Enthralled By Sleep

Pansexual hypno switch cis male. Minors DNI. Really. Say hello if you like my stories.

[enthralledbysleep]

I sometimes have a difficult time really understanding why some things make other people hot. Like why would misogyny and patriarchy interest obviously intelligent and independent women? Then this came to mind and I started re-reading it and my eyes glazed over and my breath got heavier and yes ok i get it now.

SCUM Manifesto : Solonas, Valerie : Free Download, Borrow, and Streaming : Internet Archive

From the collections of the Sparrows' Nest Library and Archive. SCUM Manifesto Authors: Solonas, Valerie Published by Phoenix Press and AIM.

[enthralledbysleep]

Shauna

One time when I was young I was over at a friend's house and this girl was there that I had been into for a long time. I was pretty surprised when I made a move on her and she responded and we made out. She became extremely aggressive with me and pushed me down on my back even tho she was way smaller than me. It had not yet fully registered to me that I was submissive, but this night--the light came on. She was biting me hard and hurting me with her fingernails and giving me really dark hickeys visible all over my neck and all down my chest--lots of them, a disturbing number of hickies.. and they really hurt but I just sat there and took it-- moaning in pleasure. They were there for a week and I had to endure a lot of teasing and embarrassment.

Thats really the whole story. Nothing else ever happened between us. I'm not sure if she was enacting some sort of transferred revenge , whether she was a sadist, just bored...or all of them? And I will never know. She has been living up in my head ever since, decades later.

Thanks for that small awakening, Shauna.

[hypnogeek]

It feels so much better to just goon into trance

[enthralledbysleep]

i wish the word "goon" wasnt present here, still...

[enthralledbysleep]

I feel like there needs to be more appreciation of the Bene Gesserit in the hypnofetish world. I mean, The Voice? Come on its like the hottest thing ever put to paper or film!

[enthralledbysleep]

The Final Interview Panel

A prequel for a previous story featuring our hero, Mariana. https://www.tumblr.com/enthralledbysleep/824053320194850816/the-article?source=share

Mariana had been looking for a corporate management position for months. She had nearly a decade’s experience running operations for several firms and had been through several sets of multi-round interviews with this company and this final one was supposed to be a live test of her abilities in a simulated office environment. 

She arrived in the lobby and was greeted by a female staff member who wore a sharp suit of a very subtle and fine pearl gray summer weight worsted wool. It looked very expensive. As she walked around she noted with some wonder that every employee in the building seemed to be wearing outfits of the exact same material. “I love your suit…can I ask…”, she glanced over at a man walking by, “…is this some sort of uniform that you wear here or…?” “Well", her host answered, “Its like any job, you have to give up a little bit of individuality to be folded into the business unit. Isn’t that true for all of us?” She glanced down at the tablet that contained Mariana’s information and which job she was applying for, blanched slightly, then glanced sharply back up at her. “Some more than others… Well lets get you started now.”

Mariana sat alone in a room at desk containing four or five computer screens in a typically furnished corporate office. Around her were other bits of AV equipment and other items used in firm operations. A queue of simulated requests came in for her in a task manager program, and she attempted to field each of them to the best of her ability, finding resources and linking them to the requests. There was something odd about the language in many of the requests and it almost seemed as though there was a thread or a pattern that ran through all of them, but she just didn’t have the time to sit and think about it—as the requests and problems kept coming in she read through them, prioritized them and fielded each. “Structural engineering reports foundation sinking.”

“Accounting subnet down, need network team stat”

“EA accept resumes from team R”

“Please advise software on new programming environments.”

These tasks and similar kept appearing, relentlessly in her queue. At some point during this process, as she became increasingly engrossed in her tasks, a faint humming had started at the edges of her hearing, and she could swear it gradually had gotten louder and more noticeable. Perhaps it was the AC unit in the building, but she could feel herself starting to grow mentally weary and it was becoming harder and harder to concentrate on her tasks. 

Finally, one popped up marked “Initiate critical internal Transformation”. She opened the thread and it prompted her to launch a video explaining the task. A new series of dynamic decorative panels was being installed in an executive suite— this area was used for relaxation purposes and was one place were senior management were able to unwind. This was right up her alley as she held an undergraduate degree in environmental design. On one computer screen before her was a set of sample panel designs that could be displayed on a much larger screen in front of her if she chose. 

