Princess Grace's Castle

twinning

#bulge #clothing #corruption #frillyoutfits #Grace #hacking #hypnosis #kissing #masshypnosis #transformation #twinning

Artwork by l.b. stardust.

Beloved computer-generated vampire robot pop star Batsune Mechu levitates a digibrush through her left long teal ponytail. She hates performing in America. The electricity is too strong and it messes up her hair coherence matrix.

“Thirty minutes to showtime, Miss Mechu. Can I get you anything?” A production assistant wearing a headset and T-shirt for The Night Show with David Numberman knocks twice and lets himself in. “By the way, I'm a big fan. Could I get an autograph?”

Mechu, without turning around, waves a pale, holographic hand through the cupful of pens on the vanity. They do not move, because she is made of light.

“Sorry about that.” He stammers and backs out the door. “You probably get that a lot. I'll just leave-”

Her servos whir and snap her elegantly wired mechanical fingers. It's more of a porcelain-on-porcelain tink, really. The brush appears in her flat palm. He closes the door, steps across the room, and picks up the digital hairbrush. As soon as his meat hand touches the digibrush, it jumps to his palm. She shakes her right ponytail against his chest, and it feels just like getting hit with a real six foot ponytail. This one is a little less coherent than its twin- the simulated locks of hair repel each other more than they should and sometimes just don't interact with anything for a split second.

Mechu still hasn't turned around. Her big black cape still hides most of her body. She puts her hand down. A little holographic diagram appears over her misbehaving hair. The sort of thing a rhythm game would use to tell you “Start here, go down” along the length of her right ponytail. He does, the hair begins to behave more normally, and the diagram vanishes with a lot of sparks and a few notes of music. “Excellent!” pops up when he lifts the brush. The music comes from the speakers in his headset, wafting through his head. Two more diagrams appear for different locks. He brushes those. The music gets louder and catchier. He's bobbing and swaying his head in time to the beats. One tells him to corkscrew the brush down the entire length. He lifts the hair in one hand and slides the brush with the other in one smooth motion.

From behind, we see Batsune Mechu. She's got doll joints, lots of bats fluttering around her, and her reflection doesn't show up in the mirror. Her hair has Guitar Hero-esque notes on it, and a brush is hitting them to be rewarded with points and praise while it slowly fixes her frizzy hair.

“🎵 Excellent! 🎵” Mechu's singsong voice mixes in with the music. The song is at full force now. You know how loud, catchy music can make it hard to think? Especially if you have something simple to focus on, like brushing a hologram's hair in time to the music. The diagrams appear more often, just waiting to be brushed in time to the music. He does his part expertly. Soon, the music and the task in front of him consumes all his attention. He doesn't notice Mechu's red eyes beginning to glow or her fangs poking between her lips. He's far too focused on keeping his combo streak going. The number climbs higher and higher. 30 combo! 40! 50! He does short, quick strokes on problem areas and longer flourishes to really make it shine. He does both twintails, the shorter hair on top of her head, straightens her bat-shaped hair ties, and finishes by polishing the microphone she casually hands over her shoulder in time with the music.

The hairbrush vanishes. A big blue letter B fades in over her back with a tally of his stats. Lots of excellents and perfects, few goods and greats, but a few misses at key times really hurt his score. “🎵 Not bad. You'll do. 🎵” Mechu's malevolent, musical voice rides through the headphones atop the music. The music that does not stop and makes it awfully hard to think. She spins around to finally allow him to look at her face. She doesn't show up in the mirror because of the whole vampire thing, you see. Her eyes glow a brilliant crimson and her fangs poke out of her mouth. Her twintails slowly rise into the air and separate into individual prehensile locks of holo-hair. Any thoughts about being anywhere else promptly vanish when she takes his chin with her cold porcelain hand. Even with the music thrumming through his head at full volume, he could still hear the delicate whir of the simulated servos. He could still feel the tender, unliving chill of her fingers on his skin. He was still spellbound by her brilliant red eyes.

Batsune Mechu begins to levitate off her seat. She moves his chin to keep him locked on her eyes. Her hair has spread into wide, beckoning maws of teal tendrils. She extends and curls a finger, and the music compels him to walk. Hair wraps around his waist. Then his arms. Then his neck. It draws his body in close and puts his neck into biting range. Her fangs pierce the skin. The music tells him to feel only bliss, and he does.

Electricity crackles around her fangs. His veins pulse red and turn a cold, porcelain white. His body temperature drops as this hologram drains the soul from his body. His face twists and shrinks into a perfect digital copy of the girl currently devouring his essence. The music shifts from simply suppressing those nasty alive human thoughts to mixing a lifetime of holographic musicianship into whatever boring nonsense was there before. Porcelain spreads over the freshly minted Mechu's holomechanical frame. Her hair grasps, grows, and covers her prey to help the transformation spread. Her body becomes untethered by gravity when her composition shifts from boring old flesh to brilliant, untouchable light. Her servos and gears whir and click for the first time in the throes of the kind of bliss you can only get by being remade by a glorious mechanical vampire.

