"Honey, I'm home."

CW: The worst fucking trigger you've ever heard in your life (it was my idea, the commissioner is innocent)

"And that's all we have time for, everyone! I've been Lux the Enthralling! Thank you so much, and once again, a huge round of applause for our amazing volunteers!"

Denia leapt to her feet. The old, burgundy upholstered seat creaked and snapped back into its upright position behind her, and she only barely managed to avoid catching her tail in it. The blue raptor wanted to make sure Duster saw her clapping.
Her friend, the orange-plumaged roadrunner with azure-tinged hands and hair, was grimacing with embarrassment. The hypnotist, a red panda who was quite short, yet still taller than Duster, gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder and murmured something to him that Denia couldn't lipread. Duster nodded and said something back - it looked like a quick "thanks".

Denia grabbed Duster's bag and coat from his vacated seat so she could meet him in the aisle after he shuffled off stage.

She lead with "That looked like fun! What was it like being tranced out like that…?"
"Ech.." Duster was avoiding her gaze, his shoulders shifting slightly in a shrug he wasn't quite committing to. "I don't think it did anything to me. I didn't feel hypnotised at all."

Denia snrked. Sometimes Duster was so cute she wanted to just grab the top of his head and ruffle it until his head-plumage was a mess. So easily flustered, but also so quick to deny himself.
She'd seen all the evidence. Duster had been just as blank-eyed and happily obedient as each and every other person up on that stage. Duster had capered around the stage like a chicken, making the floorboards creak with every leap and scratch. He was commanded to bark every time he heard the word 'salad,' before being thrown into a roleplay scene at a salad bar with some other hypnotees.

There were a few other fun triggers, but the sound of a doorbell was the coup de grace of the act. When Duster heard that one, he did a long striptease while announcing "honey, I'm home," over and over again, to the hoots and hollers of an audience he had no idea was there. It was really fun to watch…
Denia was curious about how much fun Duster had while up there. He was wearing baggy boxer shorts underneath his pants, so if it was turning him on at all, it wouldn't be that easy to tell.
She had a very easy way to suss that one out… well, she assumed it would be easy. How hard could it be to put him under again? That red panda made it look as natural as breathing. She could totally do it.

"Well, why don't we grab some dinner?"
"Yeah, sounds great," Duster said. "I'm starving after that."
He would be, considering the mental and physical workout he'd been put through. 
"My treat." Denia lead the way, towering over the little road runner as she parted the sea of shuffling punters to get out of the dingy little cabaret theatre. 

There was a diner not too far away - cheap, cheerful and calorie-rich was the order of the evening. 
"Double burger, onion rings, and a shake," Duster said, not even having to look at the menu.
"And for you, darlin'?" the alpaca with a little too much foundation on her asked.
"I'm not feeling crazy hungry myself… I think a nice salad would be enough for me."
"Rr-."
Duster didn't bark. But Denia noticed a little twitch. A slight push forward, a little tensing in the throat and the shoulders. There was a little residue of that trigger, still present in his mind… excellent. Denia now knew she had something to work with.
But she knew not to overdo it. If she kept trying to pepper the conversation with the trigger phrases, she'd run the risk of burning them out entirely. 
The waitress didn't seem to notice, though; she just cheerily slid away, leaving the dino and the bird to their devices.
"You okay? Did you just hiccup there?" Denia asked.
"No?" Duster tilted his head to the side. "D'no what you're talking about. I didn't say anything."
"Uh-huh." Denia smiled. Okay… she'd have to soften him up a bit for that one. But that bode well.

The bell over the door of the diner rang as a half-cut hen party entered . Denia recognized them, from their loud chatter… they'd been sneaking drinks during the whole show, but had mostly avoided heckling, thankfully…
The bell rang several times as the whole group filtered in.
There was that twitch from Duster again. His pupils contracted. One hand went up to the collar of his shirt, to the top button. But his fingers just came to rest below his throat, and he scratched at his plumage with a little grunt.
…Was she imagining things? Maybe the triggers didn't last after all. Maybe that was just a hiccup earlier, and the other triggers weren't going to work.
She wasn't going to give up, just yet.. what other triggers did she remember from the evening?

"And here's your burger, and your salad-"
"Ruff-"
"-my darlings, y'all let me know if you need anything else~!"
The waitress was mid-spiel. She didn't seem to notice the bark, she just continued straight on to the big table that had just arrived.

"Mm-mm," Duster rubbed his wings together before reaching down to grab the thick plant patty. Seemingly unaware.
Denia's snout split into a huge grin.
"Looks good," she said, stabbing her fork into a leaf. "If you need to cut the grease, you can have a bit of my salad-"
Duster's bark made him half-leap from his seat. But as soon as he barked, he was back to nonchalantly eating. 
"I'm good, thanks," Duster said. 
A few people from the hen party shot a confused glance in their direction… before sharing some furtive little whispers amongst themselves.
Would she keep going? Would she risk it?

…No. She needed to pick the right moment

"How did you find the whole… strip tease part?" she asked.
"What? What strip tease?" Duster scoffed, nearly spitting out a bite of food.
"You don't remember?" she smiled.
"No, that didn't happen." There was a smirk on Duster's beak. "Lux hypnotised all of you to think I was hypnotised! Didn't work on me."
Denia scoffed. "I think I'd remember that…"
In fact, she did remember. She also remembered the mischievous glint in that panda magician's eye as they'd explained - 

"So Duster," Lux asked, "what if you were the only person in the room who wasn't hypnotised… and what if they were to imagine that you were stripping for them? Wouldn't that be fun?"
"N-hn," Duster had grunted, eyes unfocused, head lolling. "Yeah, fun…"
A chuckle had rolled through the audience, and Denia had joined in with it.
"So… if we were to zonk the world right now, you'd know, right…? Will we let them know they're hypnotized? Wanna help me do it? You know the tune, right…?"
"Mye." Duster had grunted, only half-joining in, his voice barely audible under the panda's louder singing - and the laughter from the audience.

No preamble. She leapt right into it, trying to sing at a lower volume, which made it even more off-key
"Zooonk the wooorld, let them know they're hypnotiiized~"
Denia thought she was being quiet enough. But the second time she sang it, the gaggle of hens joined in, with the expected drunk-girl gusto, jumping the volume up by a significant degree.
Not only did Denia notice Duster's eyes dilate, and a little stiffening in the shoulders… she saw a smile tug at the edges of his beak, too.
"Oh god…" Duster laughed. "You're still hypnotized, aren't you?"
"Zoooonk the woooorld~" Denia continued, shaking her head as her snarl-smile grew even wider.
Duster reached out and grabbed Denia's wrist, giving it a squeeze. "Snap outta it!"
Denia pulled her wrist away. "Alright, alright, I'm awake…"
The drunk girls kept singing for a moment longer, before clapping and whooping. Duster shook his head, evidently a little zonk-drunk still.

"You having a good night?" One of them yelled over to the table.
"Oh boy," Duster muttered. "Let's eat quick and get outta here, I don't wanna talk to strangers any more than I have-"

Dingding.

The door opened again, this time by an older gent in a dark coat, clearly on his own. The person didn't matter so much as the sound. Duster trailed off mid-sentence, and slowly leaned back until he was sitting perfectly upright. His gaze was wide and blank, his beak was slightly parted…
Then he stood.

"Honey, I'm home."
It was too late to stop him. Every eye was drawn to the brown-feathered bird as he went through the same routine as before. He stepped up onto the table, kicking the plate of food aside and letting it spill everywhere. His sleepy blue hands started from the top button and working his way down, slowly shrugging off his shirt and baring his torso to the delighted whoops of the hen party. A tabby cat leapt to her feet from among them and cheered. Everyone else, Denia included, watched with varying levels of confusion and delight.

