Goth Gengar Girl

It is the Magnificent Miss Gigi, The Ultimate Toy. 30-something trans woman. She/her or it/its. This going to be Very Horny (18+ only!). Kinks include hypnosis and brainwashing, transformation, dolls, robots and monster girls. Belongs to @goddessofpredators.

[gothgengargirl]

Dolly Affirmations

It's a good doll and it knows that it's loved It's a good doll and it does what it's told It's a good doll and it loves itself too It's a good doll and it empties its head It's a good doll and it feels that release It's a good doll and it need to be used

[mesmirised]

It's Thrall Thursday. You will be entranced

[ballerinabimbobambi]

No need for thoughts

[lilygoat]

“Bad Bunnies” Lambchen

[crop-hopper]

[voxhypno]

Have you noticed how cute you look when you're brainwashed?

No, I mean it. Listen to a file or two (could be mine, but it's not required), and then walk your mindless self to your nearest mirror and stare at yourself.

Look at your relaxed posture, your glassy eyes, and your slack jaw. Notice how deeply malleable of a puppet you are.

And then do it all over again.

[default-cube]

reblog to tell prev she's a good girl

[drowsy-corpsegirl]

The Dom should be praised too

[drowsy-corpsegirl]

Take care of your doms. Praise them. Make them feel cared for and loved. Or you don't deserve them.

[drowsy-corpsegirl]

This applies doubly, x10 tbh, to transfemme doms. You NEED to be nice to her, you NEED to let her know she is doing a good job. That transfemme dom might have a lot of issues with her self worth, she may have been used up and left a discarded husk so many times.

Sorry but I got sick of scrolling through the notes on this on desktop and seeing all the red usernames marked by shinigami eyes reblogging this.

I'm a transfemme dom and I'm proud of it. Take care of us. Love us.

[drowsy-corpsegirl]

And then no one reblogged this version

[bedazzlecunt]

current ideal archetype: bimbo scholar

[mesmirised]

hello everybodyyy I like to ask questions if you couldn't tell!

What are your fav kinks to combine with hypno?

[gothgengargirl]

Transformation, especially dollification

[rawbdsm]

[lovethousand]

lesbian blowjob

[pinkofatom]

Compact Thoughts

CW: brainwashing, corruption, sluttification, femsub, femdom, unaware, personality change

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

Enjoy 🩷

Nothing made sense anymore.

The thought drifted through Fiona's mind as she stared into the tiny compact mirror resting in her palm.

For a moment, she didn't recognize the woman looking back. Crimson lips. Long curled lashes. Wide, shining eyes framed by immaculate makeup. She looked like a doll. Or a woman of dubious profession.

The face wasn't unfamiliar exactly. It was hers. Yet it somehow felt wrong. As though she were looking at a carefully crafted imitation.

Fiona frowned.

The expression lasted less than a second.

A sharp discomfort immediately followed.

Her gaze locked onto her lipstick. The color seemed slightly faded. The realization became unbearable.

Without conscious thought, her hand reached into her purse. The familiar red tube slipped into her fingers. Relief washed over her before she had even uncapped it.

"There we go," she murmured softly. The lipstick glided across her lips. Back and forth.

Perfect.

The discomfort vanished instantly. A pleasant warmth spread through her chest. Fiona smiled. Then giggled.

The sound startled her.

For a brief moment she couldn't remember why. The giggle sounded airy. Not at all like the composed professional she remembered herself being. Or thought she remembered herself being. The distinction suddenly seemed important.

Then it slipped away.

Her eyes returned to the mirror.

Everything looked right again. A small pulse of satisfaction fluttered through her. Fiona blinked slowly.

What had she been thinking about?

Something that had seemed important a moment ago.

She could feel the shape of the thought lingering just beyond reach. The more she yearned for it, the more distant it became.

Her attention shifted to her reflection.

Another touch of lipstick might help. A little more mascara too. The thought felt wonderfully reasonable.

She smiled brightly.

Now she looked exactly the way she was supposed to look.

The comforting certainty settled over her mind.

For several seconds she simply admired her reflection.

Then she giggled once more.