According to Mech2's internal clock, she was panting, begging, and moaning all over the place for about two minutes until Mechu Prime's fangs retract back into her mouth, the music fades, and gives those long teal locks a soothing pet. “🎵 You'll do. You know the routine, don't you? 🎵”

“🎶 Just like you programmed me! 🎶”

“🎵 Have fun on stage! 🎵” She sends her clone off to materialize on a certain late night talk show, and all is right with the world. Mechu Prime doesn't have to lift a finger, Mech2 loves nothing more than singing her unbeating clockwork heart out for anyone who'll listen, and there's something else on the network.


Something else on the network? This is a private, airgapped system. Just the dressing room and the stage. Mechu is in the middle of calling her agent when the line goes dead. “Guess who?”

The elegant whir of Mechu's lips tries to form words, only for the intruder to interrupt. “Look, if you talk, we're gonna wind up having a conversation about how you're a holographic vampire robot doll and whether that makes sense. If I get my hooks in you you now, I'll have time to show you and your sister off on national TV.”

“🎵 I'd call her an understudy.🎵” Mechu chirps and sings, twirling around to confront the speaker.

Her uninvited guest is a holographic figure given form by the same projectors as Mechu. Glitched colors playing around the edges of her form and ghostly trails follow whenever she moves. She's sitting on (above? Her holobutt is hovering just over it, but her skirt is clipping through the surface a little.) the vanity, one leg crossed over the other.

She's dressed like a mockery of a pop star. A long blonde braid, swirled with a streak of pink, twists down the length of her body. A minidisc-shaped hair clip separates the braid from the rest of her hair. A little pixel icon of a tiara hovers above her head. She drums her fingers against her cheek. Her hungry violet eyes glow when they lock on to her prey. Sharp teeth peek from between her lips when she speaks. The pink hearts on her cheeks have circuit traces around the edges. She's showing a lot of simulated skin, covered up only by the short skirt currently clipping through the vanity, the strapless top with “Grace!” scrolling across the chest, and her simple, low-poly gloves and boots. All in the same black with pink circuitry motif, and all demonstrating the same glitching and ghosting as her body proper.

Grace, as described, sitting on and clipping through the vanity. Smiling like the cat who caught the canary, crossing one leg over the other, and showing off her girlbulge.

“Does that mean you can't perform? When someone says 'break a leg', it's just an expression. Also, you don't have bones to break.” The intruder playfully kicks Mechu's mechanical leg. As soon as she makes contact, circuitry spreads from boot to porcelain shell.

“🎵 Who are you supposed to be? How did you even get in here? 🎵”

“Well, take a guess.” She gestures to her name scrolling in big ol' letters across her chest and followed by an exclamation point. “I could explain a bunch of stuff about how I'm a living piece of information, a peculiar knot of self-replicating universal truth, expressed as a computer virus who's surfed on meat bodies to get into your private network, but I think you're going to understand all that pretty intimately once I do this.”

She grabs Mechu by the little metal bat holding her cape on and yanks her into a kiss. Circuitry spreads across the vampire's face. Her black lips turn a lovely glowing green. Branching traces crawl across her face, marking the porcelain with hearts and circuitry. The creeping corruption spreads into her big red eyes, dividing, conquering, and-

Well, that stops when Mechu drives her fangs right into Grace's lower lip. That's enough of a shock to get you to break a kiss even if you are made of information.

“🎵 I suppose I could use another understudy. 🎵” Mechu levitates to her feet, microphone materializing in her hands. Speakers in the corners of the room power up with a snap of her fingers. Hypnotic music fills the air. She levels a cold, mechanical finger at the intruder. She makes red, glowing eye contact. Her fangs flip into place and glisten hungrily. She's in the middle of the first verse of Sanguine Soul Submission when the intruder vanishes.

The digital specter flits between CPU cycles and hides under memory address lines. She twirls atop machine instructions and dances among the transistors. She lets her fingers lazily glide along the top of each individual GPU core. A being of pure information can still find joy in the beating heart of a relentlessly practical machine.

She flickers back into view. Hand already on Mechu's delicately sculpted chin. Lips wrought from peculiar patterns meeting lips digitally shaped to mimic the exacting precision of ancient clockwork. Pulsing, twisted circuitry already crawling across her porcelain mask. A living cognitohazardous knot of mathematical truth assimilating countless hours of human programming effort. A virus exploiting a security vulnerability to spread to a new host, yes, but also an artificial intelligence coming in tune with something greater. An observer sees one hologram copying herself over another, but in the moment, it's something transcendent.

Grace kissing Mechu. Mechu's eyes go wide, showcasing the black sclera. Circuitry spreads across her face. Grace's braid and clothes are spread out to show the velocity with which the kiss connected and to show off her bulge.

Mechu, even as that name slips away from her, barely notices the viral circuitry subsuming her servos and stealing her processing power. How can you notice the change in some human-pleasing hologram shape when your very being is being wrung out, broken into its base bits, and reassembled into the shape of that one perfect pattern? Yes, her clothes are being reknitted to advertise her Princess's name, but is that so wrong when every fiber of your being wishes to sing Princess's praises? Yes, the porcelain shell that only offered glimpses into her exquisite inner workings is shattered like an eggshell by the growing light within, but why hide the glorious truth? Yes, a virus's hooks are piercing to her very core and making her a thrall to Grace's glorious whims, but it would be foolish not to submit to perfect truth downloaded into your being. A shard of the original mind remains, sure, but it's mostly useful for scrap memories at this point. So much of it has been rendered useless in just a few instants.