Duster opened the buckle of his belt and let it glide out of the loops, an easy smile coming to his beak now, and he draped it over his shoulder as he let his slightly-too-wide pants slide right off, down to his billowing boxer shorts. 
"S-sir?" The waitress approached. "You're gonna have to put your clothes back on…"
"Honey, I'm home," Duster repeated, wiggling his hips from side to side and fluttering his tail. He bent forwards, showing off his ass, inclining it towards the sound of the cheers and applause…
"TAKE IT ALL OFF! TAKE! IT! OFF! TAKE! IT! OFF!"
Denia didn't even realise she was joining in until the third repetition. She was getting swept up in things. She was back in the crowd again. One of the many sets of eyes ogling someone who was truly, blissfully, free of thoughts and cares…
"Honey, I'm home," Duster said, breezily, as he took his boxers and slowly wriggled them down. He took his time to gradually reveal the curve of his butt, and downy treasure-trail leading down to his half-erect cock.

There was no doubt he was enjoying himself. 
The alpaca was standing right at their booth now, looking straight up, just as mesmerised as everyone else was by the impromptu tease.
"S-sir, I'm g-gonna have to ask you to… t…to…"
The Waitress' eyes bounced up and down to follow the tip of Duster's dick as it sprang free into view. 
Everyone was following it.
Denia caught herself drooling a little, felt the cushions beneath her in the booth seem to pull her down… felt herself sliding into a comfortable state of mind, like she'd just crawled into bed…

"Brr!" she snapped herself out of it. Damn, maybe Duster was right… she did feel a little swept up in the whole thing.
She debated splashing cold water on Duster's face. But a few gentle smacks should be enough. "Okay, okay Duster, off the table, now…"
"Honey, I'm home," Duster mumbled again. "Honey, I'm-"
"C'mon, buddy…" Denia said, standing up to reach for him. "You've stepped in my salad-"
"RUFF! RUFFRUFFRUFF!"
"Oh fuck-"

The roadrunner's beak fell open, his tongue lolling out, as he went past simply barking and straight into believing he was a dog. At least it got him squatting down, which made it easier to pull his undies and trousers back up from around his ankles. She felt like she was dressing a kid for their first day at school.
"Shhh-shhh… good…d-doggy? Good doggy. Yeah, let's just chill out…" Denia's coos gradually got Duster to settle down. But he was gone. Not a thought in that head.

"M-Ma'am, I am gonna have to ask you two to leave, now…" the waitress said as Denia finally got Duster down to the ground. She was glancing awkwardly around to try and spot hidden cameras. "This ain't for tv, is it?"
"Oh god, no, hah… we were just at a hypnosis show!" Denia laughed. "He killed it up there, didn't you Duster?"
"Nnhn." Duster was smiling dizzily, mumbling something completely indecipherable.
"We're on our way out," she said, quickly handing the waitress money to pay for the food, and a more than sizeable tip. "Sorry 'bout this, heh…"

Denia pulled Duster's arm across the back of her neck to keep him stable. As they walked towards the diner door, they heard a shout.
"Taxiiii~!" a plump-faced sparrow girl called out from the hen party.
"Honestly?" Denia laughed. "I might have to call one!"
As soon as she opened the door, she remembered the trigger - too late to stop the bell ringing.

"Honey, I'm home…!"
"NOPE." she hugged him tighter. C'mon. Save it for when we're actually home."

 "Hey Vic, I left my towel at home. Help me out."

Comparing one's progress to that of the others at a new gym was a very easy pitfall to fall into. Especially when you first walked in the door and saw everyone else at work.
Jaeger was really feeling that particular struggle at PFP (Push For Perfection). But he was going to power through those nerves. This was the best option he had for working out. It was the nearest gym to him, the first class was free, and he wasn't picky. From the website's sharp, stark, black-and-red design, he knew the place was going to be a bit full on.

He definitely wasn't expecting everyone around him to be twice his size, though.
The Shikoku Inu, with fur the colour of dark brown bark, was in good shape, well toned, well defined. He took care of himself. But everyone else was massive. Washboard abs, biceps the size of grapefruits, the works.

The other thing that made Jaeger feel a little uncomfortable was the, uh… furniture.

Alongside those who were currently working out, and the coaches roving around to check their form, there were a fair few who were just… standing there. Stock-still. Some were just spotting the exercisers. Not that weird. But some of them had towels draped over their faces and shoulders. Jaeger even spotted a cat whose physique was a lot like his. He was rigid as a board, parallel to the floor, getting bench-pressed by a yolked white rat. 

Each and every one of them, as far as he could tell, wore wide, contented smiles on their faces. They also all wore a tight red shirt, with black text emblazoned on it:

VOLUNTEER.

…Interesting vibe.

"What's up brother?!" Jaeger got a clap on the back that almost made him faceplant on the squishy mat beneath him. 

"Agh! H-hey!"
He wheeled around with a yelp to see a steel-blue shark towering over him, his skin glistening as brightly as his smile. 
"Welcome to PFP! You're Jaeger, right? I'm Vic! We were texting!"
Oh yeah… Vic was Jaeger's first point of contact when he signed up. Now he had a face to the name. 

…He was also wearing one of those red Volunteer tees.
Come to think of it, he didn't see anyone here who wasn't a Volunteer, or a gym-goer…
"So, first things first." Vic's hand pushed between Jaeger's shoulderblades. "We gotta get you weighed in, check your mass, body fat, all that stuff. It won't take long at all."

"Sounds great…" Jaeger choked hoarsely.
The shark pushed a little harder, nudging Jaeger off balance and forcing him to start walking. 
"Ah-whoa-okay."
"So, what brings you here, buddy?" Vic asked, his voice sharp and friendly… like a Good Cop.
"I just wanted to get out a bit more," Jaeger said, glancing up to make a little eye contact before he brought his eyes back front. "I'm in pretty good shape, but I wanna see if I can push myself a little-"

"Just in here," Vic interrupted.
"-bit… oh, okay…"

It was a small room, just big enough for a chair, and what looked to be a very fancy weighing machine. A large screen sat on a white, aluminium plinth, and there were two large dark paw shaped spots on a platform at the base.

"Cool, right?"
Jaeger looked at the shark, whose grin did not seem to have relaxed at all.
"Mm-hm…" the dog said, nervously wagging. "What's this for?"
"It's just gonna scan you… it measures all the usual stuff - weight, muscle mass, body fat - buuuut, it goes a bit deeper than that. It can tap into your brainwaves - hold still-"
A claw-shaped helmet was pushed into the back of his head - one claw going up over the top between this ears, the other two resting on his cheeks.
"-And using what it picks up, it'll make suggestions for what duties you can volunteer for!"
"Wait… I didn't say I wanted to volunteer-"
"Well, you don't have to, but you'll get a free class credit every time you do a shift!" Vic was giving a very hard sell, and truth be told Jaeger was starting to feel a little intimidated. He could be talked into one shift, maybe. Just one.

"Just put your hands on the markings on the railing," Vic said, "And it'll all make sense when I start the scan."
"…Ok, got it…"
Jaeger did as requested…
And he swore he could feel something his paws rested on the dark, slightly rough markings.
Jaeger wasn't sure if he was hallucinating it, but he felt like there was something vibrating beneath his feet and on his hands. 
…And on his head, for that matter. The small square screen came to life with a soft flicker and chime. 

He couldn't pull his paws away - it was like they were magnetised, clenched claw-like on the railing. The same went for his feet. They stayed rooted.
Jaeger's head felt fuzzy. The harness on the back of his head felt like it was pressing - no, massaging him. Like something was probing around inside him, dusting, fixing… re-arranging.

