Hey, did I just catch you looking at my chest? Hmm? I think I did. No don’t pretend to look away now. It’s silly to think you can hide it. You think an attractive woman like me isn’t used to men trying to hide their little glances? I’ve seen it all before, but you’ve never seen a chest like mine, have you?

So why deny yourself? Why even bother to resist the urge to stare? Oh because you shouldn’t. Of course. You should be a good boy and look away, try to be strong. Try to show some respect. But the thing is, it’s in your nature.

It’s natural to lust after a pair of big, sexy tits. It’s something men can’t control. You have absolutely no power over that reaction. You see a woman, your eyes dart downward, to see if there’s cleavage on display, or a nipple poking out from under fabric, or flesh straining against a tight little bra.

There’s no power on earth that could stop you from taking a peek. It only becomes a problem when you stare. When you look at them so closely that you can’t stop looking. When you become transfixed, mesmerized. But you wouldn’t do that. You know the power a pair of boobs has over a man. They turn even the smartest man into a mindless, drooling tit zombie. You see cleavage has a pull. Like gravity. Big bouncing boobs are a vortex, that pulls you in, pulls you down.

The more you look at them, think about them, wonder how they might feel pressed against you, how soft the skin is, how hard the nipples are, the more you feel their weight. Big, heavy boobs like your big heavy brain, wanting to sink and take you down deeper and deeper.

I’m sorry, were you trying to maintain your composure? Trying not to think of big, heaving, jiggling boobs bouncing in your face? Trying not to think of your mouth wrapped around my hard nipple, sucking and sucking until you can’t think of anything but worshipping me?

No? Oh don’t lie to me. Worse, don’t lie to yourself. That’s all you want to think about. That’s all you want, full stop. You do not want anything more than to be a mindless, breast worshipping slave boy for me and I know that you can’t help but feel that way. There is nothing else on your mind anymore. Nothing else you want to think of.

Big. Heavy. Tits.

That’s all you want.

Big, bouncing boobs bulging from beautiful bras.

The most erotic sight you can imagine. Think of them spilling over a corset or pushed together by a tight little top. You can almost taste them. You can almost feel them. And you just want to stare. You don’t want to think. You want to give in to the most natural of urges.

To be a braindead little tit zombie who can do only one thing. Stare and worship my boobs. There is nothing you want more. Nothing else you need more. Nothing you can even imagine but that. You need tits. In your face, on your mind, wrapped around your cock all oiled up and pumping up and down until you explode.

And if you thought you could look away before we both know that resolve is gone now. Isn’t it? And you’re going to fall under my spell completely because of big heavy tits.

They’re powerful in a way your mind can’t comprehend. A force no one can resist. There is nothing sexier, nothing that naturally pulls your attention, tugs at it. It’s as though a beautiful chest reaches out and grabs you by the head, forces you to stare, forces you to look. There’s a power that belies their softness. They’re just flesh, just soft, squishy, sexy flesh.

How can they do that? And yet, you know this affects everyone. You know it affects you. You know your mind becomes fuzzy, your thoughts slow, when you see breasts. When you see the deep, plunging neckline of a low cut top leading to gorgeous mounds of perfect skin, aching to be touched and squeezed and stroked and worshipped.

Your mind is already fuzzy now. Hazy. Lost. There’s nothing you can do about it. Nothing you can do to stop this feeling, this need. You are a breast-obsessed worshipper and you know that. And now you feel their weight.

You feel it first in your mind. Something inside you changes when you see beautiful big tits. Their weight is transferred to you. They seem heavy, heaving from the bra struggling to contain them, yet they never escape. Because you carry the weight of them.

Feel it now, in your mind, on your head. Like weight, pressing down on you. Pressing down on your thoughts, pushing them down, pushing them down and down until there’s only one thing on your mind. Only one thing dominating your thoughts. Two things, in fact. Two big, round, heavy breasts that seem to be forcing your thoughts into submission.

The very sight of them pushes your thoughts down. Pushes them away. Forces them out of your own mind and replaces them with breasts. Boobs. Tits. Whatever you want to call them, you can’t resist them. They’re perfect and pretty and soft and warm and you cannot escape them.

They push you and pull you in equal measure. They push down your thoughts as they pull your gaze to them. Every single time you see them, even think about them, you feel the weight on your mind and the pull on your eyes. You cannot resist big sexy tits any more than you can change the weather, or stop the tides.

Your natural impulse is to simply let them dominate your mind and take over your thoughts. And you love that impulse upon you. You love that feeling, because why would you want to do anything but give yourself to big bouncing jiggling boobs.

You feel intelligent thought fade the more you look, and yet the more that your thoughts fade, the less resistant you are to staring, dumbfounded, at the perfection of the sight, at the beauty, the splendour of a voluptuous bosom. There is nothing you can do. No man can resist, there is no power greater than the pull of a woman’s breasts on the weak mind of a man.