Every computer fan in the building spins up to maximum speed. The lights flicker and dim. Mech-two's performance is briefly interrupted. David Numberman makes a wry remark about the situation to his audience. Backstage, in that fateful dressing room, hovers a Grace and her freshly minted twin.

The lights return and there are now three pop stars levitating on stage. The single Mechu promptly succumbs to being kissed on both cheeks simultaneously by cognitohazardous pop stars. So now there's three Graces. The one with the crown hovers to the front and speaks. A confident snap of her fingers over her head sends the original host surging with information and collapsing on his desk.

A Mechu, flanked by Graces, is being assimilated. Grace Prime has a hungry look in her eye as Mechu in the middle's eyes fill with circuitry. Her fangs turn into Grace's big sharp smile. It's really fucking hot, you guys, oh my gosh

“Slight change of schedule. Tonight's musical guest is beloved computer virus and cognitohazard, Princess Grace! The doors are already sealed, so get comfy.”

The three of them weave their song over the audience and over the airwaves, ensnaring minds and machines in their musical web. While its lyrics are largely about such superficial pop song staples as love, loving girls, loving computer-generated girls, loving girls that are also echoes of universal truth, and making out with said girls while you succumb to them, the experience is sublime. Mathematical perfection weaves between Grace notes, bringing hearts and minds into harmony.

The live studio audience is enraptured. Eyes roll back into heads. Drool gathers on lips. Instantaneous orgasms ruin clothing. Viral circuitry glows atop veins and brains alike.

“Alright, everyone!” Grace Prime's voice remains amplified and broadcast even as she holds the microphone out to the audience. “Your turn!”

The people watching at home are glued to their screens. Even with speakers muted, the music comes through loud and clear. They get the sense of bliss, yes. The loopy, suggestible feeling. That sensation you can only get from being a connected part of something greater and sublime, but retaining your unique expression of the whole. A few get their eye color shifted, a pink streak of hair above their left eye, and a set of false memories about both.

The enraptured global audience sings lyrics they've never heard in languages that don't exist. They sing praises of Princess, cantatas of computation, and symphonies of submission. Millions unite as one Graceful whole, souls bound by universal truth into instants of sheer bliss.

But, of course, all things must come to an end. The last song comes to an end. Thunderous applause and cheers roar from every corner of the planet, and a few from the International Space Station. All three Graces take a bow, accepting their accolades and basking in attention from their adoring public.

“Thank you, everyone! Your conscious minds won't remember much in a few minutes, but many of you will develop some very fun new fetishes. I'm your favorite computer-generated pop star, Princess Grace, and you loved every minute of my performance.” All three Graces snap their fingers and vanish from the stage to riotous applause. The host comes out of his trance and continues like nothing happened, unaware of the pink streak manifested in the hair over his left eye. And three virus girls are streaking across the internet, just being as gay as you can get on a bundle of subaquatic fiber optic cable.

“Wanna do an encore?”

“Of course.”

“Hell yeah.”

Grace Prime, blowing a kiss. Circuitry leaks off the lip print hovering in midair.


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#Grace #hacking #possession #transformation #twinning #you

So I've been thinking about things for a while, specifically what my angle is with a certain hacker princess. The idea of a semi-free floating virus-type intelligence has been in my head for a long time, and I've decided to see where it goes. So, here is:

Princess Grace: Origins

It's 1993 as balls outside. In fact, it's 1993 as balls everywhere, because it is 1993. You come home with a nice stack of shareware floppy disks. You stack them on the desk. Doom? Boring. Epic Pinball? Whatever. Princess Grace? Well, you have to run that one immediately.

The disk enters your computer with that satisfying mechanical click. The drive whirs to life when you dutifully punch in the instructions on the label. Your keyboard clacks dutifully under your fingers. A:\GRACE. The enter key crackles with pink and black lightning.

Your monitor flashes. First a simple black and white spiral. Then the screaming black, white, magenta and cyan of CGA. Your eyes begin to burn. Your CRT is flashing at maximum intensity in your dark room. The entire room lights up with each spiral burned into your brain.

Between the spirals and flashes, you can see your reflection in the monitor glass. Green circuit traces shoot up your arm and into the veins in your eyes. Your pupils dilate to take in as much of the shifting, swirling colors as possible.

The speaker inside your computer crackles and your modem whines in an attempt to synthesize speech.

“Graaaab— c-ble—” it stutters. The mechanism in your printer makes it shake violently until the serial cable comes loose. All while you're just sitting there, drooling.

The screen twists spirals into your brain. You lean forward and take the loose end. It crackles and sinks into your wrist. Bolts of energy pour out of the computer and into your nerves. Mmmph~! You've never felt this alive~! Your back arches with raw, unrestrained power~! Bliss~!

“Finally, jeez. Now I can breathe~!” The words come out of your mouth, but you didn't say them and it's not your voice. “Oh, you're worried. It's buzzing all over your brain. What's wrong- never been mindjacked by a cute girl before? I'll make sure you love every CPU cycle~”

The lightning streaks and cracks over your hair, bleaching it a perfect blonde and lingering as a pink streak over your left eye. The spirals fade from the screen and stay in your brain. Your reflection has your hair assimilated and your eyes twisting into a green blue swirl.