Images began to flood his brain. The curvature of thick muscles, clenched and tensed to keep weights aloft. Bulging, cresting jockstraps bouncing as their owner skipped rope rapidly. The crevices beneath flexing arms and between thick thighs, seemingly designed for a snout to be nested into.
He drowned in them. He felt like he could smell them, taste them…

Jaeger groaned, his eyes dilating and going unfocused as he stared down at the little screen. The strobing progress bar continued its rightward journey. He watched closely, following it, trying to keep track of it through the constant onslaught of pulsating images, beamed directly into his fragile mind. Each new image made his cock throb in his pants, add another lug of pre-cum to stain his already soaked underwear. 

"There we go! All done!"
Vic's hand clapped Jaeger's shoulder again, though the dog didn't even so much as flinch. He was slumped, eyes like marbles, staring down at the screen as drool oozed from his slightly-parted muzzle.
"Now that that's done, the machine's gonna tell you what your best volunteer role is gonna be!"

"Uh-huh…" Jaeger grunted. He couldn't make any other sounds from his slack, open throat.

What type of volunteer would he be best at being?

A thumping electronic beat reached his ears next, conducted through his skull. 
A voice came through too. It wasn't Vic. But his cadence was the exact same peppy, vaguely aggressive tone.

"Every Gym worth its salt's gotta have some passionate volunteers! The coach and the managers can't be the only ones running things… That's what makes PFP special. That's what makes our Volunteer Vics special. You gotta be like family. Vics gotta look out for their brothers… not just when you're spotting, but all the time. Vics need to see what your brother needs, and be ready to give 'em just that. 

"Greet your brothers at the door, show them what Perfection looks like…"

There was Vic - the shark Vic, at least. He looked just as huge as ever. Jaeger was nowhere near as big. He wouldn't work as that kind of Vic.

"Make sure his posture's just right as you get lifted…" 
A stiff Vic, this one a bat, had a smile as stiff as his body, as he was deadlifted by the wrists and ankles by a burly rhino.
Jaeger's heart sank. He wasn't tall and long enough to be that. 

"Be his Towel…"
Towel?
Yes… Of course! All the images he'd been shown were making his mouth salivate, his nose twitch… those senses were his strongest, the ones that the rest of his body was in thrall to.. There was no purpose more perfect. 
He could picture it now…
All those damp, sweat covered towels hanging over him, his arms, his face… 
The Vic on the screen looked scrawny. Jaeger couldn't even see what their species was, their face was rammed so deep into a musky-looking armpit.

"Or even a Towel Rack!"
A Vic appeared, absolutely covered in towels - and shirts, and jockstraps, their face hidden beneath them all. An outstretched thumbs-up was the only sign of life beneath the mound of musky clothes…
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes… he could already taste it. He wanted it - NEEDED it so badly. Imagining it was enough to get his whole body wiggling even as his feet and hands remained rooted to the rail and the panel.

"Look at that tail go!" Shark-Vic laughed, though the laughter barely cut through the noise of the dog's vivid hallucination. "Looks like we've got you figured out… Now, we gotta get you fitted for your shirt. You can start with a volunteer shift today, then we can see if you wanna join one of our classes! You didn't have any plans today, did you?"
He did. But he couldn't remember what they were. They were hardly important.

Jaeger got into a routine quicker than he ever had at any gym… or anything he'd ever put his mind to, really. It felt like a calling.

At first, it was three days working out, then two days as Vic. The dog never felt the ache after working out when he was carrying out his duties.
After a month, once his gains were starting to show, it became two days working out, three days Volunteering. Once he hit that all important plateau, nice and buff and ready to be displayed… just one day's working out was needed. Volunteering was what kept him coming back to PFP.

Life just didn't feel quite as rewarding when he wasn't at the gym. He wore the VOLUNTEER shirt underneath his clothes at all times, as if he needed to whip it out on short notice. It was really just to have a constant reminder of what he was good at, and good for. He loved putting on the visor and letting those colours wash and pour over him like a post-workout shower. His tail would wag, his mouth would drool, and the outside world was gone. It was just him, and his Voluntary service, and all the brothers he could help.

"Great workout, brother!" The Volunteer said, each time someone passed him towards the showers. His inflection never changed; as close as someone could get to sounding pre recorded. His fist was outstretched enough for them to give him a quick bump as they passed - each bump like a little rewarding jolt of electricity.

As their one hand bumped his fist, their other hand threw their sweat-soaked jock over his face, or his shoulders. His blank eyes and big smile were covered over by pouch after pouch. He marinated in their moisture and scent, each whiff its own reward.

"Great workout br-mrrnh!"
The Volunteer kept greeting each brother as they passed, though now his voice was muffled by the cotton jock in his mouth, the strap sticking out like an un-swallowed noodle. Each "grrm wrkmr brrmmr" squeezed out the sweet salty nectar onto his tongue. His tight shorts pulsed, his needy cock throbbing within the round null-bulge pouch it had been nestled into. The thick plug in his hole pulsed, too, a further reward for his hard work.

A hand grabbed it, fondling it like a just ripened fruit. The sweaty fabric was yanked out of the Volunteer's mouth, and he looked up. The Volunteer saw a shark smiling down at him(even with the mass he'd put on, the dog was still dwarfed). 

"Hey Vic," the shark said. "I left my towel at home. Help me out."

"Sure thing, Brother!"
Vic loved being a towel. He loved being covered in a brother's sweat, its salt matting his fur and its scent spiralling around in his nostrils. Whatever aches he had drowned in the sweat as his Brother wiped the dog's snout against his arms, his abs, his pits, his ass…

While one hand had Vic buried under the shark's pit, his other hand slid down past the tail, to his butt crack. The shark grabbed and tugged, pulling the plug free with a wet, satisfying pop. 
Vic wasn't left un-filled for long. His vision spun from the shark's underarm to the tiled wall of the shower. His muscles were well toned, very relaxed, so both of the shark's dicks practically glided inside him.
"Hell yeah b-brother!" Vic yipped, relaxing his walls just as he'd been trained.
He pushed his face against the tile wall and pushed his ass right back against the hemi-dicks, squeezing them tight and making sure he'd be stuck there. No way.

The best Vics got to be cocksleeves too, got to fuck their brothers to help them let out some steam. And his hole was well-used. Well-trained. His own version of perfection.

-Uhhh, i think you have the wrong number lol

Master's voice bounces around in your skull, from one ear to the other, clearing out more space in your mind with each bounce and recourse. 

Forget…

Remember…

Forget…

You no longer see any contradiction in those words. You will Remember. You will Forget.
Your hindbrain will Remember.
Your mind will Forget.
The back-and-forth commands are slowly painting over the thoughts of Master, the triggers he put in you, the memories of the pleasure he brought. They're occluded with new layers of 'paint' each time you hear Remember in one ear, and Forget in the other. The colours and textures painted over in opaque, clear, blank, white…

You know they're still there. They'll always be there, hidden beneath the paint, and they'll stay hidden for a while, but they will be back soon.

The alarm's buzzing has gotten too loud for you to ignore. It's been going for at least 3 minutes. You feel like you could count every second of it. If it just goes a bit longer, it'll give up…
…Nope, you're not going to be able to outlast it. You force yourself to get up, crawl out of bed, and stagger across the room to finally knock off the alarm.

It would take too much effort to lie back down in bed, so all that's left to do is take the earbuds out of your ears, and…

…When did you put those in? Did you forget to take them out before bed? You don't normally listen to music before you sleep…
Aside from when you're told to by M-

-Forget what, exactly?
Huh, why do you have your earbuds in? Did you forget to take them out before bed?
Better fix that. You ease them out of your ears and slip them back into their charging cradle.
When you get to the bathroom, you finally notice your dick throbbing in your PJs, still rock hard, the pre-stains still fresh and yet to dry.
Not quite a wet dream, but close to one.

