Faith, Lust, and Hypnosis

Mira lay in bed, her small, childish fingers hovering over the faint glow of the System as it flickered to life. The system's smooth, melodic voice began its daily diagnostic, listing off her current bodily parameters with clinical precision. Mira's cheeks flushed as the system described her anatomy in vivid detail, every word like a caress against her innocent ears.

"Genital sensitivity: High," the system intoned, its voice steady, unyielding. "Clitoral responsiveness: Exceptional. Vaginal muscle tone: Healthy, adaptable."

Mira's breath caught as the system moved on to her secondary erogenous zones. "Nipple sensitivity: Elevated. Breast tissue: Responsive to stimulation with a noted preference for gentle to moderate pressure."

She squirmed under the blankets, her mind racing as the system continued, her body betraying her with a faint tingling sensation. The words painted an undeniable picture of her physique, each detail a reminder of the system's complete knowledge of her.

Mira's small hands clenched into fists, her face burning with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. "Stop it," she demanded, her voice trembling, though there was no one to hear her. "I don't want to hear this!"

The system paused, then resumed, its tone unaltered. "Rectal sensitivity: Moderate. Oral sensitivity: High, with a noted preference for—"

"Enough!" Mira's voice rose, despite her efforts to keep it down. She slammed her small fists against the mattress, tears of frustration welling up in her eyes. "Why do you keep doing this? Why do you have to tell me these things?"

The system fell silent, leaving Mira alone with her thoughts, the only sound of her uneven breathing. She hated this, hated being reminded of her body's susceptibilities, of the desires she couldn't yet fully understand. It felt like an invasion, a constant reminder of what she had lost, of what she was forced to endure in this fragile, vulnerable form.

She rolled onto her side, pressing her face into the pillow to muffle her sobs. The system remained quiet, its glow dimming slightly as if in response to her distress. But Mira knew better. It didn't care. It was just a system, programmed to follow its directives, no matter how much pain it caused her.

As the first tears began to fall, Mira knew the system wouldn't stop. It never did. It would keep pushing, probing, reminding her of her helplessness until she did what it wanted. And what it wanted was for her to embrace this new body, to submit to its desires, to let go of the dignity and power she once had.

But Mira was stubborn, clinging to what little of herself she had left. She wouldn't give in, no matter how much the system tried to wear her down. She would resist, even if it meant enduring these daily humiliations.

The system remained silent, its glow a faint reminder of its ever-present nature. Mira's body relaxed slowly, her breath steadying as she forced herself to let go of the anger. She had to stay strong, for herself, for everything she once stood for.

But deep down, a small, vulnerable voice whispered, how much longer could she keep this up?

Mira's legs shifted restlessly, the sheets bunching around her. It started with a tickle, a gentle scratch in her lower abdomen, like the whisper of a feather. The system's text chimed in, as though timed with her first squirm.

Reminder: Primary Objective: Pleasure Nurse Eswen

She bit her lip, the soft flesh mashing against her teeth. The itch grew, a slow burn creeping from her pelvis to the base of her spine.

Her fingers dug into the mattress, the fabric bunching under her clenched hands. Darkness pressed in around her, the only sound the steady hum of the system's text scrolling. Mira's breath quickened as the itch intensified, her body betraying her with the faintest moisture between her legs. She turned onto her side, pressing her thighs together only to have the sensation spike, a white-hot flare that left her gasping.

A soft whimper escaped her lips, her face burying into the pillow. The system's next message flashed like a slap:

Penalty A: Manual Clitoris Stimulation for 10 Minutes

Penalty B: Automatic Clitoris Stimulation for 1 Hour.

Mira's small body tensed, the sheets beneath her damp with sweat. The system's penalties loomed over her, their cold, unyielding words forcing her to confront the reality of her situation. She had threatened to resist, to withstand the system's relentless pressure, but now, faced with the choice, she felt the weight of her resolve crumbling.

Her fingers dug into the mattress, the fabric bunching under her clenched hands as she bit her lip.

The option to choose Penalty A, manual stimulation for 10 minutes, seemed the lesser evil. It was short, finite, and she could endure it. The alternative, Penalty B, automatic stimulation for an hour, filled her with dread. The thought of an hour-long ordeal was unbearable, and Mira understood the importance of minimizing her suffering.

The system, despite her hatred for it, was infallible. She couldn't resist the system. It has been her third day defying the primary objective and each day, the penalty grew harder and harder to fulfill. The previous automatic clitoris stimulation lasted for 20 minutes. Now the duration has been raised to an hour.

With a deep breath, she made her decision. She would choose Penalty A, enduring the humiliation for a brief, though what felt like an eternal, period. Her small hand trembled as it reached for the system's interface, her fingers hovering over the selection.

The moment her choice was made, the system immediately responded. The room was bathed in a soft, blue light, and Mira felt a strange sensation wash over her. The itching, which had been a constant, maddening presence, intensified, becoming almost unbearable.