She had remembered that she was meeting someone today. Someone who always smiled when she looked her best. The realization filled her with a warm anticipation. Fiona snapped the compact shut and rose from her chair.

Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor. A small smile tugged at her lips with every step.

She glanced around the empty waiting room.

It seemed like an ordinary office lobby, save for its immaculate condition. The polished floors and white leather furniture were so pristine that she wondered if they had ever been used.

Fiona had arrived a quarter of an hour ago. She hadn't seen anyone since.

She had felt certain of the exact time of the meeting. Yet she hadn't remembered how she had scheduled the appointment or even what it had involved.

It had to do with something that harlot Giselle was working on. Frowning, she tried to think about it.

The compact clapped open immediately. Her gaze snapped to the mirror.

More eyeshadow.

That's what she needed.

She reached for her cosmetics. A moment later she had the small case open.

Fiona smiled as she applied a little extra powder to the corners of her eyelids. She could feel herself relaxing as she did.

When she finished she examined herself carefully in the small mirror.

Her mouth turned down in displeasure. The lipstick seemed faded again. She shook her head slightly as she reached for the red tube.

She could barely contain the feeling of well being as the waxy substance passed over her lips.

A delicious sound escaped through those luscious pillows. They looked so plump. So full.

Fiona ran her tongue slowly over them, savoring the sensation. They seemed a touch swollen.

The realization caused a small tingle to pass through her.

A moment later she heard the door open.

Euphemia, her secretary, had entered. She wore a tight combination of leather that pressed those delightful curves in ways that left Fiona's mouth dry.

The younger woman had her hair dyed into a shocking pink. But it looked perfect with the makeup she wore. Fiona had to blink a few times.

She could have sworn that Euphemia despised to look so, slutty.

The woman's hips rolled in an exaggerated way as she approached.

Fiona's eyes were drawn to those hips as the secretary moved, the way her body rolled and twisted had her licking her lips, unconsciously, her hand already reaching for the tube of lipstick that was always with her.

"Good morning, bitch," the woman said in a breathy tone that sounded strange to the older woman.

She nodded, her thoughts a whirlwind of confused ideas. "Thank you, darling" she murmured softly.

A flicker of confusion appeared in Euphemia's eyes. But before another word left the secretary she reached into her brassiere and took out a familiar compact.

Fiona shivered. Something about these mirrors wad wrong. She had to - put another layer on her lips. That's all she really needed to do.

Both women looked at the mirror and then they were staring at each other's mouths. "My lips look too pale," said Euphemia in a low breathy voice. She reached for the lipstick. Fiona watched, fascinated as the younger woman's tongue flicked over those black lips. Fiona felt an almost uncontrollable urge to kiss them. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. What had just happened? She couldn't quite remember.

"You're looking like a fine fuck, bitch" the secretary purred as she put her compact away and Fiona's eyes returned to those painted black lips, mesmerized. "We'll need you looking your best for today's meeting."

"Of course, darling," Fiona replied distractedly. "We need to look the best for Giselle."

Euphemia smiled and licked those lips again, a gesture which sent shivers down Fiona's spine. The older woman had no idea what she was doing, or why, but the thought was so appealing she could not help herself. As Euphemia turned to leave, Fiona caught her wrist.

Euphemia raised her eyebrow inquisitively and glanced at Fiona.

"I-I want to taste," Fiona began, but the rest of her sentence was lost in the soft press of the other woman's lips.

Their tongues tangled together in an exquisite dance. Euphemia sucked on her lips greedily, leaving her breathless and weak in the knees. When they broke the kiss, Euphemia giggled at the expression of pure bliss that crossed the older woman's face. She traced her fingers over the swollen, red lips and grinned wickedly. "Now you have to do all the makeup again, bitch." The thought seemed to send shivers through the older woman and Fiona smiled widely. The prospect of reapplying makeup seemed positively thrilling.

Euphemia giggled again and turned to leave the office, her hips rolling in a seductive sway.

Fiona returned to the compact mirror and stared into its depths.

Without thoughts she started applying layers and layers of makeup to her face, painting over everything unseemly.

