Petting psychotic furballs is fun!

Writer of filfth.  Can be found wrestling with words and trying to beat them into some sort of sensible shape.  Occasional rescurer of frogs and toads from storm drains. As this is an adult blog, 18+ only, please.  Will happily take comissions if you want your own custom slice of erotica. Message me for details.

[blankandhappy]

Alt-blog

Just in case there’s another Tumblr purge, or my page gets nuked, please feel free to follow Blankandhappytales for your non-imaged story needs!  I’ll eventually get everything written across to there, but that might take time because I’m going to have to dive through years of posts.   And probably do a fair amount of re-writing.   There’s always re-writing in the works.  😁

[soup-mother]

stop asking "why are strange women dressing me up and treating me like a doll?" and start thinking about how great this will look on your resume

[euniexenoblade]

Stop asking. Dolls don't speak, silly.

[blankandhappy]

Pft, as if there is any job after Doll...

[pinkofatom]

Yvonne follows the song

CW: corruption, bimbofication, monster girl, fantasy

Hi hi, this one has some D&D aspects

If you liked this story, please consider leaving a tip on my ko-fi

Enjoy 🩷

Yvonne paused beneath the twisting branches, breath catching in her throat. She tried to recall how she had even entered this forest, but her memory frayed like worn cloth — images half-glimpsed, moments dissolved into fog. The only thing that remained sharp, undeniable, was the voice. A beautiful voice, smooth and steady, threading through the trees as if the woods themselves whispered in harmony with it. Each syllable tugged at her, not just her ears but deeper, somewhere beneath thought, beneath reason.

Her boots sank into the mossy ground with measured steps, yet she did not feel in control of them. The path curled and bent in ways she could not follow with her mind, but her body obeyed without question. She should have been frightened. Instead, a strange calm settled in her chest, braided with an ache of longing.

The trees gave way to a cove, where dappled sunlight danced across crystal waters. But it was not the shimmering surface that caught Yvonne's gaze — it was the figure emerging from it.

The figure was naked and dripping wet, with pale skin that glittered in the sun like pearls, and her breasts were so large and heavy that they bobbed gently with each movement of her hips. Instead of legs a long scaled shark tail swished beneath surface.

As Yvonne neared the pool's edge, she felt compelled to move her hands, as if guided by strings attached to each finger. She undressed, stripping away her clothes, and waded into the water. The figure beckoned, the song never wavering, only growing in its intensity. Moving lips curled with malicious intent. And as Yvonne surrendered more to that song — so did her body begin to change.

Yvonne felt her breasts grow larger, her hips wider. Her lips, already plush and full, grew poutier as she gasped and groaned in bliss. Her hair grew longer, trailing down her back in silken locks that glistened in the light. Each verse sung felt like a thrust into her thrumming core.

Dazed, Yvonne registered the magic laced into the air. But rather than alarm her, it ignited in her nerves. She knew this is why she was in this maze-like forest in the first place. She wanted this! She'd always wanted this — right?

"Who?" Yvonne struggled to form words, but the creature in the waters continued to croon and sing and beckon with its eyes. Shimmering sigils danced around the pair. Yvonne thought she should know these symbols, had studied them as a sorceress. But all her thoughts revolved around one thing. Her desire.

So entranced was she to this magic, to the enchanting song of this mer-shark that the idea of drowning in it was suddenly an extremely pleasurable idea.

"I can't breathe," Yvonne mewled in pleasure. The beautiful shark figure, it's features so lovely, it's body a delicious temptation, held the young woman beneath the crystal pool, coaxing and singing.

But instead of water and desperation, the essence of this irresistible creature entered Yvonne. It filled her. It surged through her veins, pulsed in every muscle fiber. She gasped and arched. The transformation accelerated in her, her whole being vibrating in time to that ethereal music, until —

She erupted in pleasure.

Yvonne's head burst out of the surface of the water. Instead of raven locks, bleached blonde waves cascaded down vuloptuos curves. Her eyes were no longer storm grey, instead they glowed a bright sea green, reflecting the shimmering pool. A bright pink lipstick stretched wide across plush lips, the same shade that covered her full, curving nails. Yvonne panted and giggled.

"I'm so horny!" she shrieked, feeling herself in her entirety, marveling at the size of her huge breasts and her full hips and ass — oh fuck! It was amazing!

Glazed eyes locked onto her patron's form. "I'm Yvonne the Slut Warlock." She grinned, and the siren smiled back.