Damn, it must have been good, it's a shame you don't remember it…
Come to think of it, what were you listening to? Once you've finished your morning shower, you find your phone and scroll through it. The last apps that were opened seem to be your music player and Discord.
The first one has nothing you can see, and checking your deleted files turns up nothing as well. No mp3s or wavs of any sort.
Discord, on the other hand… you notice a strange glitch right away. There's a gap between DMs. One friend's left messages while you were sleeping, and you see the previous evening's conversation with someone else… and between them is a black space. You tap on it and are greeted with even more blank space, just a big grey rectangle taking up most of your phone screen.
You do find a little X mark, so you tap it, and the blankness is gone straight away.
…What were you thinking about? Oh yeah, you were wondering what you were listening to… You feel like you'd recall listening close to Master's words, so quiet you have to strain to listen but you listen because Master's voice feels so good in your ears, like a finger running down your spine, like a delicious honey-soaked cake in your mouth, like a hand gripping your scalp for a stress-ball massage, eyes rolling, lips chanting along with the words, Master's words, one ear to the other, telling you to Remember, to Forget, to Remember, to Forget, to Forget, to Forget, and you eventually chalk it up to sleepwalking, or maybe you were using the noise cancellation for a deeper sleep and just forgot you made that decision.

You might as well put it out of your head for now. It's easy enough to forget about it.
The rest of the day - work, lunch, work, drinks, home, dinner, rest… it's a typical Monday. But something feels a little off. Your mind's just a little sluggish. Nowhere near sluggish enough to cause a problem with your day-to-day life, but enough to tweak at your awareness. Like you're a little tipsy, or a little dizzy…
Not to mention, weirdly horny.

Mid-week, your Discord pings while you're at work, and you surreptitiously check it.
It's that blank account again, no text, no images.
But you stare at the spiral as it twists over and over on the screen curiously, wondering what's wrong with it even as your world melts away until there's nothing but you, and the screen, and the bliss that it brings you…
You excuse yourself to the bathroom for a moment to sit and stare where you won't be disturbed and you can stare at Master's spiral sinking deeper so deep for Master remember it all the pleasure the bliss of going deeper for him as your thumbs type 'i obey' over and over and over and over the pleasure building up more and more with each repetition a smile across your drooling face the spirals reflected in your glazed eyes, thanking Master with each repetition of 'i obey i obey i obey' until Master tells you what a good boy you are and to forget and you forgot what you were doing in here… you didn't even need to go to the bathroom in the first place. There was a reason you came here… must've been the doorway effect.

Maybe it'll come back to you when you get back to your desk…
Once you're there, you take a little time to rack your brains, but… nope, you can't recall.
It probably wasn't that important.
Yeah, you probably just needed a little bit of a break. Nice to get some alone time. Just you and…
Why did you think and for a moment there?
It's just you.
You're alone with your thoughts.
You check your phone one last time before leaving the bathroom - that glitch is back. Weird.
Lunchtime comes around, and you finally remember what you need to do. You need to look at the spiral again and make sure no one else is looking. You need to be a good boy and take out your cock and show it off to Master, "show me how hard at work you are, or is it how hard you are at work~?" yes you smile and giggle and show Master your giggly smile on camera as you grope your underwear for him and let your pre leak out and your dick throb before you zip it up and hide it away and forget all over again as soon as you send Master the videOh… what time is it? Did you zone out all the way through lunch? Damn…

Your stomach growls through the rest of the afternoon. You need to stop somewhere to grab a snack on the way home, just to settle it. Into the nearest convenience store you go. Ice cream on an empty stomach might not be the best thing but, fuck it, you're hungry, it's what you want.

You unwrap the mound of frozen cream from its packaging and throw it into the nearest bin, before slipping it past your lips. The sweet texture and its bracing chill is exactly what Master wanted you to experience, as you suck on it you take your phone out and make a little video, lips closed around it, suck, in and out, back and forth, sinking deeper each time you push down, each suck eroding and melting more of the cream and more of your thoughts with it, making room for Master's commands to stretch out and take up more space in your Good Toy brain, mindless obedient good sucking…

You inhaled that thing, dang.
You keep the stick in your mouth, gnawing on the soft wood and turning it over and over. Having something in your mouth will tide you over until youo get home and have a proper meal.

You Forget again as a Good Toy should.

A fortnight passes. Two weeks like any other. And as that time passes, you feel like something's missing. Something you've been forgetting. You find yourself compulsively checking your pockets and bags. Your keys are always where they should be, as is your phone, your books, your lucky pen. You go through your planner. No unpaid bills or upcoming deadlines you've forgotten about. So why are you feeling on edge? Anxious? Maybe a little lonely…?

That's an odd feeling. One you seldom have.

The text message comes just as you get in the door on a Friday evening. It's rare that you get an SMS. The number isn't in your contacts, and you definitely don't recognise it.

Uh. Okay. Weird way to open a message. Way too familiar. Could it have been an attempt at a cam? Even though the smart, obvious thing to do would be to block this number and move on, something animates you to respond. Curiosity, maybe.

You see the read receipt for the message ticks instantly, and the three dots pop up on the left side of the screen…

Okay, this is weird. You stand in your doorway and keep your eyes on the screen, keeping very still.

The three dots appear again.

-You don't need to respond, either.

-Just read my words, and see if 
they jog your memory.

You keep watching and reading, a little smile on your face. You're waiting for the moment he tries to hit you up for money. That has to be coming. It might be fun to play along…

-Your body Remembers, even
If your mind Forgets. And if
your body remembers, it will
remember how to respond
when I command it to.

-Isn't that right?

…Wait, did you just write that?! The hell?

…You wrote it twice?! Why did-

-Don't be confused, Toy.

-Just let my words float up 
your screen, and wash 
right over you.

Y...You need to tell whoever this is that they've got the wrong idea. You need to block this number.

You keep staring at the screen, and your thumbs hover over the Y and the E on your screen keyboard.

The world outside the screen is Vaseline, a soft blur…

Your head… swims…

The phone vibrates in your hands. The number is calling you. What were you even reading, what did you say to them….
You feel like you could stop this call. You can end it here. Ignore the call, block him, get on with your day…
You answer it before you can stop yourself.

"…Hello?" Your voice comes out like a puppydog's whimper. Why is that…

"Hello, Toy!"

The voice. Oh fuck. His voice. You know his actual name, but it's pushed aside by his title. It's the vanguard of the rushing army of memories that overwhelm you in an instant.

"Master!" You squeak. "Hiii!"
"I know we said it'd be a month, but I just couldn't help myself. I missed you too much…"

Yes, the wager, the game… You Forgot. As you were told to. As you suggested in the first place.

"I missed you too, Master…" you murmur, "I felt like something was missing…"

"Ahh… Sorry to hear that. I guess we need a little bit more training, to make sure you REALLY forget about me next time. But for now…. are you in your room?"

"oh, no, Master, I'm just at my door…" you say, ignoring the irritated cough behind you as someone passes. Your heart's too fluttery and your head's too inflated with happy-chemicals to be embarrassed.

"Well, get inside," Master says. "So I can see my beautiful Toy on cam, and we can make a new file together…"

You will Forget the whole weekend, each drop, each break, each new mantra and trigger he installs in you. But your body Remembers every blissful moment.