She clicked through a number of them idly, noting the color choices and she mentally contrasted each with the current decor in the relaxation room. Most were rather safe and certainly calming but too bland. The purpose of a lounge such as this was not simply to provide relaxation but to revitalize and reawaken creativity in those using it.

One panel was entirely unlike the rest of them. It contained concentric purple, white and black rings in a retro, op-art style. She stopped and knew instantly that this was the correct choice. It contained just the balance of dynamic and restful elements she had been seeking. She brought it up on the larger screen before her, and then frowned slightly as a new link appeared. It read, “Initiate metamorphic sequence”. What was this? She hesitated for a moment but curiosity overrode caution and she clicked the link. 

Immediately the pattern began to move, the centermost circle in the series appeared to emerge  and expand outwards while the outermost looked to move in towards the center. Her eyes fixed on the motion and at first she worried that this pattern was too busy for the lounge, yet her eyes stayed locked on the movement. Part of her mind set about trying to resolve somehow the seeming contradiction between these contrary and impossible motions. Her shoulders slowly dropped and she felt them seem to melt down her back. The humming she had heard earlier surrounded her now, and was accompanied by a murmuring of many voices that matched the rhythm of the collapsing and expanding images that now paralyzed her body and halted her thoughts. Her mouth fell open, eyes wide, dilated and glassy. 

Unbeknownst to Mariana, another presence looked on remotely; perhaps nearby— perhaps a continent away.  A woman sat before a screen watching Mariana descend into her mindless stupor.  She was big, beautiful, and carried an imperious air of authority.  Her skin was the color of milk chocolate; she had big round brown eyes; lush, soft hair and lips. Every part of her was thick, soft, and lovely—large breasts, wide round hips, thighs, and soft, glossy-black curly hair. As she watched Mariana her breath thickened slightly; her hand slid down and began to caress the baby soft skin on her inner thigh as she watched Mariana stumble headlong into the trap that had been set for her. 

She immediately sent a DM to the team whose only purpose was to watch for incoming messages from her, the unquestioned leader of this organization. The DM consisted of a terse instruction: “This one. Activate the team.” She logged off and slid her hand into her underwear, right to her clit, and she began rubbing in slow circles, moaning slightly. 

Thanks again to @hypnosenace for the inspiration

[gwm247]

Wendy Chū Í Chiéh (wendychu_ifbbpro)

[enthralledbysleep]

um...is this hypnosis and muscle femme in one place?????

[enthralledbysleep]

Empty bus. I walk in and sit directly across from you, staring at you with glassy eyes. I take out a box of pencils and a sharpener and sharpen each of them, one by one, all the way down to the nib and then toss them on the floor.

[enthralledbysleep]

I have really been loving writing mc/hypno fiction, especially writing femdom stories but I'm having lots of horny gay thoughts at 2am laying awake. I really really need more cock in my...stories.

[enthralledbysleep]

Warning: Non-Consensual depictions.

Sweat ran into Alma’s eyes and she leaned over and reached for her towel. As she wiped it away and leaned back she saw just the thing she had been looking for. He was standing at the desk talking to the attendant— about 5’9”, very slightly shorter than her with a tight swimmers build;  lithe, toned arms and legs and a muscular, round ass. His face was handsome and open, with the a sense of social comfort that good looking white men took for granted. She looked closer. His pretty, soft eyes betrayed him as he glanced over at her. She saw weakness there, and it made her pussy throb. “I am going to destroy you” she mouthed to him silently, squirming a little in anticipation. 

After she had showered and changed she went up to the desk and smiled at the attendant and described him to him. She said she knew him from college but his name was eluding her. The attendant grinned back, “Oh sure, um…he’s still here working out in the other room, he moved his hand over to an ID card sitting on the desk and gave her the name. She glanced down at the card and quickly read and memorized  the address. “Oh right! Thank you so much, I would have been so embarrassed if I ran into him and couldn’t remember his name!”. “I have you”, she thought to herself. 