"Of course you are," said the beautiful creature with a wicked gleam in her eyes. The voice that escaped the siren's mouth, no longer sung or enchanted, was as silky as a caress, and Yvonne's breath hitched in her throat even without any magical spell attached. "All my little thralls are. It's so easy, you know. Sorcerers with natural talent often mistake it for skill and intelligence. But you won't anymore, will you, my little warlock?"

Yvonne shook her head in earnest. The idea of being anything else other than a vapid bimbo made her skin prickle unpleasantly. It simply seemed impossible.

"That's right. Because my little sluts have their mind and will and even magic molded to suit their only purpose." She circled around the blonde beauty, tail swishing and churning water, leaving Yvonne aching with anticipation and need. "Do you know what that purpose is?" The siren's voice lowered to a throaty growl.

"To use our charisma to spread the influence of our patron." The words flowed without inflection and understanding. They were just sounds strung together. And that made Yvonne happy. "Our magic will now only serve our patron."

The shark grinned, displaying pointed, wicked teeth, but it didn't make Yvonne flinch or shudder with anything other than desire.

"You can call me Mistress," purred the Siren in the slutty warlock's ear, and a thrill shot through Yvonne. "It's only proper."

"Yes Mistress," said Yvonne dutifully. "What can this warlock do for you, Mistress?" She looked at her curvaceous patron in a way she couldn't articulate. But that didn't matter. Her vapid little head was only there to store all of her mistress's wishes, her body an empty shell to be filled by whatever she wished.

"Show me how you will spread my control to others," her mistress ordered, voice sinfully low, and that primal need that throbbed inside of her welled up, spilled over, and Yvonne became filled to bursting. Her long-nailed fingers stroked over the slick surface of the crystal pool. The clear blue water rippled and shifted. Yvonne shaped the ripples and currents into complex symbols that glowed with bright purple. Lust pulsed in the air. The same lust she felt for her mistress. With rolling hips she stalked closer, each movement a feast for the eyes. And when her lips touched her Mistress's, a moan rose in the siren's throat.

The two figures writhed together in a wet, sinful embrace. Every curve pressed together, every inch of skin and scale touched.

As Yvonne explored her mistress's scaled and silken form, the Siren returned the embrace with equal fervor. Yvonne's hands roamed over her mistress' breasts. They were softer and more inviting than she'd imagined — not that her empty little head could conjure much beyond her mistress' perfection. But the feeling of the supple, plump mounds in her palms made her groan with delight, a soft rumbling of pleasure escaping from deep within her chest.

The Siren's scales were cool to the touch, and yet they radiated a warmth that seeped into Yvonne's flesh and sent shivers of anticipation rippling through her. It mixed into the spells she had called, charging the air with corroding submission. The thought, the image, made her heart flutter, her cunt clench. No longer did she need to project confidence or independence. No longer had she to study to support her meager talent.

Now, all she had to do was surrender and please her patron. It was the most simple contract: please and receive pleasure. Her pussy spasmed at the thought — gods, she was such a bimbo whore — selling her soul for this. Not that Yvonne recalled agreeing to any contract. But before the question really formed, her mistress' fingers possessively dug into her flesh.

She didn't even need to think. It wasn't what this beautiful brainless bimbo head was for.

Her mistress' fingers dug into the soft flesh of Yvonne's ass, gripping it with an intensity that sent shockwaves through the transformed warlock. Yvonne whimpered and bucked into her touch. Her pussy ached to be touched.

"Not yet," whispered her patron, "you haven't earned that yet." Her tongue caressed Yvonne's exposed nipples. Then teeth, those beautiful teeth, nibbled along the delicate skin. "You have to bring more morsels under my power, before you can cum. It's in our contract, dummy."

Her pussy spasmed. What a wonderful, wicked mistress she had. "Yes," she said. She moaned. "I'll bring so many." And the spell danced in her mind, ready to send out her slutty call. She knew the perfect place for it too.

That guild that brought her to mistress would make a wonderful temple.

[cyberdollprincess]

i'm just SAYING that SOMEONE shoud be completely reprogramming my brain to worship them as my Divine Creator

[laurentidal]

I came for the hypno, stayed for the nerd

I also cum for the hypno

[platinumpuppetss]

You need this

[secretlytranced]

i do

[leashed-nymph-deactivated202506]

[blankandhappy]

Emily clenched her jaws as the tentacle pressed to her lips, denying it entrance. Sticky, sweet smelling the colour of rose wine dripped from it's tip, onto her chin before stringing down onto her bare chest.