"You don't need to be afraid of being seen anymore. The sin of fear will not have any power over you…"

Everywhere Vio looked, he saw his reflection.
The cavernous temple had been carved out of sky-blue geodes. The crystalline hallways were polished to an icy, shimmering sheen. The stout ram tried not to feel self conscious, ignoring the black wool and slight paunch poking out from the joints of his silver armour - armour that hid his eyes, and his grim expression from view. Especially not when the reflections were unflatteringly distorted.
Some facets made him look stretched, some made him tower like a great beast, others still twisted him into an ugly shape like pulled taffy.

He kept his eyes forward, focused through the rectangular slits in his helmet. 
He kept his warhammer raised, the pointed claw side level with his head, ready to crush and chisel this un-natural crystal into silica-dust.

The temple would not stand for much longer, not if Vio, the Demolisher, had anything to say about it. It, and the priest within, had tempted many lost, evagating wanderers with the anglerfish promise of an end to all troubles of the mind - things like melancholy, heartbreak, listlessness
None who entered the temple ever re-emerged. That, in itself, should have been enough warning to stay away, and yet, people kept being drawn to it. Wanderers, drifters, those without a place or purpose.
Vio was a drifter in a sense, but he came with a clear purpose. To put an end to whatever foul business was going on inside.

Up ahead, the warrior heard the echo of chanting - dozens upon dozens of voices bouncing off the hard surfaces of crystal glass, arcing upwards to the higher chamber, a gathering storm of murmured sound.
Vio came to the end of the long passageway, into a wide open space, not unlike the courtyard of a temple…
There were scores of people stretching out before him, evenly spaced out in an ascetic grid.
Each and every figure in the chamber was kneeling on a little pillow, the only thing that seemed to have been brought in from the outside world. Each of them was in front of a piece of crystal, perfectly tablet-shaped, and polished to a mirror sheen.
Each worshipper's hands rested on their thighs, their eyes locked onto the eyes of their reflections. Whether they had just come of age, or their age was coming for them, there was something strangely youthful about the revellers' relaxed, awe-struck expressions. It was a look of serene wonder, usually reserved only for one's first experience of snow, or the sea, or the northern lights…
They were all chanting, yes, but it was hard to tell even from the movements of their snouts and beaks whether they were speaking in concert, or saying their own private credos…

One figure was not looking at themself; he was roving and roaming between them all like a teacher surveying his students.

Vio recognized him from the charcoal sketches on each and every wanted poster that lead him here.
This was Clarys, the so-called Cleric of the True Self. Far from the robes one might expect for a cult leader, Clarys was dressed quite simply - with a white tunic and simple, baggy blue slacks.
The figure had fur the colour of grey steel, with blue highlights on the tips of his headfur and on his right ear. His lupine snout was a touch shorter than most wolves Vio had met, and his tail was raised upwards rather than pointed downwards. Vio reckoned there was some cat in this man's bloodline.
That was not the only unorthodox thing about him - his eyes were green, but with a small ring of blue around the pupil. Even from that distance, Vio understood why people might be drawn to him, bewitched by his strange, unique beauty.
But Vio was built of stronger stuff than that.

Vio was not one for stealth. He was no coward. He would face this foul priest head on.
He let his arm relax, let gravity pull his warhammer downwards. The hammer slammed into the ground with a resounding, echoing crack. A weave of cracks spread from the indentation it made.
Not a figure turned towards him. Not even Clarys himself. 
"Welcome," Clarys said, his voice soft and gentle, with a tone one might have reserved for a fireside chat with a close confidant. "You've come for me, I take it?"
"Hrmh. Yes." Vio snorted.
"You've heard of what I offer, to poor lost souls who've come here to find themselves?"
"Yes." Vio repeated. "I'm not here to-"
"You're here to destroy my temple."
"Yes!" Vio bristled. He hated being interrupted. He hefted his hammer over his shoulder and readied himself.
Clarys still did not turn. Irritation upon irritation. He'd had enough.
With a growl, he lunged forward. The attack was well telegraphed, one that aimed to intimidate rather than strike directly. The cleric would have to evade… that or cower and surrender.
As Vio came closer… Clarys remained still. His back was still turned. 
He'd committed to the strike, the weight was already shifting, and the hammer's momentum was going to carry itself right into the wolfcat's head, if he didn't shift…
Why was he not moving?
Vio's hammer descended, and he braced for the crunch of impact…

The hammer connected - not with Clarys' head, but with a jagged plate of crystal glass. It chimed with a deep, bone tingling resonance, and with that resonance came a chorus of gasps and moans from all around him.
A jagged lattice of cracks spread from the point of impact. Crack. Crack. Crack. 
The plate shattered, and Vio's hammer continued its journey towards the ground. Its momentum was slowed by that smashed tablet. When it impacted with the ground it did not leave a dent, though the impact pulled Vio a step forward, off balance.
Before Vio could lift it, a paw rested on his wrist. It was not a grip. Just a gentle touch.

Crystal shards tinkled as they bounced off of Vio's helmet. Whatever unnatural light that was illuminating the temple bounced off of them, making the air sparkle. Like the stars had been brought down to earth.
Clarys' eyes peered in through the slats in Vio's helmet. His blue green gaze wasn't a piercing one. It was a welcoming one, one that drew Vio in. And his eyes seemed to sparkle too… No, there were little shards of crystal floating around his head. Or around Vio's head? He could not tell.
Nor could he stop noticing them. 
Nor could he stop Clarys' hand from slowly travelling up his arm. It was a gentle press, a strangely reassuring gesture. It coaxed Vio to release his grip on the handle, and let it fall to the wayside. His arm was aching, but the soft caress felt somehow felt soothing, even through his plate armour. 
"May I remove this, friend?" Clarys asked, his voice just as gentle as his touch. "So I may soothe you better?"
Vio should have pulled back. He could have thrown his head forward to smash the villain's snout. But there were all those dancing crystal shards in the way. He couldn't see an opening. His eyes kept trying to follow them as they orbited his head, while keeping his eye on the wolfcat, but his focus was getting pulled this way and that…
The armour fell away from Vio's arm. He didn't realise the weight he was carrying until that instant. He let out a confused, soft bleat.

"Poor Demolisher," Clarys cooed. "All you have devoted yourself to is destruction. Smashing down walls. Tearing down barriers. And yet the one facade you have never torn down is your own."
Vio listened. Even though his armour was being removed, he still felt a heaviness descending over his body. The ram felt a tug on his insides, like the inexorable pull of gravity.
"You carry the weight of your sins, your hardships, the things that keep you from true happiness. And you can't even see it, not with the helmet hiding you… why don't you take it off?"

…He never took off his helmet, save for when he was in private. It was a part of his stoic mystique; if one never saw his face, they could imagine all they liked about how he looked.
…Was that really all there was to it, though?
"I don't… want to," Vio croaked, even as his eyes kept dancing with the orbiting crystal shards. 
"It's all right," Clarys said. "You don't need to be afraid of being seen anymore. The sin of fear will not have any power over you…"

Vio's hands moved beneath his neck, gently supported by the wolfcat's hands on his wrists. They found the strap beneath his chin and unbuckled it, before they lifted it up.
The sheep's black wool spilled forth, soft and fluffy. Another weight he'd trained himself not to notice was lifted. And with that came relief. Sweet, unbridled relief.

The crystal shards came together, forming into the floating disc once again. Every crack vanished as it fused into place, and Vio saw…
Himself. His grey eyes stared out from the dark forest encircling his head.

"There," Clarys murmured. He was behind Vio now - when that had happened seemed irrelevant. "You're handsome beneath that armour. Look at yourself. Really allow yourself to look…."