When he arrived for their date she was already there, waiting for him. A look of recognition crossed his face as and he said “Oh, wait… I know you, you go to my gym, don’t you?” “No, that is impossible.” She replied. “I live clear across town, you have never seen me before in your life.” A look of confusion crossed his face. “Oh, geez I could have sw…“ But she interrupted him “You could have what? I told you you have never seen me before!” His face flushed a deep red, “Oh I am really sorry, I must have mixed you up with…” Again she didn’t let him finish, letting a consoling smile cross her face “Oh, that is ok, don’t worry about it at all. It is easy to get confused and make a mistake when you first meet someone. While she was saying this she put her hand on his bare arm and softly caressed it once just briefly, holding his eye contact. He gave a small sharp intake of breath, then broke the eye contact, blushing harder now and looking confused and unsure but also he relaxed slightly and exhaled a very slight sigh of relief. She watched and smiled to herself. 

He looked up and started to motion to the waiter. “Why don’t we sit down, I got us a table already” she said, and gently placed her hand on his back and guided him over to the table that she had selected for him. He was looking unsettled again— knocked off kilter. He had always been a popular guy, in school everyone liked him, he got decent enough grades, he had average intelligence and an easygoing manner that easily won those around him to his side. He also had been brought up by his parents to be a “gentleman”.  This training had rendered it impossible for him to fully regard women as agents in their own right. He learned to hold doors and be polite to girls and women and this training had started at an early age. He wanted to be nice, to avoid conflict, he was used to things just going smoothly around him and her behavior was so unfamiliar that he was vacillating between irritation and confusion, but also there were faint stirrings of something else in him, a hint of lust for her: something that the other feelings blocked out, but it was there, just below the surface. 

Alma perceived this very quickly and began exploiting everything that she saw before her. When they reached the table she quickly pulled out a chair and motioned for him to sit down, he goggled for a second and said, “Geez, usually I…” “You what? You usually don’t think women can sit down by themselves??” His faced flushed red now with anger, but still he sat down. She saw this and decided to redirect this energy quickly. When she finished seating him she allowed her breast to brush softly against his exposed arm. She heard the tiny intake of breath again, as she turned and moved back to her seat. Her toned ass was spectacular in a somewhat tight, fitted skirt and she allowed him a very brief look at its hypnotic movement. When she turned to sit she caught the inflamed hunger in his eyes and she licked her lips.

It was a casual restaurant and she wore a white fitted sleeveless shirt that showed off her medium sized tits and just a little bit of cleavage. She was wearing a pair of black stockings with garters under the skirt, and no panties. It made her feel fucking savage, not that he knew this, not yet. The outfit overall was tasteful but gave off by design a very subtle aura of authority, just enough to speak to the subconscious part of this mind. The part that she knew was sitting up and listening to her right now, while his conscious mind struggled with anger, desire, and confusion. 

She smiled, leaned forward slightly and said “So, tell me what you do?” He relaxed a bit, back in familiar territory. “Well I have worked for awhile in Coporate Development in a firm…” she immediately stopped listening to his idiotic drivel and just held eye contact with him, until he started to look a little uncomfortable again and broke the gaze. His gaze now drifted down to the front of her as he talked. She let him drone on for a little while and caught bits and pieces,  “…downsized last year and I finished up there in May…” His face betrayed his feelings of insecurity, being jobless and on a first date with someone. She licked her lips again. “I have a recruiter actively…” His eyes were still taking in her breasts. Sharply, she interrupted him, “My eyes are up here.” He sputtered, “Oh…god, I’m such an idiot… I’m…I’m so sor…” She cut him off again and allowed her stern look to become a forgiving smile. “Oh that is ok, I understand, you must feel really awkward here telling me all this sad news about yourself.” She reached out and caressed his hand, but allowed a firmness to return to her voice, a sardonic smile on her face: “But you need to learn to respect me, do you think you can handle that?” “Y…Yes I am really sorry, I will try to be more respectful”. “Oh I like that, she let her smile turn a bit more feral and made eye contact with him again, bringing her high heeled foot up to his leg and caressing it a little bit, just barely grazing him with the heel, so he knew it was there. 

Three months later he lay down there in his place at the foot of her bed--down on the floor. He was monitoring, listening in case she stirred. He was naked and he shivered slightly in the air conditioning. He wasn’t allowed to wear clothing inside the house and she kept his outfit safely locked away for the very rare occasion he was permitted to go into the world. He did sleep, but only lightly because her needs were his world. He looked down at his stomach and saw where with a sharp razor she had deeply cut her Name. ALMA. The wound had taken some time to heal but now it was better and it comforted him. It reminded him.