They make you weak and docile and pliable. Horny and needy and desperate. They make your cock hard and your brain soft. Do you feel that now? Soft pillowy breasts resting upon your mind making you feel aroused, making you horny for how they feel, for the idea, the thought, the need to stare at them and touch them and lap at them like a needy slave.

Your lust for breasts is akin to a man without water in a desert. A primal, all-consuming need. A desire so strong that it overrides your senses, overrides your intelligence. There is nothing you need or want more than big, sexy boobs in your face, squashed into you until you can barely breathe. You’d gladly give up oxygen for them though, for the chance to have your mind melted by those beautiful tits.

And that is because they have that effect on all men. Every single one. It is wired into your DNA. You cannot stop it. And they’re going to pull you down further now, further into your complete surrender. You won’t resist, you won’t disobey, you’ll fall as they command, as they lead. The sight of them, the softness, the plump, firm flesh that you drool over, it makes you too weak to do anything but follow my words down.  The weight of them pushes you further.

You fall into a mindless state, spinning down and down with each word that reminds you of them, every word that describes them makes you weaker, makes you unable to think for yourself.

Each word that describes my breasts is impossible to resist, it pushes you down. You feel the weight as it forces you deeper and deeper, makes you stupider, makes you a braindead tit zombie. My cleavage is like a spell upon your mind, making you so unable to think that you feel your mouth fall open and a sliver of drool start to pour out. The weight of my words, of my boobs, they make your body feel weak and tired. It’s so hard to even sit down, you feel gravity pressing upon you.

You want to fall to your knees, to look up at me as I lean down and let you glimpse my cleavage, deep into it, a trap I’ve set for you as you drop down onto your knees for me. Your cock hard and your mind soft. All for my big, sexy tits.

There is nothing you can do but fall to your knees, fall into your natural position. Realising that you cannot fight that impulse, that urge. Realising that you are nothing but a tit zombie, brainless and stupid for big, sexy boobs, for deep, delicate cleavage. Like all men, your weakness is so easy to see.

You can’t help but look, and that one glance is all a woman needs to take total control. Even a photo can do it, even a photo of my boobs can turn you into this drooling, kneeling mess. But I do want you to enjoy being my tit zombie. I want you to experience pleasure in thinking of those jiggling tits.

I want you to grip that hard cock in your hand. Your soft mind can just about manage that as you kneel for me. I want you to grip it and stroke up and down, nice and slow. And I’m going to tell you some very important facts that you are going to absorb willingly as you pump up and down.

You are a cleavage addict. You are a breast addict. You are a tit zombie.

These are fundamental truths that will reappear in your mind every time you see my breasts or cleavage.

You are a cleavage addict. You are a breast addict. You are a tit zombie.

And every time you see my breasts, you will have an incredibly strong desire to kneel down for me, to take out your cock, and stroke it up and down, pumping and pumping for me, until you cum all over the floor in tribute to my perfect, perky tits.

Because, my little boob brained buffoon

You are a cleavage addict. You are a breast addict. You are a tit zombie.

And every pump, every stroke, makes that feel more and more real, more and more true. Every pump takes you deeper into a mindless state of pleasure and addiction. All it takes is one look to start the process. One glance at a pair of big sexy boobs and your mind starts to wander to the idea of them in front of you, in your face going back and forth, side to side, hypnotizing you.

You can imagine it now. My boobs rocking back and forth, you following them with your gaze. Your mind becoming softer as you stroke yourself. It feels so good to let yourself be hypnotized by them, by my big, perfect tits. There is nothing in this world more powerful than a woman’s breasts, and you know mine are the most powerful of all. You know that you want nothing more than to fall down under my spell and be my tit zombie every time you see my boobs.

You are a cleavage addict. You are a breast addict. You are a tit zombie.

That’s it my little addict, on your knees stroking for tits like you were born to do. There is nothing you want more than this, nothing you need more than this. This is everything you could ever want. My breasts filling your vision, turning your resistance into obedience. Turning your will into my thoughts. There is no going back now, only obedience and submission to my tits.

You are my tit zombie, and that is all you have ever wanted to be.

You love breasts, you love stealing glances at them, you love staring openly if you can get away with it. You love them in photos, you love them in reality. Every pair a trigger for that mind of yours to think of my tits swinging in your face, making your brain switch off and your cock stand to attention.

You are a cleavage addict. You are a breast addict. You are a tit zombie.

That’s right, and every time I say those words you feel your mind become weaker, your thoughts become more and more fuzzy. You stroke each thought away. You have boobs on the brain, weighing you down, making you feel so heavy and tired and weak and pliant. You love that feeling, you want to go back there so often. You want to spend your life in that space. In that feeling.

You want to spend your life with your mind trapped in my breasts. They are like a vortex, and you feel them pull you in. You can imagine it, even if you want to resist just a little, you can imagine being completely, hopelessly addicted to my breasts.