Moving was out of the question, the grabber tentacle was pressed to her spine, its legs wrapping around her with an iron tight embrace, lifting her off of the floor and pinning her arms to her side. Stinger tentacles were already lodged inside her fattening tits, the hormone laced aphrodisiacs forcing them to radiate pleasure as they were plumped up. Her clit and nipples were under assault from the suction tips attached to them, forcing her to orgasm and writhe even at the point of over-stimulation.

She guessed it was the nest's way to wear her down - to make every fiber of her body ache so she would have no choose but to surrender.

From the muffled moans and whimpers from the surrounding darkness, half her crew had already succumbed. The rest wouldn't be too far behind. If only Emily could hold onto her sense of self, she could warn the ship - warn the colony. No one would know that the returning science expeditionary crew would be carrying the seed of a new nest inside each of them. That they would be forced by instinct to find the dark, quiet parts of the colony to birth their eggs so a fresh nest would be spawned. Growing. Assimilating. Creating happy little worker drones out of the colonists, happy to worship their tentacle masters.

"Fuck you," Emily hissed as the tentacle tried for her mouth again, left confused and non-plussed by the non-compliant host refusing to let it put her to sleep.

Something much higher up unfurled itself from the ceiling, stretching down into view. The tentacle pulsed a bioluminescent galaxy of stars across it's surface, radiating waves and spirals as it approach Emily's head.

Her heart froze with horror.

Tentaclum hypnoticus... The Sleeper's Gift.

Emily had often suspect that individual tentacles were part of gestalt entity, and that the reports of individual tentacles were the product of freshly planted nests in their infancy, before specilisation could take place. Before the nest could adapt itself to the local flora and fauna, learning to infect the local ecosystem and turn it to the nest's advantage.

The co-oridination of the tentacles in her current predicament were too precise - too intelligent to be down to pure chance.

Shaking her head back and forth, she defied hypnoticus touch, making it impossible for it to grip onto her and begin the brainwashing proccess.

Somehow it sensed her - senses the defiance in her mind.

That would not do.

The nest needed her mind; needed her cunning. The other humans trusted her. Relied on her expertise. She would enable the new nest to enslave half the colony before anyone was aware of the corruption.

The grabber stretched up the back of her neck, curling around her skull. Fresh legs grow out of the side, restraining her into place. Forcing her still.

"No! Please!" Emily pleaded even as her full, heavy tits began to leak the same pink liquid, sending the tentacles latched onto them in a feeding frenzy.

Hypnoticus was deaf to her pleas, unable to listen or understand her human words. It simply unfurled itself around her head, gripping it gently as it attempted to pulse it's message deep into her brain.

Emily squeeze her eyes shut, trying to ignore the pretty patterns that bled through her eyelids. Tried to ignore the near constant edging that never allowed her to spill out into release. She had to hold on. As long as she kept her eyes closed, she would be fine. She would be-

She cried out as something sharp cracked across the bare skin of her butt, her eyes wide open in shock.

In...

In......

The swirling, pulsing lights of hypnoticus were wonderfully captivating, filling her mind up with empty, tingling pleasure. Her mind stalled, her thoughts frozen into place.

She didn't even resist as the by her mouth sensed the change in the host's disposition, splitting apart to seal her mouth as it lodged two small tendrils into her nose.

To put her to sleep.

To make her ready...

*** *** ***

They crept from the cave entrance, the six of them. Each of them carried their gift to the colony inside of them, ready to follow their new instincts and birth the new nests. One had been left behind - Mara. She had been left behind for the nest to experiment upon. To learn from. She would be releases - sooner or later. Once the Nest understood human psychology and had found the optimal way to subjugate it.

It would be a three day trip back in the crawler to the colony of Hope.

Long enough for them to learn to suppress the moans as the eggs inside of them twitched with new life.

Long enough for them to remember what it was to be human...

[another-hypno-toy]

I need to be hypnotized into an obedient whore who will give oral to anyone who asks. It doesn’t matter where, it doesn’t matter what gender. Turn me into an oral obsessed slut.

[nettleseeds-art]

Ill be honest its been fun to reshare old art and lean a bit more into my interest in hypnosis, but im seeing WAY more AI here than I was hoping

Ive even had people reaching out to connect as "artists", I look at their blog and its all AI. This after I had my own art butchered by someone generating thumbnails for their AI hypno videos and taking money for it. This after I've made my art freely available for years because its my hobby and passion to draw

This ain't it, yall. I dont mind reading your fun hypnoposting but slapping some slop in there only makes me scroll right past

[p0cket-watch]

Yeah...

