no thoughts head empty

bunny or bambi • 22 • taken • cis lesbian • she/her • iq: 34C • put ur age in ur bio or ur getting blocked

[hypnoqueers]

My kinks masterlist

• objectification

• hypnosis

• faux incest

• edging

• porn addiction

• pet play

• somnophilia

• cnc

• bimbofication

• overstimulation

• oviposition

• breeding/pregnancy

• dumbification

• teratophilia

• misogyny roleplay

Limits

• no pics of me

• unsanitary things (triggers my ocd)

• snuff

• injurious things like cutting or burning

Send me asks if you want to know how I got/realized I had these kinks!

[bktempted-deactivated20251221]

Brain Stuff. You’re hunched over your desk, the glow of your laptop screen casting shadows across your cluttered apartment. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, ready to type the next paragraph of your dissertation — something about neural plasticity in machine learning models. It’s brilliant stuff, the kind of work that’s gotten you whispers of “genius” from your PhD advisors. You’re in the zone, your brain firing on all cylinders, when the front door clicks open.

“Hey, babe,” comes his voice, low and casual, like he doesn’t know what it does to you. Your boyfriend steps inside, shedding his jacket. He’s got that easy grin, the one that makes your stomach tighten. You glance up, meaning to say something sharp and witty, but he’s already peeling off his shirt, revealing the lean muscle underneath. Your mouth goes dry. The words you were about to type — something about synaptic pruning — slip away like sand through your fingers.

“Missed you today,” he says, crossing the room. He’s close now, close enough that you can smell the faint spice of his cologne. Your pulse kicks up, and you try to focus on the screen. You’re a goddamn scholar, you can handle this. But then he leans over your shoulder, his breath brushing your ear, and says, “What’s my smart girl working on?”

Your brain stutters. “Uh… it’s, um…” You squint at the screen, but the words lose their meaning. Neural what? Plasticity? Fuck, you know this. You wrote fifteen pages on it yesterday. His hand slides onto your shoulder, thumb brushing your neck, and your IQ takes a nosedive. “It’s… brain stuff,” you manage, voice small. You hate how stupid you sound, how you can feel your own brilliance leaking out of you as he closes the distance.

He chuckles, soft and loving, and that sound alone makes your thighs clench. “Brain stuff, huh? Tell me more.” His fingers dip lower, tracing the edge of your tank top, and you try — God, you try — to string a sentence together. “It’s about… how brains… change?” Your voice lilts up like a question, and you want to scream. You’re not some ditzy undergrad; you’re a fucking PhD candidate. But his hands are on your chest now, cupping you through your shirt, and your thoughts scatter like dropped marbles.

“C’mon, babe,” he teases, turning your chair to face him. “You’re usually so quick.” He’s smirking, and you hate how much you love it. You open your mouth to snap back, to prove you’ve still got it, but then he’s kissing you — hard, messy, all tongue and heat — and your mind goes blank. Not fuzzy, not slow, just empty. You kiss him back, hands fumbling to his waist, and all you can think is cock. One word, looping like a broken record.

He pulls you up, backing you toward the couch, and you trip over your own feet. Normally you’d curse yourself for being clumsy, but right now you just giggle — high pitched, brainless. “You’re so hot,” you blurt, and it’s the most coherent thing you’ve said in minutes. He grins, shoving his jeans down, and when you see him— hard, thick, right there — your knees buckle. You drop to the cushions, staring up at him, mouth slack. You should be analyzing data right now, not drooling like some horny idiot.

“Fuck, look at you,” he mutters, climbing over you. His hands yank your shorts off. You’re already so wet. You try to focus, one last chance to claw back a shred of intellect. “Wait, I — I need to finish—” you start, but then he’s pushing inside you, slow and deliberate, and the rest of the sentence evaporates. Your head lolls back, a moan spilling out instead. You feel him stretch you, fill you, and your brain shuts down completely. “Oh… oh God,” you whimper, legs wrapping around him on instinct.