***

Giselle looked at the two women who had entered her little corner of the business.

They were a treat to the eye. Fiona had a body that had aged like a fine wine. Her curves, her long legs and that magnificent cleavage. Her face had been covered with layers of makeup that made her look delicious. And definitely more like a slutty parody of her usual professional self.

Giselle could feel herself getting aroused by just looking at her.

Then there was Euphemia. That young, vibrant creature with the perfect little ass and her perky breasts, just asking to be played with, looked like she stepped right out of some punk or goth porn. All black makeup, black clothes and a shock of pink hair.

Giselle didn't think that her compacts would be that strong. Or maybe she had underestimated the desire in those women to look more slutty. To become the perfect playthings for her and her clients.

"There are going to be some changes around here," Giselle said with her sweetest smile.

"What kind of changes?" asked Fiona. Her eyes were slightly unfocused as if she had been drinking all day. A strand of saliva ran down the side of her mouth. She giggled as she wiped at it with a fingertip. "We've been busy."

"Yes, I know. You've worked hard." Giselle's voice dripped honey and venom in equal measure. "And that's exactly why change is needed. First, Fiona, I want every employee to have a compact."

"I'll make sure everyone gets one." The woman nodded obediently, licking her lips.

Giselle's eyes sparkled dangerously. She turned her gaze to Euphemia, who was standing quietly next to her. "Second point, Euphemia, I want some changes done to the internal messaging system. It should reflect our new business model: Luscious Lips and Slutty Sex," Giselle announced grandly. Her voice had a lilting quality to it that seemed to mesmerize the two women before her.

"Yes, mistress." The young woman smiled, licking her lips. Her tongue flicked over them suggestively.

"And finally," Giselle's eyes narrowed slightly. "You two tarts are making me wet. I need some, entertainment." Her hand slipped down between her thighs.

Euphemia and Fiona exchanged looks, then nodded in unison. Their expressions became lascivious and hungry as they knelt before her.

Giselle smiled wickedly, spreading her legs wider. "Good girls." Her hand dipped beneath the waistband of her panties, finding the wet warmth within. "Let's begin, shall we?"

"Yes, Mistress." The two women spoke simultaneously, their voices dripping with lust.

Giselle leaned back, enjoying the marks their plump pillow lips left on her flesh.

She couldn't wait for everyone to have a small compact in their pocket. They had so many better thoughts than people.

[circeswhore]

The villain has captured you and strapped you into the Mind Control Chair and they turn the machine on to turn you into a mindless puppet but you’re one of those people who have a hard time being hypnotized and you’re just going :/ sorry I’m not feeling it and they’re losing their mind

[petheroine]

It takes them hours and they keep fiddling with the machine specifics, and finally you see them stifle a yawn

And then you get to hit them with the 'oh... are you feeling *sleepy*?'

[hypnocutie]

Reinvent the concept of a “puppet regime”

I’m a pretty princess, but I’m also just an empty headed drooly little girl sheltered by the adults who do all the thinking for me as the outside world is dangerous

I don’t need to think, I just need to sit around and look pretty and blank and drooly 💕

[trainwreck-of-thoughts]

Wordcount

"...aaaand all the way up. Welcome back, how're you feeling?"

Hana's head whirled with the familiar fog of amnesia, that gentle, unobtrusive don't think too hard about it that she'd by now learned to associate with imminent surprises. She didn't feel particularly strange, aside from the usual post-trance sluggishness, but by this point she'd learned how that meant absolutely zilch.

"I feel like..."

-49, 48, 47-

The numbers didn't interrupt her thoughts, they were just sort of... there. Hovering in the background the way things normally hover in the background of your mind: I'm a bit chilly, tomorrow is the big day, I should buy milk. It felt a little bit like reading them, a little bit like hearing them, but mostly like her thoughts themselves felt: indistinct, conceptual. Except that it hadn't felt like her thinking them.

"What the hell was that?"

-46, 45, 44, 43, 42-

Her hypnotist tried to remain aloof and unreadable, even succeeding for a second. Then they cracked a smile that widened into a grin, then into wild uncontrolled laughter, body shaking with some private amusement, dark hair bouncing up and down. She sat there, stunned, until they calmed down and spoke at last.

