You relax and look forward to the idea of mindlessness and your brainwashing where others only see fear. You already are corrupted, let yourself feel better, let yourself get worse.
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You relax and look forward to the idea of mindlessness and your brainwashing where others only see fear. You already are corrupted, let yourself feel better, let yourself get worse.
Comedy Is Actually Easy--It's Thinking That's Hard
Peggy couldn't help it. It was just so funny. She couldn't explain what exactly she found so funny about it--it was just a tiny little clicking noise, made by a hand counter Joe held almost casually out in front of him--but every time she heard it, Peggy couldn't stop herself from giggling until her brains felt like they were swallowed up in tiny pink bubbles of absolute bliss. She let out peal after peal of helpless laughter, and every time she thought she was finally about to calm down Joe clicked the little lever again and she was utterly lost in hilarity once more. It would have been unnerving if it wasn't so, so funny to her now.
He was talking to her between clicks, telling her… telling her things, but Peggy was rapidly discovering that it was too hard to hold onto any thoughts when those waves of warm, happy mirth washed over her and through her and left her brain stunned in paroxysms of wild laughter. His words were nothing but sound in Peggy's ears, heard and accepted and instantly forgotten, and even when she found herself pulling her dress down to her waist to expose her pale pink breasts right out in the open just thirty feet above a public street all she could think about was how hilarious it was to show off her tits to anyone looking up at their balcony right now. She just could not stop laughing about how dumb and suggestible she was becoming, even though on some level she realized it should be alarming her.
By the time Joe began groping her, squeezing and fondling her tits with his free hand while he continued to work the clicker with metronomic regularity, Peggy was laughing so hard she had to cling to the railing to keep herself from simply sinking to the floor in waves of helpless amusement. Her giggles were changing tone and character, too, becoming less like her usual sardonic snorts of amusement and more like the high, breathy titters of a dumb slut in a burlesque show, and Peggy could easily imagine herself tottering out on stage to be the butt of every blonde joke the cast could come up with while they ogled her body like she was nothing more than a piece of meat. Even that was funny, too… but somehow every giggle seemed to go right down between her thighs and tickle her clit until it throbbed.
Combined with the little pink bubbles in her brain, that throb left Peggy so weak and wet that soon her grip on the railing slipped and she sagged onto the tiled balcony with her legs splayed in a pose of loose and drowsy kneeling. That seemed to suit Joe just fine, though, and he gently rubbed his crotch against her face so she could feel how hard he'd gotten under his pants--that stimulated a memory of sorts in Peggy's wobbly mind, devoid of context but filled with the emotional associations of just how good it felt to be dumb and happy and horny with a nice big cock right there waiting to pleasure her. She giggled wildly at just how much she wanted to be fucked right now, and just how stupid it was making her, and it was unsurprising that when Joe knotted his fingers in her hair and began to guide her with gentle tugs she found herself crawling right along with him into the bedroom. Because it was all so funny… and Peggy knew her arousal was funny because it was true.
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I think the best part of covert hypnosis is the way they’ll respond to you like it’s a regular conversation, asking questions, getting you to elaborate, totally unaware that you’ve already started bending their will to align with your own. The more buildup you give it, the less they’ll even realize what’s happening to them, up until they’re nice and mindless for you.
Slimes
Little story about slimes.
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Jade, an aspiring and plucky adventurer, stood before a cave.
This would be easy, she told herself. A low-level bounty. Just clearing a cave of some slimes. No problem, even for a first-timer like her. She knew all about slimes, she had her sword (a bit on the small side, but it was all she could afford), she was feeling brave - it was going to go great.
She told herself as much anyway.
Good fucktoys know that their best self is whatever pleases their owner the most. Trade your free will for their control. Become the best version of you. Agree and obey.
🖤 slamming my tendrils right down your ears, letting them coil around your brain before digging in further, rewiring you, making you mine, no more silly memories of anyone or anything else, just ME and that's all you need isn't it? Ah, I love that dumb little look on your face, so dazed and docile like a good bitch~ maybe if you ask nicely I'll give you a reward...oh wait, you can't speak can you? Well maybe if you behave I'll give that back now won't I~
You smirked at your hypnotist as they towered over you. Your eyes met theirs, but you shrugged off their words. “Just sink, and drift, and drop, toy.” They said. Your grin widened.
“You’re going to have to try harder than that today.” You said. You were resolute.
They weren’t going to bring you down so easily.
They smiled, leaning down over you. “Oh yeah? Are you sure about that?” they were very close to you. “Are you sure that I’m going to have to try? Or will you break, like a good little plaything?”
You tried to keep your eyes on theirs. But they were so close to you. Their presence felt so overwhelming. You broke eye contact, and they brought a hand to your chin, pulling your gaze back, immediately, effortlessly. Their smile widened. “That’s it. Just stare.”