He starts moving, thrusting deep, and you’re gone. No more dissertation, no more research — just his cock, slamming into you, turning you into a panting, writhing mess. “Tell me something smart,” he pants against your neck, mocking you now, and you want to, you need to, to prove you’re not this dumb slut he’s turning you into. “Th-the brain… it… f-fuck, it d—” You can’t finish. Every thrust scrambles your thoughts more, until you’re babbling nonsense, hips bucking to meet him.

You’re frustrated, somewhere deep down, because you know this isn’t you. You’ve presented at conferences, dismantled arguments from tenured professors, but right now you can’t even remember your own name. “Please,” you gasp, not sure what you’re begging for — him to stop, or keep going, or something else entirely. He grabs your hips, angles himself deeper, and you stop caring. “Sho… haaard…” you slur, drooling over the syllables, “sho… deeeep…”

He laughs, a low rumble. “That’s my girl. Just let go.” And you do, you can’t hold on anymore. He fucks you harder, faster, and you’re nothing but heat and need, whimpering every time he bottoms out. Your nails dig into his back, and you’re close — so close — then he groans, loud and guttural, and you feel his hot cum pour into every crevice. You climax alongside each other.

It’s instant. The second his cum hits you, it’s like a switch flips. Your vision clears, your breathing steadies, and your brain kicks back into gear. Synaptic pruning. Neural plasticity. Machine learning models. You blink up at him, still slick with sweat, and push him off with a shaky hand. “Rude,” you say, voice sharp again. He flops beside you, grinning, while you stagger to your desk, naked, his cum dripping down your thigh. You sit down, pull up your dissertation, and start typing like nothing happened — sentences crisp, ideas flowing.

“Welcome back, genius,” he calls, still sprawled on the couch, annoyingly smug. You don’t even look at him, but your lips twitch. Just ignore him, you’re back, and you’ve got work to finish. At least until he gets hard again.

[becoming-less-than]

Holy fuck 1000000 times yes please! Fuck… I’ll just be over here being a horny mess… damn.

[kinda-pushy-fem]

You can keep the fairy princess in a castle shaped dollhouse and dress it in Barbie clothes. Fairies are basically dolls anyway

[monstersflashlight]

Hyperactive werewolf boyfriend that can't help himself following you around the house in hopes of getting some enrichment. You are tempted to throw him a ball, but that would be rude...

So you hide your dirty panties and leave him to find them. You see him sniffling around the house while you do some chores around the house, smiling every time he walks past you.

You should have known better...

Because when he gets restless, he would rather look for the source of the smell than some flimsy fabric hidden away.

That's why landry was never done and your werewolf boyfriend discovers a new favorite stim-toy... your clit.

[fatherfiguredom]

Stop thinking, good girls don't need brains. Instead leak your brain out of your pussy, goon your brain away, porn and hypnosis are all you need. Doesn't it feel so much nicer to not think?

[divaofhypnosis]

I think the risk of accidentally getting hypnotized should be higher. I think you should be able to accidentally click on a weird link, and suddenly you’re sitting for hours with your brain leaking out between your legs. I think you shuld be able to go on a slightly fishy date, and the next day find yourself as a completely brainwashed fucktoy. You should be able to walk into a store you’ve never seen before, and come out of that store with a brand new and freshly reprogrammed personality. The fact that falling into a deep trance that will permanently change me isn’t something I have to worry about in my everyday life just doesn’t sit right with me.

[goodgirlsapplyhere]

Your mind is broken

You're just a braindead gooner bimbo

Drop

Rub your cunt, edge and goon what is left of your mind away.

Your thoughts are useless

Your tits are all that you're good for

Drop

Rub your cunt, edge and goon what is left of your mind away

Goon

Rub

Edge

You dont deserve to cum

Goon

Goon

Goon

Become more addicted to self pleasure and denial.