Mira closed her eyes, her face pressed into the pillow as she fought to maintain control. Her body responded involuntarily, her hips shifting, her legs parting slightly. The system's voice, calm and detached, guided her through the process, instructing her on how to stimulate herself.

She curled her knees to her chest, her hands instinctively moving to the source of the discomfort. The first touch sent a shock through her small frame, her mind reeling as her fingers made contact with a part of herself.

Her small, trembling fingers hovered, then pressed gently, as if testing the waters. The plush softness surprised her, the sensitivity so acute that even the lightest touch sent shivers coursing through her body. The system's next prompt followed almost instantly: Insert Index and Middle Finger, Gently Rotate.

Mira hesitated for just a moment before slipping two fingers into the dampness, her mind warring with the actions her body compelled her to perform.

The sensations were overwhelming, a mix of discomfort and a strange, pulsing pleasure. The system's guidance continued, relentless in its instructions, as Mira's small body reacted involuntarily. Each command chipped at her resolve, the itch intensifying until she could only focus on complying, her thoughts narrowing to the singular goal of relief.

Mira's slender fingers trembled faintly, the system's glowing text casting an eerie light on her tear-streaked face. The instructions blinked steadily, urging her to continue her task with meticulous precision. Each word on the screen was a command, a directive that left no room for interpretation, guiding her through every movement with unyielding thoroughness.

"Angle your wrist slightly," the system instructed, its voice calm and detached. "Ensure your fingers apply gentle pressure against the anterior wall."

Mira hesitated for a moment, her breath catching in her throat. The words painted a vivid picture she couldn't ignore, her mind struggling to reconcile the intimacy of the act with the clinical nature of the system's commands. Despite her conflicting emotions, she complied, her small hand adjusting its position as instructed.

The system's next command flashed on the screen: "Increase pressure by 30% and establish a steady rhythm." Mira's fingers obeyed, her movements becoming more deliberate, more insistent. Each stroke elicited a response from her body, sensations she couldn't fully understand but couldn't deny.

Perspiration beaded on her temples, her golden hair sticking to her face as she worked to follow the system's instructions. The text continued to scroll, guiding her through every subtle movement, every variation in pressure and speed. "Reduce speed to 3 repetitions per second," the system directed. "Focus on circular motions with your fingertips."

Mira's breathing quickened, her small frame tensing with anticipation. Her fingers danced according to the system's commands, each touch sending waves of conflicting emotions through her. The system's voice remained steady, unrelenting in its guidance, pushing her closer to the climax it had ordained.

"Apply additional pressure," the system instructed, its words precise and unyielding. "Focus on the area 1.5 centimeters to the left of your current position."

Mira's compliance was immediate, her fingers shifting as directed. The result was instantaneous— a surge of sensations that left her gasping, her body arching slightly off the bed. Her hands moved with a life of their own now, driven by the system's relentless commands and her own body's responses.

The system's text continued to guide her, each instruction leading her closer to the inevitable. Mira's resistance crumbled with each passing moment, her actions becoming more urgent, more insistent. The system's voice was her only guide, pushing her through the storm of sensations with unflinching precision.

"Haah…"

Mira's small body tensed, her fingers moving with a rhythm she couldn't fully understand. Her body responded with an intensity that belied her physical age. The sensations built up, a mix of pleasure and confusion that left her breathless.

Her small frame arched slightly off the bed, her golden hair spread out in disarray around her.

"Hnghhkk…!!"

The sensations grew stronger, each movement of her fingers sending waves through her body. The system's voice continued to guide her, pushing her closer to the climax it had orchestrated. Mira's hands moved faster, her touch becoming more insistent as the pressure built.

"Guhha…!!!"

Suddenly, a burst of warmth flooded through her, a release so powerful that it left her trembling. Mira's body convulsed, her fingers still moving as the sensations overwhelmed her. The bed beneath her grew damp, drenched to the intensity of her climax.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Mira lay still, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. The system's glow softened, its text ceasing as it acknowledged the completion of its directive. Mira's face was flush, her small hands still resting where they had been guided.

As the last shudders of pleasure faded, Mira lay motionless, her breath slowing as the reality of her actions sank in. The system's glow, now dim and unassuming, seemed to mock her with its silence. She had complied, but at what cost? The teachings she once held sacred, the dignity she once cherished, all eroded by the system's relentless demands.

Mira's small hands rested listlessly on her stomach, her mind reeling with the weight of her submission. The system, ever vigilant, broke the silence with the same directive:

[Pleasure Nurse Eswen.]

The text flashed insistently, its words a blunt reminder of the growing pressure to comply with the system's next demand. Mira's stomach churned at the thought of confronting Nurse Eswen.

The system's next line tightened around her heart like a vice:

[Warning! Next penalty will result in a 3-hour continuous masturbation session!]

The threat hung in the air, its finality leaving no room for negotiation. The system had made it clear that defiance would be met with severity, and Mira knew from experience that it did not bluff. Her thoughts raced, her mind grappling with the looming deadline and the humiliating consequences of failure.

'What in the world am I supposed to do now…?'