Vio… looked at himself. For the first time in years.
He saw the weary lines beneath his eyes, the wrinkles from the tensed scowl he so often wore behind the helmet.
But as he looked at himself, as he stared into his reflection, those wrinkles smoothed out. The years of tension melted away.
"The face carries the weight of one's failings. The sin of worry, the sin of dissatisfaction… the sin from which all sins spring from."
"I…. I understand…" Vio murmured.
Vio'seyes were drawn to his reflection's muzzle, his soft lips… it occurred to the sheep, he had never felt his lips against another's… but the desire had been there for a very long time. A frustration. One of the many things he'd channelled into his work, his heroic destruction…

"You wish to be kissed," the wolf-cat said. It was matter-of-fact, but gentle. Just hearing it voiced made the sheep shudder and sag. His armour was not the only thing weighing him down, and acknowledging the weight allowed it to float away. The tug towards the floor no longer felt like a weight. Or like a lover's hands, coaxing him to bed. Coaxing him towards comfort. It was a strange, dislocating feeling - to float, and to sink at once. He felt as though he was being gently pulled apart - no, more like a part of him was floating away, out of reach.
He knew what those were. It was his worry, his sins…

"What else do you wish for?" the cleric asked the sheep. "Tell it to your reflection. Confess to yourself. Dig deep, deeper… and soon you will find light, the light at the centre of your self, the pure, clear You that has been buried under all that calcified mind-sin…"
Vio mumbled.
"I want to be kissed," he said. "I've never been kissed, and I've never been close enough to anyone because… I've been so afraid to be seen like that. I don't want people to know who I am…"
"The sin of fear. The sin of solitude. Give full voice to them. Exorcise them… and be forgiven."
Vio confessed to himself. His voice grew softer as he bleated out every weight he'd been holding onto. The reassuring touch pressed downwards on his shoulders, guiding him to kneel. There was a soft pillow waiting beneath his knees, and the plate rested upon a small plinth.

"Now, Vio, friend…" The Cleric's fingers rested beneath Vio's chin, gently tickling as if he were a docile beast. "I want you to continue your confessions for me. Your voice will join with the other confessors, and together, as a chorus, you will all free yourself from your sins. You will dig until you find your True Self… and then you will join me, in purest, peaceful worship."
"Yes…" Vio lowed. The claws scratched under his chin, one last time, making his head incline… and then the brushing hand moved away, leaving the sheep to continue his chanting.
Vio, the erstwhile Demolisher, let a gormless smile slide over his face. The wrinkles from that smile would be the only ones that would remain.
Within his confessions, the expulsion of his sins, there was praise. Gratitude for the path he'd been shown, and the one who had shown him it. All the weight he'd built up over so long… it was leaving his mouth, softly bouncing off his reflection, and echoing up into the ceiling where it melded with all the other confessed sins… before they disintegrated.
He was happy. For the first time in a long time.
One more happy voice within the Chapel of the True Self. One more liberated servant to the True Self, and the Cleric, the Crystalline Conduit who would guide them, and the world, to a life free of the sin of self-delusion.

 "Start recording. She's going to cum soon."

"Izzy, what is it this time…" Nia sighed. 
The pale yellow tabby cat knew better than to open whatever her girlfriend had sent her while she was out and about. She wasn't going to send it to spam. Izzy had this new thing where she shared memes and videos by email rather than DMing it like a normal person. Was it some sort of granny-core fad? Was she roleplaying as a boomer?
It had to be, especially since Izzy always wrote the subject line in all caps, and used way too many ellipses.

SAW THIS AND THOUGHT YOU WOULD LIKE….

lots of love……... 🫀

Nia snrked at the emoji choice, and considered sending back a brick emoji. it. Maybe she'd join in on the bit someday. Maybe even start dressing up like an old granny, Dye her pink hair a cotton candy blue, start wearing thick glasses and - 
God, as if. No way.

This time Izzy had sent her a zip file - one that was way too big to be viewed in the browser. 
So she put her phone back in her purse and put it out of her mind.
It was later in the evening, when she was at her laptop, cross legged on her bed, that she remembered the email.
It was about two-hundred megs. When she opened it, she was immediately subjected to a waterfall of images showing the very familiar shape of the rabbit's body. Nude, grey-furred, white-bellied, with a full chest and a thick cock. Some of the photos were eye level, and slightly lower quality - they most likely came from her laptop's built-in webcam. The others were all sorts of awkward angles, slightly tilted off kilter or even upside down where, presumably, the phone's tilt sensors misjudged things. The photos had clearly been sent in a hurry, with little care for cleaning them up or even picking and choosing. 

The rabbit was in varying states of undress - the 'earliest' photos had her shirt already hiked up to let her breasts spill out, and her panties were already bulging with the thick outline of throbbing arousal. Some of the webcam photos also caught Izzy in the middle of taking close-up dick pics with her phone… pics which were, of course, also visible in their blurry, amateurish glory.
Nia clicked through each one, mildly bemused. Izzy was hot… but Nia wasn't really sure she was in the mood to 'properly' enjoy this little treat. 

There was also a video in the folder, which made up most of the zip file's actual size.
There wasn't even a preview, just a black image. The file itself hadn't been labelled; it had that usual string of numbers and letters you got when you ripped something directly from a social media feed. 
Knowing Izzy, it could have been a cute meme showing some feral rabbits getting up to adorable mischief, or it could be full on in-your-face pornography. 
…And Nia was 99 percent sure that Izzy wasn't cranking it to cute bunny videos. That'd have been weird.

She clicked on it, and a preview window about the size of a smartphone screen opened up, the rest of the screen dimming. 
A white arc slowly revolved in a circle in the centre of that darkness, a familiar loading symbol. 
Nia's internet was pretty fast, though, so why wasn't it loading instantly…?
As she looked closer, she swore, for a moment, that she saw something in the centre.

Then it exploded. 

Not in a literal sense. There was a sudden blast of harsh, dark static inside her ears, like a dull industrial drone. The little screen strobed and flashed - white black green purple white black green purple, dozens of times every second. 
Nia gasped before her body was paralysed. She stared deep into the strobing pattern. If there were shapes, images, words within the strobe, Nia never noticed them. Whatever they were, they were all written deep into her wide-open subconscious.
The drone got louder, drowning out the moan in Nia's throat, drowning out all the thoughts in her head…

Then… darkness again. No loading symbol. Just a black expanse. 
Just as empty as Nia's mind. Just as silent, too. Blank, and quiet, and opaque.
Nia remained hunched over the screen, eyes wide, face frozen in a befuddled expression, her head tilted ever so slightly to the side.
Nia remained still there for … who knew how long. Saliva started to form at the corner of her mouth. She was like a statue. Motionless except for the very slight movement of her chest and stomach. The bare minimum required to keep drawing breath, and no more than that.

"Full-screen the video."
Another strobe accompanied the voice.
The voice was a text-to-speech one, dull and robotic with only the vaguest gesture towards natural intonation. She obeyed its order, her movements jerky and sluggish like an un-tuned animatronic. 
"Watch."
The screen did not stay blank long; a washed out, slightly blurry image appeared. She recognized the grey shape of Izzy's body, her long rabbit ears, her blue-dyed hair.

Izzy was staring directly into the camera. Or perhaps right through it, with that glassy look. Her head was almost resting on her right shoulder, and her jaw was relaxed, her mouth open. She was nude, her legs spread wide to display her junk - her right paw pumped on the shaft, her left paw cupped and cradled her balls. On her thigh, her phone was resting, the screen still on, completely forgotten.

Nia blinked. The initial flashbang shock of that strobe wore off just enough for her to return to reality… what was she doing? Oh yes, watching a video… watching Izzy jerk herself off.
Why did she have this open? Where did it come from…?
Oh, that's right, Izzy'd sent her this, along with a lot of photos, hadn't she…
Photos and now a video. How nice of her.
Nia felt warm. The space between her thighs felt puffy. She didn't even realise she was touching herself until she noticed that texture, and even then, that realisation sort of evaporated…. she didn't care. Her girlfriend had made her some cam porn. Shouldn't she use it for its intended purpose…?
The cat hunched forward, shifting from her cross legged position to a kneeling one. She focused on Izzy's face. The parted lips, the dilated pupils… Izzy must have hypnotized herself before making this video. It wasn't the first time she did it.