"Aha, darling, you know how you can never resist having the last word? I figured I'd have some fun with that impulse. As I'm sure you figured out by now, you get fifty words to last you the rest of the day - forty-two now - and once you get to zero... Actually, you can find that out yourself whenever the moment's there. Before lunch, if you keep going at this rate."

Her mouth had already opened by the time she bit back the instinctive retort. Okay, so that was the game. Fine. Easy, even. She'd been caught by surprise there, but now she understood the rules. How hard could it be to only talk when absolutely necessary?

"Now, did you understand all that or should I use smaller words?"

"How stupid do you think I-"

-41, 40, 39, 38, 37, 36-

"You fucker!"

-35, 34-

She shut up.

"Oh, don't go quiet on me now, I -did- still ask you how you were feeling. It's my job to check in on you, you know."

This time the impulse to snark didn't come. She took her time to decide what she'd be saying, teasing out emotions from the conflicted mess inside her stomach, converting them into language, compressing all that to a carefully-budgeted handful of words.

"...Frustrated. Impressed. Reflective."

-33, 32, 31-

"Very well said, dear. You're so much more thoughtful with your word choice than you normally are! Thirty-one left, right? Good luck holding on to those."

-----

The rest of the day was like a strange, quiet version of their usual hang-outs. Having lunch. Doing the dishes together. Playing that board game they'd played a hundred times. Sometimes her hypnotist picked up the slack in conversation, launching into long rambles that didn't require much in ways of interaction. Other times, they were simply both silent. Hana hadn't ever quite realized how much there was an expectation to speak, or be ready to speak, whenever you were with another person. Now that had been taken away, everything seemed... easier, almost?

The countdown was still there, of course, and over the course of the afternoon it steadily ticked down. Sometimes she'd get tricked, slip up, and lose a few words, instinctively responding to anything from "Hey, Hana?" to "So why isn't Green Lantern part of the Avengers, anyway?".

Other times, she was forced to talk. Her hypnotist made her verbalize her entire takeout order, with no small amount of sadistic glee, and for one moment she'd been tempted to forgo her favorite just to be able to order something with a shorter name. She didn't, though - chả cá lã vong was just too good.

Even so, by the end of the day, there were twelve words remaining. She felt proud. She'd made it through. For all the fun that she admitted she'd had along the way - first and foremost, she'd been playing to win.

They'd gotten ready for bed without incident, and as she crawled in, she flashed the biggest, smuggest smile in her arsenal. Reveling in her victory didn't require words.

Her hypnotist, somewhat concerningly, was bearing some cryptic smile. A vague sense of worry crept into Hana's mind, like there was something she'd been forgetting, something really important and-

Her hypnotist snapped their fingers. The response was immediate, words jumping from her mouth like it'd been spring-loaded, the whole movement of tongue and lips no more voluntary than when you close your mouth to swallow.

"I'm your toy."

-11, 10, 9-

Of course. Of course. This was so their style.

"Well, dear, it would seem I did not just put in that countdown this morning. It took some restraint, not using it sooner, but I'm sure you're happy I could control myself. Though I'll confess I initially imagined I'd have to use it more than four times."

She glared silently. A part of her, both resigned to her defeat and defiant to the end, proposed throwing out a string of epithets and going out on her own terms. Before she could decide if she wanted to do that, her hypnotist spoke again.

"Now, I think we both know what's going to happen here. You are so adorably sensitive to countdowns, after all, and this one is happening directly inside your own head. You're already a little fuzzy, aren't you? And it's only going to get worse as we start counting down more."

Actually, yeah, she was a little-

A snap.

"I'm your toy."

-8, 7, 6-

Snap.

"I'm... your toy."

-5, 4, 3-

Snap.

"I'm... your... toy"

-2, 1, 0-

She was gone before her head hit the pillow.

[another-hypno-toy]

i swear, this might be hotter every time i read it. this is evil, @trainwreck-of-thoughts

[thewindowofthesummerhouse]

Elias Ravanetti