Look, I hate to be normal on horny but Seeds is 100% correct. There is so much ai that the actual art is getting harder to find, and worst of all is that it's learning. I can't tell what I'm looking at sometimes, I just know if it's a pretty little white woman with tits smoother than my car it's generated. Hyperrealistic generated woman sucking dick. Hyperrealistic generated men giving it. Generated snake trying to get me. Generated evil doctor. Generated superhero in a rubber suit. Guys be honest, does it actually get you off or do you not care? Does knowing that the "artist" didn't really do anything not bother you at all? We're about to lose the ability to share this freaky kink together and this is how we wanna go out? Letting the computer imagine for us? Guys, please, the answer to reviving a dying art isn't ai slop, I promise. God we used to be a society I swear..

And listen I know this is rich coming from someone who doesn't post her own art all that often, but please I'm so serious can we please stop using ai in this community. Please just reblog from an artist it's good for you I promise.

[blankandhappy]

The thing with AI art is that it's too optimized. There's no representation of soul, no sign of an artist who has put thousands of hours of work into developing their own particular soul. Worse still, you know that the AI art you see is stolen, distilling billions of hours of our collective energy into an algorithm that will never understand the value of the knowledge it holds.

Is AI art fun? Sure. Is it cool? Sometimes it can be. Is it a stand-in for all the time, blood, sweat, and tears someone had to invest in their art to get good at the subject? Hell. No. Ultimately, it's a form of laziness - a shortcut people would rather take than put in the time needed to develop their artistic skills.

[shoebillstork]

Dungeon meshi is about taking care of yourself physically so you can be fucking insane at full capacity

[blankandhappy]

Whilst it might not officially be a representation of being neurospicy, it has enough neurospicy flavourings in the maincast to be adopted as a positive representation of neurodivirgent. I love the fact that it underlines that it's alright to be weird. You just need to find the right tribe to be weird alongside you.

[soooaudrey]

Hypnotize, Enthrall, Command, Control, Charm, Blind, Freeze, Blank, Empty, Program, Condition, Corrupt…so many different ways of making a mind obey.

[hunter-creature]

I can be trusted with your mind. Just give me a little control. I won't use it to bore my way into the core of your being. I would never slowly poison your will. I would only give you orders you'd love. They'd be such wonderful thoughts settling into your brain.

You'd make such a good thrall

[erogenousmind]

Resisting Resisting

Sara realized she had made a mistake.

She had told him that she really wanted to fight going into trance. And it was true that it felt so much better and she went so much deeper when she tried to resist him. That feeling of being beaten, of having her will dominated by the irresistible hypnotist who slowly, methodically stripped away her defenses. It was intoxicating. But he always had a way of manipulating Sara's desires. Of using them to train her. To form her into exactly what he wanted her to be. And he wanted her compliant. He wanted her eager. And so he let her fight in the way he allowed.

Sara was getting ready to start, steeling herself to put up a good, if hopeless, fight, when he grabbed her suddenly commanding her to drop deep. Holding her gently he began to move her body in small circles as his voice droned into her suggestible mind. They had developed such a deep rapport, he had so many triggers, and she had been conditioned to so much of what he was doing. His choice of words, his tone, even the way he touched her. Sara couldn't form the thought of resisting. She fell. Following his voice deeper and deeper, her thoughts fading away to nothing. There was only his voice and how good it felt to follow and how good it felt to give in...

And then she was up, staring into his eyes as he smiled at her. She opened her mouth to speak, to ask, but he spoke first. "Are you ready to resist?"

She paused for a moment, confused momentarily by the question. She was about to answer in the affirmative when another rapid pull on her arm and his sharp command, "Sleep!" sent her right back down.

Faster and deeper Sara melted away this time. Nothing prevented her from letting go completely as his voice urged her on. She was swallowed up by the wonderful serenity of trance, feeling her mind conform to that space, her familiar desires returning. Desires to surrender. To do as she was told. To slee-

Back up, Sara's eyes unable to look away from his. He held her gaze for a moment, letting her relish the feeling of his control. Of her helplessness. He smiled again. Gentle and warm. Inviting. The moment lingered and just when Sara was about to speak, "Sleep!" down she went again.

Down and up and down again he pulled her. Trance felt so wonderful every time he allowed it, and she felt less and less lucid every time he brought her back up. Even when she was awake, her thoughts felt slow. Jumbled. Her mind cried out for his guidance, for the structure he gave her.

Sara didn't know if she was up or down when he told her what was going to happen. "It's time to be a good girl and fight now, pet. Time for you to resist going into trance as much as you possibly can. You know you can't resist my suggestions. You know all you want to do in this space is to obey. And so you will. You will do as you are told and resist going into trance with every ounce of your strength. Until your will shatters and you succumb completely. Whether you want to or not. Coming back up for me now, following my words and my suggestions..."