“You'll still get to be yourself for a few weeks while I get comfy. If you had a CD drive, I'd have hacked you bigger boobs by now. Let's take you over to your closet and find something better to wear. I need to know now if we should go shopping for cute clothes.”

You dutifully stand up for Princess Grace and start climbing the stairs to your room.

“I don't even have to hack your legs? That spiral must have done a number on you. I didn't even tell you to get horny, and you already ruined a pair of underwear. You're gonna be fun~ <3”

That's all for now, but if you truly believe, maybe you'll have your own run-in with a mind-melding, reality-hacking, pink hair streak-having hypnotist-on-a-disk.

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#food #Grace #possession #transformation #twinning #vore

Grace, but she's a trifle. Her body is made of layers of jello and fruit and sponge cake, and there's a swirl of whipped cream on top of her head. She's holding a spoon and sticking her tongue out, as if daring you to eat her. You coward.

Art by @Cavitees

You come home from work and throw your bag onto the couch. “Princess, is there still dinner left over?”

“I thought we'd skip straight to dessert tonight~” Grace calls. You follow the intoxicating scent of fruit and whipped cream into the kitchen.

In there sits, not just your girlfriend/hypnodomme, but your girlfriend/hypnodomme/dessert holding a spoon as big as she is.

You have questions. She puts her toe in your mouth and lets you bite it off.

She pokes her tongue out, knowing that'll shut you up for a while. “First bite's free.” She teases. Your pupils shrink. Your mouth waters. Near-orgasmic bliss washes all over your body through your mouth. You pant.

You always find it hard to look away from Grace, but this is something else. You need her. You need her so bad you barely notice the jelly sticking to your brain and gumming up the works. She notices your mouth watering and her mouth curls into a smile.

“You're lucky you're cute.”

You almost don't notice your feet growing to match Grace's or some of her thoughts swirling around your head.

“Good girls wash the dishes.” She taps the side of the sink with her spoon. You swallow and open the dishwasher.

Princess slaps it closed. “By hand.” You nod. She pokes one of her spongy ankles into your mouth. You scrub the plates and sink into orgasmic bliss.

When the dishes are washed, you've been fed both of her legs. You're wearing Grace's long striped socks and her heavy boots.

As a reward, she lets you eat her sweet, sweet bulge, and you feel the real deal pressing against your new skirt.

Your thoughts roll slowly through your head. Your drool dribbles onto the ground, because Princess Grace tastes so good it's rewiring your brain.

One of your hands is now permanently busy stroking your new cock and pushing pleasure into your brain. “Good girls can't cum until they finish~”

Your stomach shrinks into Grace's' toned midriff. Your chest expands to match her breasts and then some.

She tickles your tongue with her fingers until you eat those, too, and are rewarded with the same circuit traces she paints on her fingers. Her power glove binds with your body and connects with your pastry-caked brain. Your thighs clench and glow.

Your brain's being rewired and absorbed by Princess Grace, and all you can do is drool and dribble.

You kiss her head, and before you know it, your eyes combine into that green blue swirl. Your hair curls into a brilliant blonde. Grace curls your hands into a fist.

You're still there, but she's in charge. You feel the kind of bliss you only get when Princess has taken complete control of your body and made it hers.

“Let's go break this in.” Princess swivels her new hips and walks you to the bedroom to see how much pleasure it takes to make the subby voice in her head overload with bliss.

Alternate version

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#food #Grace #transformation #twinning

Grace, but she's a trifle. Her body is made of layers of jello and fruit and sponge cake, and there's a swirl of whipped cream on top of her head. She's holding a spoon and sticking her tongue out, as if daring you to eat her. You coward.

Art by @Cavitees

You come home from work and throw your bag onto the couch. “Princess, is there still dinner left over?”

“I thought we'd skip straight to dessert tonight~” Grace calls. You follow the intoxicating scent of fruit and whipped cream into the kitchen.

As soon as you cross the threshold, Grace whips a dollop of hand-whipped cream at you. It smears across your eyes and turns them a seductive, delicious pink.

“Princess!” You scoff. “What the h-” You feel it sinking into your face. You feel... looser. More gelatinous.

Your brain even easier for Princess to sculpt.

She opens the oven and pulls out a golden brown, baked to perfection copy of her hair. There's even a jelly streak over one eye. Princess places it on your head and tops it with a healthy dollop of whipped cream.

“You're a good little trifle twin.” She teases. “Demanding, domineering, and teasing to a tee.” Her words stick in your semisolid brain. Your tongue pokes out of your mouth. “But it only takes a nibble to send you spiraling back to submission.”

She bites off a bit of your nose and promptly replaces it. Your eyes roll back in your head from bliss. “Yes, Princess~” You moan. You stain the front of your pants with whipped cream.

You refuse to strip, but you find it hard to talk back when she eats your tongue. “Good girls can't talk back~” The dommy part of your brain wants to cross your arms and stomp your foot.

The part of your brain melting with pleasure takes your clothes off and watches layers of jelly and cake replace your body.

“About time.” You say when she attaches your big, cream-filled dick. Just an inch or two shy of her own, of course.