Sometimes his mind would start to drift back to his former self, to that person's friends and family, but they no longer really stayed long. “No... they weren’t even real” he thought to himself, glancing back down at his jagged scar…he drifted back into his fitful, watchful sleep-- one ear always open in case her breathing shifted slightly. 

This story depicts a fantasy NC scenario. This kind of abuse is common. It is most commonly perpetrated by men upon women, or men upon other men, or parents upon children, or the rich and powerful on the poor and oppressed.... It is in fact awful and not at all sexy IRL, and if you see aspects of your real, non kink life in this story, in either role, please reflect and change your behavior, right now. Get help-- Overthrow capitalism.

Having said that, these kinds of mind games and the entrapment and deliberately induced Stockholm's makes me so hot...

[hypnosenace]

[enthralledbysleep]

I am supposed to be working right now but this is so cool to just look at. I mean look at how it keeps changing and spinning like that. Doesn't it make you wonder what might happen next? Doesn't it create a sense of expectation in your mind-- almost an anticipation that some kind of change is coming for you? Maybe somewhere in the back of your mind or maybe even consciously you know what is coming next I'd wager? One word. A word will be spoken, and you will....you WILL... *Drop*

[enthralledbysleep]

Earlier I was in a meeting with a stunningly beautiful, elegant, very much cis woman with long dark hair, radiant face, perfect outfit. The epitome of high femme. I found myself trying to imagine a bulge in her skirt when I took some furtive glances...

You people are corrupting me. Thank you.

[enthralledbysleep]

The Article

Mariana got home from work and sighed as she turned the lock on her front door. She had the mail in her hands and was flipping through it as she entered her place. Suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she realized something was very, very wrong. "¡Madre mía!" She shouted as she dropped her mail on the floor. One whole room in her place was entirely empty, all the furniture was gone, all the floor coverings and pictures were gone. All that remained was six blank matte white surfaces that did not appear to be made of any ordinary building materials. On what used to be the floor was a single object: a soft, deep black rubber pad about 3 foot square. That was all. 

As she stood there, her mouth open trying to understand what had happened, the surface before her suddenly lit up brightly with a colorful and complex pattern of spirals within spirals within spirals that turned and turned. The spirals captured her eyes, which grew very wide, her pupils dilated and her mouth fell open a little wider while her entire body began to sag and droop. She wanted to pull her eyes away from one spiral, but then the spiral next to it would catch them and pull them back in again. She would try and pull her eyes out of the pattern, but could only manage to move her eyes across two or three spirals before she lost the fight and fell back in again, deep. A droning voice spoke: “Kneel.” She knelt down before the spinning spirals. “Look.” She looked and felt numbness begin to descend from the top of her head, moving downwards. Suddenly a bolt of fear made her start. She knew she had to try to escape, she didn’t know what was happening but her animal instincts kicked in and so she finally managed to avert her eyes to the left and she stood up looking over away from the wall of spirals.

The surface she had turned to now sprung to life with the same spinning pattern she had seen on the first one. Again she turned and once again the pattern emerged in that direction, drawing her back. Soon every surface including the floor was a spinning mass of spirals, trapping her, surrounding her, overwhelming her. But Mariana was strong, very strong—and would never go down without a fight. She tightly shut her eyes and stood up, blinded, arms outstretched, shaking, desperately trying to locate a wall to guide herself back to the door. Just as her searching hands nearly reached a place of escape a loud set of drones in various tonal colors sounded throughout the room; enclosing her--matching perfectly the overwhelming visual onslaught that had driven itself into her eyes. Her hands fell to her sides, her eyes opened back up again, caught by the dazzling, swirling mass before her. She slumped down, eyes wide-- captured and obedient. “Strip and kneel”. She removed her clothing and sank down to her knees on the black rubber pad. A look of utter bliss and devotion fell across her features. She looked, and looked and looked. 

When the powerful neurological sensors that had been installed in the room detected the correctly calibrated and permanently transformed  brain activity in the kneeling object within, the room began to speak, to instruct, to instill and to program it to a predetermined set of parameters. It began to repeat back certain words and phrases that were being imprinted on its empty mind. Its new phrases were very few, as very very few would be required. 