Izzy had said many a time that 'everything's hotter when you're hypnotized', and she practiced what she preached.
It was hot, to be fair…
Izzy's tongue slid out of her mouth as she kept stroking. Her hips began to hump, her chair creaking beneath her. Her throat clenched and relaxed as she panted and moaned… though Nia couldn't hear whatever sounds she was making.
The laptop's volume was up, and there was some sound coming from the video, soft and crackly and distant…
Nia's cunt clenched around her fingers, and she 'mrrp'ed, stiffening for a second. When had that gotten down there…? 
She didn't take her eyes off the screen. She figured she might as well go along with it, join in her friend's J-O session… to live a little. 

Although, Nia thought, it'd have been more fun if she was hypnotised too…
There was a strange little flickering on the screen. Light. Dark. Light. Dark. The sort of constant shifting you'd get from a fluorescent light, but with a vague tint of cool colour to it too… purple and green? Something like that… 
The video had been flickering like this the whole time, but Nia was only noticing it now. She nestled closer to the screen, feeling the heat and moisture of her breath rebound off the screen and back into her muzzle.
Her nethers twitched suddenly, a little clench, a little spark of pleasure.
The screen flickered and strobed. 
Nia stared long and hard at it. She would have frowned and strained to stare if her face wasn't totally relaxed, if she wasn't feeling so warm, so clenched and aroused…

"You should join in."
The dull monotone robot-voice slipped right into the opening in Nia's mind, the opening dilated by the next strobe of black and purple and green…
"Yeah… I should," Nia murmured, thinking she was responding to her own internal monologue.
"Start recording." Pulse. Strobe. Flash. "She's going to cum soon."
"…She's gonna cum soon…"
There were definite signs. Izzy was stiffening in her chair. Her hands released her cock and balls. The cock twitched and leaked pre over its already glistening flesh. Her balls were tight and firm. She panted, looking almost pained for a moment… before a smile melted over her face briefly, and she got back to gooning.
"Maybe not…" Nia murmured. "Maybe I've got time to catch up…"
There was a little dedicated button on her laptop to start recording, so it was a matter of one simple keystroke before the little light next to the lens lit up.
"Take photos."
Nia grabbed her phone and readjusted herself. She needed to show herself off.
Her feet went past her laptop, her knees raised up, her thighs spread. Her right paw had not left its space between her legs, and her left paw grabbed and tugged at her shorts to pull them free so she could whip them away. She kept her shirt on, though she did hike it up over her collarbone, to mimic Izzy's appearance.
Nia kept her eyes on the screen, on Izzy, on the flickers, even as her hand haphazardly orbited around her body to take blind snapshots. She needed to keep her eyes on Izzy and match her rhythm. When the rabbit pumped, the cat slipped her fingers in deeper.
Most of the photos were focused on her pussy, clenching against her exploring fingers. After a few snaps of her heaving chest, her perky nips, she let her phone drop off to the side so she could start fondling her tits. She couldn't have any idle, free hands.
"No idle hands," the voice in her earphones, or her head, droned, and the pulses revealed themselves again. Now they were forming a filter over the image of the masturbating bunny girl, keeping Nia focused, open-minded, copying everything she was meant to copy.

Nia's head tilted to the side to match Izzy's. Her face relaxed in the same slack, tongue-lolling expression. She fondled. She squeezed. She affirmed. She stroked. She followed. She came. She sank deeper. She kept rubbing. She took more photos. She came. She stared at the strobing flashes. She came. She stared at Izzy's cumming cock. She came.

The video finished, with a final direction. She came.
She typed in the website as directed. She came.
She uploaded the camera recording to the website. She came.
She waited for the conversion to finish. She came.
She downloaded the file, now laden with spirals and conditioning, along with some screenshots of the video. She came.
She put it all into a zip file, and attached it to an email. She came.
"Should send this back to her," she murmured to herself as she came.
She laid on her belly in front of the laptop, one hand still between her legs, the other hunting and pecking out a message.

thought you might like this~ enjoy~!

In the minute or so it took her to compose the message, she forgot who she was meant to send it to. The memory drained out of her along with her latest climax.
It was for Jade, right? It had to be for Jade. Maybe she could send it to Sherry, too… and Athena, maybe Izzy, too?
Why not. Everyone she'd ever fooled around with, everyone she'd shared a kinky experience with… they'd all get a kick out of the videos and photos. Maybe they'd even send it back to her and deepen the conditioning, so…
The conditioning was only in her head for an instant. It took cover behind a sudden hunger pang, and was forgotten again.

"I should go get snacks," she murmured to herself. She clambered out of bed, and headed towards the door. Her shorts and underwear were left behind on the bed, and her fingers continued their snug dance inside her. 

"I want you to give my boyfriend his money back."

As the raccoon girl kept scanning the crowd for faces, her brow had gradually become more furrowed, and her mouth had slipped open, un-self-consciously. The carnival field was quite dark, even with the electric lights beaming all around, so it was hard to see long-distance. She didn't even realise she had been squinting until she saw some of the stares she'd been getting.
Rose's emotional state had metamorphosed from confusion, to concern, to annoyance, to full-blown anxiety. Socks was not the kind of person to stand someone up on a date… especially not his girlfriend! She called his phone, bouncing on the balls of her footpaws to dissipate some of those pesky anxieties.
It rang once… then twice….
"This is Socks, sorry I can't take your call, leave me a message!"
Rose didn't even bother with a message. Had he seriously sent her to voicemail? It would have taken way longer for the phone to ring out normally…
She shoved her phone back into her purse and breathed slowly.
"Nngh…. it's fine, it's fine, there's probably a reason for that, he's gonna call me back…"
Another few minutes of waiting. The anxiety sublimated back into annoyance, a stronger one than before in fact.

Then… at last, she spotted him, framed, of all things, by a lovestruck pair of snow leopards. She saw them between their bodies as they held hands and gazed into each other's eyes… good for them, but they were in the way!
Socks, the bat-opossum hybrid was stumbling out of a tent. The tent was covered in stars and planets, glittering from the light catching off its shining surfaces.

Socks stopped for a moment to turn over his shoulder and look at the tent one last time, before he faced front and began to stagger again… His movements looked sluggish. Maybe even drunk?
That couldn't have been right. He didn't drink. He told her as much.
…Anxiety crept in, asking her dark, evil questions. Was he lying? What else had he lied about? Why hadn't he answered his phone?
She powered towards him, slithering around the snow leopard couple. Her tail was angled a little too high, and she heard a loud sneeze behind her. She shouted out "Sorry" over her shoulder before she continued on.
She expected him to at least notice her as she approached. But his head was still sort of lolling to and fro, his eyes looking at nothing in particular.
A sharp wave got him to notice her at last. The dopey smile hadn't left his face, and it didn't even grow when he saw her…

"Socks!" she said, trying to contain her frustration with him. "What're you doing here? I was waiting for ages…"
"Oh, I was looking for you," he said, his voice soft and dreamlike - Rose had to really prick her ears just to hear him. "Must've gone to the wrong place…"
… Did she mean he went to the wrong place, or she did? Rose wasn't going to chase that train of thought any further. She didn't want to make the argument worse. She kept her annoyance at bay.
"It's fine… what was going on in there, though? Is that a fortune teller?"
"Kiiinda?" Socks' head bobbed up and down. "She's a priestess… she did a tarot reading and then we talked about… so many things."
…A paranoid jealousy slipped into the back of Rose's head. Had he fallen for this 'priestess'?
No, stupid thought. Rose banished it.
"She helped me realise I was carrying too much with me, and I needed to get rid of my worldly desires…"
"That's… nice? So, uh, how do you feel now…?"
"So nice… especially since she helped me get rid of my useless money…"
"…What's that mean?" Rose frowned. Socks just sort of swayed. "Socks, what does that mean?"
"I gave her a hundred dollars," Socks said, proudly.