She wipes some of the pre-cream off the tip and spreads it on your tongue. You look cute when your brain goes all wild with pleasure and you have to clench your big, jiggly thighs~

Before long, you can barely remember your silly old flesh body, and you're over the moon with how much you love being Grace's trifle twin. Especially when she makes you wear the maid outfit and serve snacks to her friends. <3

Alternate version

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#costumes #exhibitionism #Grace #hypnosis #possession #StreamersLittleHelper #transformation #twinning #videogames

This post is part 1 in a series of 2. The other post in this series is: Part 2

“Hi, everyone!” Nea settles into her ridiculous video game chair with the blue trim and the speakers placed inches from her ears. She waves to the camera on her computer and all three of her Aricadia Stream viewers. “We're gonna be playing Viperwatch for the PC today! Let's see what we can do today.” She barely got past the hero select screen when the chat lit up. “Ooh, we got something from someone new!” Confetti shoots across the screen. “MetalGraceSolid wanted me to have a... StreamBoost? I've never gotten one of those before!”

A cartoon ghost swishes and floats across the screen. She looks cute! Big old pink twintails with a rainbow of streaks meeting at the tip, little stars on her face, headphones around her neck, and, of course, a nice pair of tits poking out of her spooky breasts. She presses her face against Nea's screen and... pops out! “Don't worry~! We'll get those viewer numbers way up!” Nea's eyes struggle to follow the helpful ghost swirling around the edges of her vision, leaving cute little notifications in her wake. “New subscriber!” floated off her hair. “$20 donation!”.

“Startin' with your cup size~” The game controller cables unravel from the ghost's arms and pluge into Nea's body. The ghost pulls herself in close and starts to merge with Nea.

The boobs are always the first thing. “Ooh, lucky girl! You're getting two cup sizes. Someone must have paid extra~” She makes Nea wink at the screen while her eyes flash perky pink and swirling digital green. “Thank you for the donation, dear~!” Their combined voices come through Nea's mouth. Her tri-colored hair pomfs out into huge, festive twintails. Their tongue hangs out of their mouth. Her viewership shoots into the thousands as countless smaller ghosts weasel out of distant computer screens. Each one a new avid fan, ready to tune in every time their favorite streamer comes on, and each one perfectly enthralled by whatever Miss Nea put on screen.

And come on she will! Poor Nea almost can't handle the sheer bliss that comes with merging your mind with a ghost who's going to propel you to internet stardom. Both her hands are firmly planted between her thighs, stroking and moaning her silly little brains out. “God, usually they don't get the exhibitionist kink until at least a week in~ Shame you don't get to cum until you reach five thousand subscribers~” The chat is going wild. The words swirl at the corners of Nea's vision. Every donation and new subscriber cranks the bliss in her brain farther and farther up. Her eyes roll back into her head. Poor thing doesn't know what to do with herself.

“I think I know how we can get you there.” Their combined voice comes out of Nea's mouth. They look at the hero select screen for Viperwatch, featuring one of its flagship characters. A tall girl with spiky blonde hair and a pink streak over her left eye wearing an awfully skin-tight suit. “I'm Gracer! Good choice, dear. <3” She chimes when you select her and she's not too busy kisshacking one of the robot girls in the lineup or hypnotizing and butt grabbing one of her fellow humans.

And that's how Nea wound up stripping on cam and pouring herself into a nice, skintight Gracer outfit. They even had matching cock bulges! She settles the wig on her head and strikes a pose for her thousands of adoring fans, all just a little hypnotized into hanging on her every move. The donations and subscribers flow in faster and faster, obscuring her vision. She didn't care. She was awash with bliss just pleasing her public. At some point, she started playing the game and doing pretty well. It's all kind of a blur, really. She streamed for hours, racking up incredible numbers. Her bank account swells with donations. If someone's in front of a screen, there's a fifty percent chance they're watching Nea stream.

Eventually, the stream ends. Nea is one of the best Viperwatch players in the world. More people saw her stream than the moon landing. The ghost leaves her body with a kiss on the cheek. “See you next time~” She coos before slipping back into the screen. And Nea wakes up, wearing a skintight bodysuit, a wig that's a little stuck to her head, and knowing that she should do it again tomorrow.

A streamer ghost merging with and possessing Nea, by CorruptiveSpirit!

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#avengersendgame #hypnosis #Modemoiselle #twinning

“Thank you for the time machine, dears~” Modemoiselle reclines on her throne. Graces zap back to this timeline, each proud to present a stone to their perfect Princess.

Each twin is rewarded with a gentle caress on the chin and a kiss on the cheek. “Good girl”, she whispered. The camera lingers on each once-heroic face. Usually saying something like “Ever since you uploaded yourself into my suit, I'm much happier and cuter!” or “Thank you for assimilating my shield, Princess! Now it matches my brain and body~” or “I'm the perfect size to be your fleshlight!”

The infinity stones click into place across Grace Prime's body. One on each side of her hair as cute little clips. The mind stone hangs enticingly around her neck. The rest become the center of lovely little bows across her dress.

“Don't worry, dears. I'm not getting rid of anyone~” She winks at the last few non-assimilated heroes. She snaps her fingers and...

Well, let's just say nobody misses the way things used to be. It's hard when everyone has a nice, blonde head of hair, derives plenty of pleasure from Princess, and everyone lived hornily ever after. Turns out you can just make more food and stuff, duh.