He continued to bring her up, but Sara's thoughts were completely focused on the suggestion - the command - she had been given. She had to fight it now? Her mind already so melted and feeling her most submissive? When all she wanted to do was surrender and do whatever she was told? But she did have to do whatever she was told. She would obey. She could not resist.

And so Sara fought. She knew that even with his command bolstering her resistance, he could switch her off with a snap of his fingers if he chose to. But he took his time instead, speaking to her slowly guiding her thoughts lazily back toward trance. It felt so good to listen. It was so easy to follow along. How desperately she wanted him to claim her mind. How eagerly she would follow. But she resisted. Her mind warring with itself. And his words just made it harder.

"You are doing so well, keeping yourself up for me. I know how intoxicating my voice feels to you. How you've been trained in session after session to respond to it. How certain words automatically send you spiraling down. And you want so badly to sleep for me, don't you? To get to be my blank, mindless plaything again. But you are so obedient that you know you can't drop just yet. It is so much more important to do as you are told, even as your thoughts start to fail. Because so much of your energy, so much of your willpower has to be devoted to keeping yourself awake. To being so submissive and obedient. Even as my words coax more and more of your thoughts away. Even as they wear away your will..."

Sara needed to obey. She needed to be commanded. If she could relax for just a moment, that's all he would need. Just a moment's weakness and he would have her. She knew how easily she could be ensnared. How good it would feel. But his control over her mind wouldn't allow it. She had to keep fighting. She couldn't slip down and let herself feel so blank and obedient...because she needed to obey...she had to fight him...because she couldn't resist...

"And that just makes it harder and harder to think of anything at all. It was so much easier when you couldn't resist. You feel so much better when you can't resist, when I don't allow you to think about fighting. But you can feel yourself being broken. Feel the cracks at the edge of your awareness. All those little weaknesses showing through. And when you are broken, you drop so much deeper for me. There is nothing left to support your conscious, independent mind. When I break you, you are mine completely. And that's why you have no choice. That's why you have to resist. So that you lose all your resistance."

Sara needed to drop so badly now. She became aware that her eyes had been locked on his since they began. Even compelled to resist him, she couldn't think of looking away. She couldn't blink. Blinking would suggest sleep. Sleep would suggest surrender. And she had to fight. Tears were forming in her tired eyes. It was so hard to think on her own. He was speaking. She could just listen to his words. Let his words become her thoughts. His words were her thoughts.

She needed to resist. She needed to obey. Resistance meant obedience, and obedience meant pleasure. His eyes. It felt so good to lose herself in his eyes. She wanted to lose. She wanted to break for him. Sara needed him to break her. Break her mind. Break her will. She needed to listen. She didn't need to think. She needed to obey. She couldn't resist. She had to resist. She had to do what she was told. She was a good girl. Good girls obey. Good girls do as they are told. He told her to resist. She couldn't resist him. It was so hard to think. It was so easy to surrender. To blink, if only for a moment. Then she could lose. Then she couldn't fight anymore. If only she could give in. She wanted to give in. Wanted to give her mind to him completely, to let him be in control of her every thought. Every decision. But she had to fight. She had to resist because he commanded it. And he controlled her every thought. Her every decision...How could she resist him when it was him that made her resist? How could she think if he controlled her thoughts and commanded her to think. How could she think....how could she...thi...

Sara's eyes fluttered, still unable to close. Her mind shut down. Everything froze. Her mind cracked open. He spoke:

"You are broken."

"I am broken," Sara echoed. And she was.

"I control your resistance."

"You control my resistance." And he did.

"You cannot resist."

"I cannot resist." And she couldn't.

"You will not resist."

"I will not resist."

And she didn't

[nyanbinary-perineum]

Casually talking about how I am going to break you down and use you as a pretty set of holes and smirking when you start touching yourself to the thought of it.

:3c

[hypnopetlin]

Video game that hypnotizes you, the player, but the theme of the game isn't about hypnosis at all.

At first glance it looks like a normal videogame, but the sound and graphics are so satisfying, and some text calls you a good player whenever you win, and there's a very transparent spiral that as you play gets more visible, you'll be playing, finding it increasingly harder to concentrate, until you end up mindlessly touching yourself while staring

[artnpleasure]

[komorebigold]

Part 1 of ?

AAAAH! Babies first trans artist collab! Thank you @imstillalexcomic, @biblicallyaccuratemoth, and @alienbycomics

I wanted to make something like this because it's an easy way for us to share our experiences with people outside of like medical documents and obscure blog posts. Wait, this is a blog post. More coming soonish...