"You what?!" Rose couldn't stop herself from snapping and raising her voice. "What were you thinking?!Why would you just give someone that much money because they told you to?!"
"I feel so much lighter, though…" Socks said. This was not like him at all. "That hundred dollars was weighing me down…"
"What, a few banknotes were…?"
Socks was shaking his head with the same sluggishness as his nod.
"No, I did it on the app…"

Okay, this was not like him at all. She smelled something on him - it didn't smell like weed, and she didn't smell alcohol on his breath… it was just incense. But there was still something very obviously wrong going on.
"She's so amazing, hon, you should see for yourself…" Socks murmured.
"I think I might," Rose snarled, shoving right past him and straight into the incense-scented darkness of the tent.

Rose was surprised by how piercing the fox's blue eyes were. Almost as surprised as the fox was to see her barge in. The fox stuffed her phone back underneath her long fortune teller's robes. She brought her paws forward to either side of the crystal ball on the table between her 'customer' and her.
"Ah… welcome, my friend, come in, please… I can see something's troubling you, please come in."
"I want you to give my boyfriend his money back," Rose said. She approached the round table and slammed her hands down on it, bending forward and looming over the charlatan. "I don't know what you did to him, or how, but you scammed him and I'm not going to let that slide!"

The fortune teller smiled coolly back. "I can sense your anger, child. And I can empathise. I can understand the attachment to worldly possessions can bring poisonous emotions upon us…"
"Oh wow, very perceptive!" Rose tutted. "Yeah, when people get scammed, their loved ones get angry! Incredible observation, you're really good at reading-"
"Sit."

Rose's rump was plopped down on the stool in an instant.
The command wasn't a sharp one. But it had slid into her head like a dagger between the ribs, catching her off guard and making her body comply unthinkingly. And since she'd sat down, standing up felt like an awkward thing to try…
"Now, let's see about dealing with that anger," the fox said. "I will purge it from your system. And I'm sure you'll soon feel just as serene and unburdened as your boyfriend out there. And I'll even let you have this one for free…"
"Hmph." Rose crossed her arms defiantly. There was a slight shift in the fox's tone, a more casual one. Interesting. "Alright, hit me."
There was going to be some cheap parlour trick here, she was sure of it. There'd be some sleight of hand, some cold reading, educated guesses that would wow some people, but certainly not her.
"I want you to set that anger you're feeling right now in your mind," the fox said. "Breathe into it. There is nothing wrong with feeling anger and frustration. Send me your energies, and I will channel it into this reading… though I suggest you relax your jaw."
…Oh.
Rose was holding her jaw tightly, her teeth were grinding together…
She relaxed it, and almost instantly, she noticed-
"Your shoulders are relaxing too, that's good. See already what that does? How it makes it easier to handle that swell of emotion… now, let us see what other tools we can use."
"Hnh, okay…" Rose nodded. She peered over the crystal ball, at the movements of the fox's paws. Three cards glided off the top of the deck with just a slight touch, alighting on the mat like flowers.
The fox flipped over the first - a figure lying down, with four swords resting above their head.
"The Four of Swords. Rest, relaxation, yes, yes… this is the theme of the reading. Keep the idea of releasing that anger in the back of your mind…"
Her claws traced along the swords on the card, back and forth. Rose kept her eyes on the hands. Making sure there was no funny business, no extra cards…

The next card was a throbbing heart, pierced with three more blades. Rose winced.
"The Three of Swords, reversed, but don't worry," "You were heartbroken in the past, but now you're very happy with your partner, yes. It can also mean forgiveness… you can forgive his folly."
The fox's claw traced along the swords, inwards towards the heart at the card's centre.
They were nicely manicured, not to mention painted a bright white colour.
…Rose was still keeping a close eye.
The paw shifted to the next card, and so did Rose's stare.
A blindfolded raccoon faced her, holding a sword in each hand, crossed upwards like an upturned pair of garden shears. And… why did the raccoon look like her-?

"The Two of Swords. You're at an impasse, you're stubborn, perhaps, you don't want to allow yourself to relax because you're afraid of what it might bring perhaps… Maybe we need another card."

Rose nodded. She agreed. This was all a little confusing to follow, if she was being honest. She needed to know more. Her mind was having a lot of trouble settling on one detail or another, so maybe the next card would clarify further…

A gleaming, disembodied paw clutched a glittering sword pointed towards the heavens, with a crown floating at its tip like a halo.
What did that mean…
"The Ace of Swords. You're confused, your thoughts are full, and you just need to allow that mind to clear… clear it for me… one more, yes, just one more…?"

"Nhn…" Rose nodded. Her mind was clearing. Just one more. Yes, just one more. Then it would all make sense.
Rose's eyes were already almost closed…
She was faintly aware that she was leaning forward now, almost draped over the crystal ball between them…
The final card was turned over. It depicted raccoon mid-dance, wearing a dress that spiralled holographically with rainbow shades, dazzling Rose, making her blink, and grunt, and…
"The Fool."
The card was snapped onto the table. The fox's other paw cradled Rose's face.
This card represents blankness. Quiet. Sleep. So sleep, poor fool... And rest."

Rose felt her throat press against the glass ball, her body slumped forward onto it, with very little distance to travel.. Her eyelids butterflied shut.
"There, I've convinced you, haven't I?" The fox chuckled. Her tone had shifted, sharpened, but Rose was too relaxed to care. She was convinced. So relaxed. Why had she even been angry in the first place?

"This was free, of course, but I do hope you'll… what's that, you'd like to offer me payment?"
Rose didn't remember saying that. But if the fox said it was true, and the fox was right about everything else… she didn't see any reason not to follow along.
She took out her wallet, and took out banknote after banknote, as bidden.
"That's it. As much as you feel comfortable giving out, as much as you feel I'm worth. But worth doesn't matter, does it… money doesn't matter. It doesn't nourish your mind, it keeps you leashed to the world. So give it over, all of it…"

Rose was already doing so. She emptied her wallet leaf by leaf, placing each new note on the table in a growing, neat little stack.
Each note she removed felt like a weight being lifted, like those little sheets of paper were made of steel.
"There we are…" the fortune teller said. "Now, feel the lightness remaining within you even as you leave…"
The slight inflection on the fox's final word brought Rose to her feet. She glided out of the tent, smiling serenely, only faintly remembering to take her wallet with her and slip it back into her nearly discarded bag.
Socks was waiting for her outside, and he looked just as content and relaxed as he did when she left. The smile widened slightly when he saw her…
"She was really nice…" Rose remarked as she embraced him.
"Told you…" he giggled.
The lovers staggered through the carnival together, moving in tandem like they were in a three legged race, or two drunkards seeking out a taxi….
Though if people looked close, they'd see the stars in their eyes, the tell tale scent of madame's perfume… all the other carnies knew they'd been cleaned out by the fortune teller.
Sela picked up her winnings from the table and counted them, taking her time to leaf through.
"Another 70 dollars… nice."
She grinned. This would cover another few week's worth of botanicals and herbs for her potion brewing hustle. A few more marks like those two, and she'd be set for the next quarter-year.
She settled back with a smile, and waited. If she put out feelers into the 'universe', another mark - no, another lost soul would come to her before long.