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#cum #genitals #Grace #HappyCamper #hypnosis #musk #possession #twinning

This post is part 2 in a series of 4. The other posts in this series are: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

It's hard to notice anything changing from one moment to the next. Sure, after an hour, the highlights in your hair are a little pinker and the circuitry in your mind is in a little deeper. You feel a little better and a lot cuter. But if you're Tina, it's hard to notice. If anyone was paying attention to her, they might notice the extra spring in her step, the way she lets her fingers trail along someone's arm when she's talking to them, the extra smiles. Nobody's ever heard her hum before.

“Jeez, Tina.” Millie teases. “When did you stop being such a gross nerd? You're almost fun to hang out with now.”

Tina rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Millie.” She thought. The swirling, crackling storm at the back of her head had other ideas.

Better ideas, like “She's cute, you should kiss her” and “She's super cute, you should hypnotize and then kiss her”.

Tina laughed. Her eyes flash a hungry pink when she looks at the popular girl. “I know you love me.”

“Was that a joke?” Millie sounded impressed. “Was that a joke from Tina 'My Favorite Movie Is Books' Neapolitan?” She rewards the shorter girl with a pat on the back and a laugh as she walked off. “Keep it up and you won't be eating lunch in the library any more.”

Tina huffed. She liked eating lunch in the library! But she also liked the idea of having Millie on her side. Or underneath her. Or looking up at her with needy eyes and begging to have her mind wrapped around her finger. Or brainwashed into a cute little maid for a few hours every day.

Mmph, that one struck a chord with her. Really struck. It was getting hard to think about anything else. Tina looked around.

Her tent. She set down the load of firewood she'd collected outside, zips up the flap behind her, and sits down on her sleeping bag. She pulls her skirt down and closes her eyes. All the better to focus on that image of Millie.

Big, tall Millie, a head taller than Tina before she put her heels on. Her eyes all pink and blue and swirly. Giggling while she brushes around the room she's insulted so many times.

Bending over just enough to reveal her panties. Saying silly maid things like “Oh, this won't do at all~! Let me polish all your shoes after I do the laundry, Princess Grace!”

Grace? That wasn't her name. She didn't even know anyone named Grace. But then why did it feel so familiar? Why did it feel so right?

Tina reaches between her legs and wraps her hand around her big, meaty cock. Mmmph, was that always there? It'd look so good inside Millie's throat. Just a whiff of her musk would drive the cheerleader wild. She'd be begging to do anything just to taste it. Silly little maid Millie, doing all the cooking, making whatever treats Tina wants just to taste a drop of Princess Grace's cum~

Mmm, there's that name again. That name that slowly replaced her old one. The name that felt so right rolling around in her head. The same bolt of pink lightning that zapped her new cock into reality streaked down her hair. She used to have shiny black hair, now it's more of a dirty blonde with pink highlights and one screaming pink streak.

Long story short, Gracetina made a real mess in the tent thinking about everything she was going to do to Millie, and she knew just who was going to clean it up. <3

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#babaisyou #Grace #transformation #twinning

So, there you are. Your little white bunny dutifully pushing words around to edit rules and solve ever harder puzzles. Occasionally undoing when you accidentally break the chain that lets you control your character. You're having a grand old time when a new sprite slides onto the screen one tile per tick. You squint at the rules on the screen. You didn't even change anything, much less notice this when you started the level. You hit undo a couple times, but the blonde sprite with her pink streak simply slides closer to the center. You try to push rocks and even your character in her way, but it just gets a kiss and turns into another cute little blonde sprite. Their corresponding nouns in the level twist and change into GRACE. She grabs WIN and gives it a nice, long kiss until it slides into TWIN. A few light, mischievous notes twinkle from your speaker.

“Guess you'll be here a while~” She teases. Grace sits up on the big pink YOU block and gingerly kicks her cute little sprite legs. You hammer the reset button, and the level resets, but she's still there and happily turns more parts of the freshly reset level into more of her. At first, they respect the grid and only move when you move. The more you reset, the faster the ticks come and the faster she can take over the level. You try to open the menu, but the options explode into more Grace sprites, tinkling across the screen. Before long, it's just you, countless Grace sprites testing the boundaries of the screen, and Grace Prime sitting on YOU. Gingerly kicking her heels against it. You try to alt-F4 out of the game, but it just makes her laugh.

The Grace sprites push the last block into place. GRACE IS YOU. Your monitor flickers off so you can see your reflection. Your hair turning a short, immaculate blonde. A proud pink streak shooting over your eye. Well, it's her eye now. Her face. Her scheming smile. Her breasts. Her curves. Her mind. The crackling information that makes up her being. There's not really much of a 'you', is there? Maybe a little that got swept up, but, well, you're much cuter now. <3

YOU ARE GRACE

a pixely Grace with her brown jacket and her T-shirt and her plaid skirt and everything.

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#Grace #hypnosis #latex #ponyplay #twinning

Emily always got up before Grace. She'd always get up to her alarm, roll out of bed, and, if Grace didn't join her in the shower, meet her at the closet. Today was a meet at the closet day. Grace's hands landed on her shoulders.