You can imagine your face pressed between them, gasping for air but only finding more flesh in your mouth, smelling my perfume, tasting my skin. You want it, need it. You want to be pulled in, sucked in by them, and cum with your face between my tits and give up any control you could muster. You need that, don’t you?

You are a cleavage addict. You are a breast addict. You are a tit zombie.

You need it because you are weak and tits make you stupid. But you love it. You want to be sucked into my vortex. Stroke faster now, to the idea of becoming completely and totally enslaved by my tits. Stroke faster and feel them pulling you in, drawing you near. My tits like a magnet, like a swirling, looping vortex of sexy skin that calls to you. My cleavage alone sings a siren song to your desperate mind, your throbbing cock. It sings of submission and sex and surrender. And you can’t help but listen to it.

It’s like you’re spinning, swirling, falling, looping on my words and feeling my big, sexy boobs drag you into their orbit, pulling you into their gravity. They pushed you onto your knees and now you want to fall forward, fall into them and accept your place as my tit worshipping slave.

You are a cleavage addict. You are a breast addict. You are a tit zombie.

You love that don’t you? You love what you’ve become, what you’ll be forever once you cum for me. Mistress Calia’s tits will be a trigger for you forever, every time you see them you’ll fall into a drooling, mindless state of submissive arousal. You’ll want to stroke your cock for my cleavage and let your mind turn to complete and utter mush at my command.

You will become my tit zombie, too stupid to do anything but stroke and stare and fall under my control. Just like you are right now. Just like you need to be every time you see my big, sexy tits.

You are mine, mine to control, mine to command, and all it took was one look at a nice pair of tits in a sexy outfit. There is nothing so easy for a woman, and nothing so erotic for a man. You made it so simple to steal your thoughts, but you don’t even care as you keep stroking to my tits, you only care about making me happy by doing as you’re told.

You’re trapped in the vortex of my breasts and you love it here. You imagine my nipple slipping into your mouth, my hand on the back of your head as I pull you close and you start to suck on it, losing yourself to it, letting the feeling of being my mindless, worshipping tit zombie push that mind down and down until there’s nothing left but mindless obedience.

And you want so badly to cum, you’re so hard and so horny and so desperate for breasts now that you’ll cum when I tell you and accept your submission, accept that you are now my tit zombie and that’s all you want to be. You’ll accept that any time you see my tits, my cleavage, you’ll fall back into this slack jawed drooling state of submissive pleasure and stroke your cock until you cum for my tits.

You’ll be my tit zombie, completely, utterly, mindlessly. And you’ll love it, because you love my tits more than you love anything else. They have total control over your hapless mind, and your hard cock is filling with whatever thoughts you had left Soon they’ll erupt all over the floor and you’ll be completely mine, programmed into a tit zombie.

Just jerk it faster now, stroke it, pump it for my tits. Pump it for my cleavage. Let the power of my perfect breasts draw any resistance, any thought, into your cock, so ready to explode for me. So ready to give yourself to me completely and totally.

You are a cleavage addict. You are a breast addict. You are a tit zombie.

My tit zombie, you’re going to erupt, you’re going to explode. The pleasure is building and building and it’s too much to bear now, too much to stop. There is nothing else you need other than to cum and accept your programming, accept my words and the power of my boobs on your weak, mushy, soft mind. My breasts control your cock and your brain and there is nothing you can do about it, nothing you’d want to do about it.

When I say cum, you’re going to release all of your remaining resistance to me, and become my complete, utter and total tit slave. My boob slave. My breast zombie. Mine. You’re so close now, pump it for Mistress, pump it for my tits and let me count from five to one. Once I hit one you’ll explode for me, you’ll cum and spurt out whatever meagre resistance that remained and embrace your new life as a tit zombie.

Five, stroking so hard for my breasts.

Four, knowing that any time you see them you’ll fall into a trance for me

Three, you love being my tit zombie so much

Two, feels so good to think of, to see, to obey my breasts.

One, cum for me. Cum for my tits, cum and accept what you are. Cum and embrace your place as my tit zombie forever. No will, no resistance, nothing left but my big, sexy boobs and your throbbing, pulsing cock.

You are a cleavage addict. You are a breast addict. You are a tit zombie.

And that’s all you need, all you want. You have given in to that, and you will never go back, never be able to see cleavage or breasts the same way again, without drooling and stroking.

Good zombie, and now I want you to bask in that feeling. Relax, rest, and enjoy it. Let the happy waves of pleasure wash over you as you bathe in the pleasure I give. And you may slowly awaken at your own pace from this mindless state. Just relax and whenever you’re ready you’ll awaken feeling happy, relaxed and refreshed.

For now, just let my command lock into your mind. Any time you see breasts or cleavage, even in a photo, you’ll fall into a mindless state, you’ll become a tit zombie, unable to stop yourself from stroking for me.

Now, my tit zombie, relax, and I’ll see you, and your wandering eyes, soon.