When the technicians came to collect it and found it still kneeling, naked on the floor, they assessed it's condition. It wore a look of utter bliss and contentment on its face. It kept repeating “Yes miss, very good miss.” over and over again softly to itself.  One of them looked it up and down, whistled softly and said. “The Client is going to be very happy with her new possession.” The two of them felt relief because this was a very powerful Client indeed, and She was not one who suffered fools who disappointed her. They clothed and led the new article out to the waiting van, to its new existence. 

Thanks to @hypnosenace for the inspiration...

[mommydgaf]

chasing you around the house with a knife as foreplay

[enthralledbysleep]

This one here, she gets it.

[hypnosenace]

[enthralledbysleep]

Sister Anne stepped from the rear door of the convent to carry trash to the receptacle in back. As she turned a corner she felt herself seized from behind by powerful hands; a brute's hard cock pressed hard against her ass, making her weak. Now a chloroform soaked rag was pressed down tight over her admittedly beautiful but unadorned face. "Just let it happen, that it. Just breath it in. Gooood. Theeere you go." Her feeble struggles waned, her vision narrowed, and finally her body went limp. 

She awoke, stripped naked,  firmly strapped to four points of a complex heptagram symbol. Her hands were tightly bound above her head--her legs spread slightly. Smooth, black and red leather anklets held her feet in place. She had not felt this exposed and vulnerable since she had entered the convent three years prior-- having narrowly escaped the clutches of a shadowy occult organization. She knew what lay in store for her now. A life of servitude to evil, to lust, to depravity, to corruption, to blood. 

An obscene, deep red, rhomboidal entity appeared in the air before her, drawing her focus, crushing her will. It throbbed in a low frequency drone perfectly timed with its complex pulsations. A voice spoke, inhuman and almost subsonic-- “YOUR NAME.” “My name is Sister Anne Catharine, of the Holy Catholic Church!”  “AGAIN. YOUR NAME.” She faltered slightly struggling to resist the lewd power of the horror towering before her-- “M..my name is Sister Anne Catharine of the Holy Catholic Church…” “AGAIN. YOUR NAME.” Steadily, relentlessly it stripped her down, layer by layer, calling her back to her true form, her natural form, her rightful form. Perhaps a minute passed; perhaps a day, then: “YOUR NAME.” “My name…my name is Lamashtu. I ride upon the stars. I am DEATH.” Her eyes glittered red in the pulsing lights. She was radiant, her body-- the naked body of a goddess--gleamed with sweat. Her tongue voluptuously caressed her dark red lips as the bounds that held her fell away and she went forth on the hunt, into the waiting night. 

Please repost. Corrupt them.

[enthralledbysleep]

A handsome likeable young man who isn't an overt sexist, who doesn't actively hate women, or wish or do them direct personal harm, but who can't see them as whole. He cannot fully see them as living agents in their own right because society has made certain that such seditious and dangerous ideas are very difficult for young men to internalize. Young men especially who are so used to being liked and to taking the lead that they have no idea how fragile this state of affairs is: this particular young man just doesn't know how fragile *he* is. She is aware of everything the moment She lays eyes on him. Yes, he is Her prey, and soon he won't even be sure of his own name without looking to Her for confirmation. Her eyes narrow and She closes in...

I explored this story further HERE

[enthralledbysleep]

I don't have to hide anymore!

I just had a talk with my partner of many years. It was the most wonderful talk we have ever had together, and possibly the best talk I have ever had with anyone. I won’t be an over-sharin’ Karen like I usually am, but the end result is that I reaffirmed my own self as a pansexual, polysexual, polyamorous being with needs, and they came out to me as an asexual, very romantic being with needs, and I am now in a very very loving and transformed relationship with an asexual person, they get to be a cute soft cat and have a cat daddy who will pet them till they fall asleep, and I get to go rail and get railed and top and get topped by, and get crushes on, and flirt with, and fall asleep with-- whoever I want to for the first time in years and years and years. I am so so happy. No more hiding and pretending to be someone I have never been.  My partner is shining.

I’ve only been on here for a short time but you freaks have helped me so so much, more than you could ever know and I love you all. No really. Thank you. 

Thanks to @figs-and-cigs for the wonderful support.

[enthralledbysleep]

A better label for me would be panerotic. Its not just the fucking.