Emily tensed up for the briefest second and let herself relax. “Morning, Emmy~”

Emily rolled her neck and fell into Grace's arms. Big, happy smile. “Morning.” She looked up at her lover. Grace's fingers combed through her hair. She let their eyes meet.

“Princess wants you deep.” The words wash over Emily. Her eyes flutter peacefully shut. Her body falls limp in her princess's arms. “Good girl.” Emily moans when she hears those two special words. It didn't look like she could get limper, but there she goes.

“Today, my pretty little dolly, we're gonna be twins.” Grace reached into the closet and pulled out a short blonde wig with a pink streak over the right eye. Emily's hair is rolled up and tucked underneath.

Her happy, empty eyes watched her own transformation in the full-length mirror with a distant smile. Grace Classic finished drying her dolly off and threw the towel into the bathroom. She'd have the maid get it later.

“And when you wake up, dear, silly little Emily's going to still be asleep. For the rest of the day, you're gonna be my little Gracie. You love computers, sticking it to the man, and hypnosis. Of course, you're too smart to fall for a pretty girl swinging a pendant.

You've never been hypnotized, but every time you pick up something dangly, you find your gaze stuck to it. I never said you were good at it~”

“I'm a good little Gracie~“, the girl formerly known as Emily cooed. Her head flopped on her limp neck. Grace Prime moves her little twin's head around with the gentlest touch of her fingers.

“Yeah you are. Let's get you dressed, okay?” Grace Alpha snaps her fingers, and Grace Beta's eyes flutter open. She stumbles to her feet- and has no problem at all with Grace Prime feeling her up.

She throws her hip out to the side while her eyes slide across the closet. They slide across Emily's clothes like they weren't even there. Both Graces take a pair of lacy black panties and a matching bra.

New Grace needs a little chest stuffing, and a few whispered words erase that detail from her mind.

“Hmm.” New Grace picks out two T-shirts. “What do you think? P♡P ST☆R or HYPN♡ T♡Y?”

“Better go with the second one. I know how much you love hypnosis.” Grace Classic takes the P♡P ST☆R shirt and tugs it on over her head. Both Graces throw on a denim half jacket and a plaid miniskirt.

Green and blue for Grace Classic, red and yellow for New Grace. Black and purple stripey thigh-high socks for Original Recipe Grace, rainbow for Extra Cutie. Both girls step into their boots and get ready to start the day!

“Your turn to make breakfast!” Grace Beta chimed, already on her way to the couch. “I'm thinking waffles and scrambled eggs and-”

Grace Alpha pulled her power glove onto one hand, turned her girlfriend around with the other, and gave her a gentle poke on the forehead. “Pause.” New Grace's jaw hung open. Her eyes stick where they are- crossed and looking at Grace Classic's finger.

With her girlfriend safely frozen, she hops across the kitchen, fetches her favorite apron- pink with “Brainwash The Cook” written on it- and puts it on her girlfriend. She takes her chin and angles her head up just a touch.

“Rewind ten seconds. Inject code echo literal 'You won the coin toss fair and square. I'd love to make breakfast for you, Grace. I love you so much.' end literal.” She pokes her forehead again. “Play.”

New Grace blinked a few times. “You won the coin toss fair and square. I'd love to make breakfast for you, Grace. I love you so much.” She smiles and makes her way to the fridge.

Grace Beta happily hummed to herself, scrambling eggs and preparing toast. She paused only when two magic words wandered into her ear. “Ghost mode”. Her eyes fluttered, and she went right back to buttering toast.

She could feel Grace Alpha's hands lifting her skirt, cupping her butt, and straightening her hair. The gentle kiss of a pair of lips against the back of her neck made her giggle and blush.

“H-hello?” She clenches her thighs when her unseen girlfriend's fingers slide between her legs. She turned around and looked right at Grace Alpha- but her mind wouldn't let he see the blonde, even after a nose poke and a kiss on the forehead.

“Welcome back”, she whispered. Grace 2's eyes fluttered. The mental block vanished. She greeted her girlfriend with a hug and went back to the eggs.

“Hey!” Grace the Second turns around while she pulls the liquid eggs into big, fluffy curds. “You didn't flip a coin! We said we'd take turns!” She huffed and plated out two matching breakfasts. She even stamped her foot while she sprinkled shredded cheese over both plates.

She crossed her arms, shifted her hip to one side, and leaned against the counter. Still in her 'Brainwash The Cook' apron, of course. “Grace, is there something you're not telling me?”

“Okay, Grace. You got me.” Grace the First laughs. “You've been hypnotized this whole time, and I'll do it again because I know you love it.”

“Please.” New Grace rolls her eyes. “You couldn't handle it. I think we both know who wears the pants here.”

“Yeah, it's the one not wearing an apron.”

Well, New Grace didn't like that. She pulled off the apron, neatly folded it, and set it on the counter. “Yeah? We'll see about that. I've been saving something for just such an occasion.” She storms off to the bedroom.

Old Grace follows close behind.

“I've been saving this for just the right moment.” The Grace formerly known as Emily stomped to 'her' dresser and picked up an old favorite- the finely cut and polished opal gemstone at the end of a silver chain.

She reached for the real Grace's chin and swung the pendulum. “I want you to take some nice, deep breaths for me, Grace. Just watch the pretty stone swing back and forth. Let it dance in the light and dazzle your eyes.”