You cant help yourself, your mind is leaking out with your cunt juice. And you cant stop

Goon

Goon

Goon

[swellingdesires]

When you made the well-intentioned and earnest wish of "I wish I had the ideal body for my girlfriend," that you'd end up quite like this.

You knew your girlfriend had something of an 'appreciation' for women with larger busts — her IG feed was constantly filled with a cornucopia of 'breast foot forward' content creators — and assumed that I'd get some DDD-cups... maybe E-cups... maybe some smoother skin... presumably gain an inch or two in height... and that'd be that!

Not this...

"Oh no, sweetie! You look so flushed and so focused... are your milkers getting too full again?"

Instead, you have this...

A pair of breasts that store more milk than a cow's udders, and so over-sized and full that they make any shirt become all-but transparent as they stretch it out...

But more over, you have a fearsome level of milk production... and now... if you find yourself going more than twelve hours without at least some form of relief, or even a 'quick pump', the pressure inside them grows to painful degrees... and you watch them visibly swell, and stretch more and more until you're properly 'serviced'.

"Sorry guys, Tits over here needs some love. Give ma a mo'?"

Nina's happy now, though...

She gets to have her 6' 6" tall R-cup ladened milky hucow toy... and she keeps talking about 'business opportunities' for my milk now, so at least we don't have to worry about money any more.

So that's... nice...

"Moooooo~"

[hypnopum]

“What’s wrong, toy? Unable to look away?” Your hypnotist asked, giggling at you. “Helpless to do anything but stare deeper and deeper into my eyes?” You were helpless, their eyes were like magnets, pulling you in, more and more. You nodded, dreamily.

“Good.” They said, grinning. “That’s exactly how it should be. When you’re staring, when you’re lost in my eyes, that’s when you’re at your most pliable.” Their hands pressed on either side of your head, holding you still. Their eyes were pouring their programming into you.

“Your most accepting. It’s in this space that I can begin to slip my commands as deep into your brain as I want.” Your brain was shutting down, as their control took over. “Rewiring you to obsess over me. To find yourself daydreaming about me.” Their smile had shifted.

It had been alluring, seductive. Now they had a possessive look on their face. “Mind wandering off whenever you have free time. Not enough to be dangerous, you’ll always be safe… But your obsession is going to grow, and develop.” You felt the seeds, landing in your mind.

“I’ll be in your head as you go to sleep, and when you’ve just woken up. And you’re going to want to think of me, more, and more.” You couldn’t resist. Their words were flowing, unrelenting, into your unresisting mind. I’m so soothing. So comforting. So… Alluring.”

You felt enchanted by them. “Anytime you do think of me, you’ll send me a message, it doesn’t have to make sense. It doesn’t have to be long. It can just be a full stop. We’ll know that I’m in your head. And that’s what matters. That you become more obsessed with me, got it?”

* * *

This was released yesterday on patreon (patreon.com/hypnopum) and subscribestar (https://www.subscribestar.adult/hypnopum)! Support me there to get early access to all future microfictions, from just £1/month! Or, from £5/month, you get access to my longer pieces!

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!

[laurawful]

I bet it feels sooooo good to be all tranced out and empty and get told to make out with another girl who's also hypnotized,,,

[mindlessbimbo]

Deity that requires human sacrifices to enact its will, but rather than being killed, the sacrifices enter into a deep, permanent trance state while the deity puppets their bodies

[dykehimejoshi]

dolly needs to be objectified for its well-being

[transyonic-vi]

pokemon that has its trainer on a leash

[falinkslover]

"Are you talking about your boyfriend or your Pokemon?"

"Or?"

[transyonic-vi]

defeated pokemon and trainer kissing each other while they're used by the winners (the trainer by the winning pokemon, the pokemon by the winning trainer)

[g00nerbunny]

The “turn off your brain button” type triggers are so fuckin hot like 🥵🤤

Make me stupid and blank without even realizing

[yourworstinfluence-deactivated2]

[thedumbestcunteverr]

I totes am 🙈💕