They gave your chin a soft squeeze, and you felt your mind buckle. All those ideas of resisting were flitting away, drifting into nothingness, at their touch. It felt like their touch was draining you of energy, of willpower. You let out a soft noise, and they laughed.
“Is that it, toy? I just have to be a little firmer with you, and you can’t help but giving in? It’s okay. We both know how easy you are. How weak and blank and mindless I make you.” They pulled you closer, planting a kiss on your lips. “It’s okay. You’re mine. All mine.”
* * *
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You can also buy my book, Mesmorium, now, on Amazon, and Smashwords. It's an anthology of twelve tales of deliciously hot hypnosis and mind control. It's queer, and sexy as hell!
Just a fun little thing I made.
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Subtle paranoia that every thought, feeling, or impulse might be a hypnotic suggestion...
concept
You send me a “meditation/sleep” playlist. As I turn it on and drift off to sleep, I hear something odd. A quiet voice can be heard in the background of the file. Oh well.
As I drift off to sleep listening, I wake up in the middle of the night, undressed, sticky, horny, and feeling fuzzy. What happened? I reach for my phone and restart the file to try and get back to sleep.
As I drift back off to sleep I hear something odd. Oh well.
the dom being in a trance is underrated. someone being completely focused on you, nothing more important to them in that moment than what they want from you. they don't even have the capacity to think about anything else. it's like that post that's like, relentlessness is when you see a clear path to your goal and you don't care about anything except the perfection of it. what about when the mantra they're repeating isn't something about being submissive to you but how they need to be in control, or how cute you look, or something kind of menacing and creepy?
acting like an evil robot that's programmed to subdue you. acting like a zombie that has to bite you. acting like an animal being taken over by instinct. etc
Hypnovember Day 22: Betrayal
Her favorite part of resistance play was the little betrayals.
The way her eyes would blink when it was suggested even though she diligently tried to keep them open.
The hot tingle of pleasure that would go through her when he reminded her of how much she loved to be hypnotized.
The moments when her calculated actions became reactions- her subconscious betraying her so gradually that by the time he finally gave her permission to give in, there was no resistance left at all.
It had been all over the news: keep your windows closed and doors locked.
There was some kind of chemical in the air, a pink cloud spreading across the country. It was… effecting people.
It was poisonous? No. Unbreathable? No.
The news was being purposefully vague and it was infuriating. They made it sound like life or death and then didn’t explain what the symptoms of someone breathing it in were?
Ugh.
You sat huddled on the couch as your coworker went around checking every window and door was secured. It was a small enough office, and the break room was comfortable enough.
But when your coworker came back something seemed… wrong.
She’d been gone for longer than you’d hoped, she didn’t seem to rush to return to you.
The blank smile on her face. The blush on her cheeks. The way she swayed in place.
“Uh… are you okay?” You’d asked, mentally checking all exit routes of escape .
“Yeah… yeah… all good.” She’d said, sounding almost high.
Yeah. You had to get out of here.
“You… you sit… relax. I’ll keep watch.” She’d said before you could object. She sat down on the couch with you, rubbing your arm comfortingly.
Was she infected? She was acting strangely, sure, but she wasn’t attacking you. Or dying. Or doing much of anything except staring blankly ahead at the TV and moving her arm up and down your own.
You tried to breathe away from her, unsure if the smoke still lingered in her lungs. Her hands stroked your arm rhythmically up and down, occasionally moving round and round in spirals. You felt yourself relaxing, as hard as you tried not to.
You found it harder to think. Debating it in your mind. If she was infected, what would you do about it? You’re still trapped inside with her. And every second you spend debating it you found yourself wanting to stay more…
You noticed she was flushed, tugging at her clothes. She took off her jacket. Her other hand lazily drifted over her chest.
The room felt hot, stuffy all of a sudden. You tugged weakly at your shirt’s collar. Your vision was hazy, dreamlike even. When had her hand moved to your legs?
The smoke surrounded your mind like a blanket.
There was a moan. Whether it was hers, or yours, you were unsure. She was helping you undress. Kissing you. Pink smoke clouding your brain, slowing your thoughts, passing between your lips.
You hungrily breathed it in.
It was too stuffy in here, she had agreed.
Was it her idea or yours to open the window?
The smoke surrounded you both as you stumbled back together. You needed her.
The news droned on in the background, but you couldn’t listen.
Taking a deep breath, you let yourself sink completely.
Something about being so brainwashed that you’d mindlessly do anything as soon as you read your new text message from Them. At work or in public? No worries, you will find a place to serve. Gosh that idea gets me every time..
Good Girls Obey...
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