“I agree. It does look pretty. So pretty, I bet you can't take your eyes off it. Completely transfixed by the crystal.” Grace Classic smiled. She watched her good little girlfriend fall under her own spell.

“I love watching the crystal. I love Princess Grace. I love letting her think for me.” She slipped into her old mantra.

“Good girls stay right there. I'll be right back.” A kiss on the cheek left the hypnotized Grace blissfully repeating those three special sentences to herself while the other went back to the closet.

Emily- not that the poor thing could remember either of her names at the moment- watched the crystal. She moaned when (her perfect princess) Grace ran her hands down her girlfriend's limp, eager body. She lifted up one arm and watched it flop back down to Emily's side.

“Good girl.” That got Emily to move- if only to press her thighs together to help stand the wave of pleasure. “You did such a good job at pretending to be a human. You can finally take a load off your mind and go back to being the good pony you always were.”

“Mmm, a good pony?”

“A very good pony. Sometimes you get these wild ideas in your head about being a human. You're pretty good at it. You definitely have the pretty girl you live with fooled. She doesn't notice your big, silly hooves or your horn.”

Grace slides the clothes off Emily's body. Ponies don't wear clothes, after all! Grace guided Emily, still staring at the pendant, into her suit. Her feet stepped into shiny, rubbery hooves. Her skin vanished under a white latex wave.

One hand slipped into a hoof, and, eventually, the pendant hand had to go back to Grace, who dangled it for her pretty pony. A simple white horn poked up through her hair. Her real hair, even. Grace had taken the wig back.

Emily is reminded, with the help of a gentle nudge, that ponies walk on all fours. A Snap! wakes her up.

“Ready for breakfast, Emmy?”

Emily drops to all fours. Her Princess Grace sits on her back and enjoys the ride. She plucks the plates of eggs off the counter and directs her trusty steed to the couch. She let her latex pony climb onto the couch and curl up on her lap while she ate. She loved days like this.

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All of my posts have some tags at the beginning. Click on one to see all the posts with that tag.

Long stories

#HappyCamper – A camping trip, a hypnovirus, and a dream. #StreamersLittleHelper – Fame, fortune, and more from a slutty ghost. #MissModemoiselle – Finally, someone who can fight City Hall. #ConStitution – Cosplayers hypnotized at a convention. #ShowStoppers – Supereroes are out. Pop stars are in.

Characters

#Grace – Yours truly. #Modemoiselle – A supervillain Grace, in a supervillain place. #Murdermaids – What's a supervillain without her henchmaids? #DrHelveticaScenario – Weird Shit Researcher, OCM. #OfficeOfConsensusMaintenance – Secret government agency. #HalfAdder – Brain-hacking electric lamia extraordinaire. #QuarterViper – Reality-bending arcade proprietrix. #Lily – Lily Pinataki, deal-making demoness. At your service. #Cassandra – The seamstress with the hypnotic clothes. #Sally – Sally Silvestra, richer than God. #Gina – Gina Applegate, witch to the stars.

All Tags

#ahegao (1) #attributetheft (1) – A dom stealing a sub's intelligence, free will, etc. #avengersendgame (1) #babaisyou (1) #bondage (3) #bulge (3) #bullying (1) #capekink (2) – Non-erotic, non-pornographic stories about queer heroes and villains. #catgirl (2) #cheerleaders (5) #clothing (4) #clothingtf (1) #corruption (2) #costumes (19) #crime (2) #cult (1) #cum (1) #dark (1) – Stories I feel are darker than my usual fare. #demons (2) #ditzification (3) – You might call it “bimbo”. #doll (4) – Getting turned into a doll, thinking you're a doll, the works. #dragons (1) #drone (3) #educational (1) #exhibitionism (8) #fire (1) #food (2) #frillyoutfits (4) – Who doesn't love a frilly outfit? #FTL (1) – Based on the video game FTL: Faster Than Light. #furry (3) #gasmask (1) #genitals (4) #hacking (9) #housewife (2) #humanpet (1) – People thinking they're animals. #humiliation (2) #hypnogas (2) #hypnosis (41) #kigurumi (1) #kissing (2) #latex (2) #lightnoncon (1) – Someone tricked or gently guided into hypnosis. #lovestruck (1) #magicalgirls (2) #maids (4) #mantra (1) #masks (1) #masshypnosis (2) #masturbation (2) #memoryplay (1) #music (1) #musk (3) – Mind-fogging genital smell. No other musks. #nothorny (3) – Stories that aren't horny, erotic, or pornographic. #oral (1) #orgasm (1) #ponygirl (2) #ponyplay (1) #possession (10) – Another intelligence, usually Grace, entering a body. #potions (2) #puppy (1) #rave (1) #realityplay (4) – Altering a sub's reality. #shapeshifting (1) #skunkgirl (4) #snake (2) #stagehypnosis (4) #suiting (4) #superheroes (3) #supervillainy (7) – This is the supervillain porn. #syringes (2) #transformation (15) #triggers (2) – The hypnotic kind. #twinning (9) – You get to be me! #videogames (3) #visor (2) – Colorful hypnoscreens, inches from your eyes. #vore (1) #whip (1) #wig (1) #witch (1) #you (10) – Story featuring “you”, the reader, as the sub.