OK fourth Iteration of this Main Post, I think were up to 4 years so I'm going for a record as a kink blog! Brief things about me I am a Hypnotist, self taught with a preference for the fairer sex I am also a hypnokink writer and kinda of part time artist, IKR So many hats!
I make Hypnotic induction videos which I have recently begun voicing as well, those are available on my youtube and Deviant Art account, links at the bottom of the page. I also write and draw, my writing is decidedly dark and often CnC so be warned, early access to chapters of my on going stories are available for paid subscribers on my Deviant Art account (For like half the cost of a Starbucks per month... inflation Sheesh....)
Love gettign anon requests and I will tag those either #sillyanon or #anonanswered but other than that don't expect any organising Tags here, it wont happen.
Also please note I am in the UK, this means a GMT Timezone, which means any mind fuckery will have to take place during MY waking hours thank you very much, the weather in Wales may be crap, but I haven't become a vampire just yet...
Hmmm a way to distract a silly pretty puppy... let me see. I think I have it, puppy was very good earlier with such a pretty video, she deserves many headpats for being such a good little pup. Puppy is a very clever writer too, so here's a little chore for puppy I think she might find fun, puppy is going to write a little story for all her favourite admirers, a brief 15 minute window into puppy's play time, how she felt, what she did, I think 500 words should suffice, show us all what a smart little puppy you can be, can't you do that little pup?
Handler gave puppy a little writing chore, so puppy is going to do her very best.
The pads rested against my legs, and when the current began, it was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It wasn't something I could compare to touch or pressure. It travelled through my body. The tiny pulses danced beneath my skin, making my muscles twitch and shift all on their own. Watching my own legs respond without conscious effort was really exciting. They weren't moving because I had decided to move them, they simply answered the rhythm of the machine, similar way my mind does when it is being visited by someone else.
The feeling demanded my attention. For those moments, there wasn't much room for anything else. My thoughts, usually racing from one thing to another, became wonderfully quiet because all I could focus on was the next pulse, the next little flutter beneath my skin. Every gentle contraction reminded me to stay in the present, to keep my focus on the twitching, on the pain that run through my veins, the pleasure it left behind pulsing.
I wore my bone gag during the session, and I remember absent-mindedly drooling around it. Normally I might have felt embarrassed, but in that moment it barely crossed my mind. It simply became another part of the experience. Puppy wasn't trying to look composed or clever. Puppy was just... being puppy. A mindless, drooling and whimpering pet. Puppy spends so much of everyday life thinking. Planning. Worrying. Overanalysing every conversation and every little mistake. There was none of that during this session. There wasn't a problem to solve or a decision to make. Just the pain slowly transforming into pleasure.
Pulse. Twitch. Breathe. Repeat.
It surprised me how something so simple can occupy my whole attention. I found myself whining and whimpering from pleasure between the pulses, curious about what the next one would feel like. Every adjustment was slightly different. Sometimes it felt like tiny bubbles fizzing beneath my skin, other times it was a firm, rhythmic tightening of the muscles, almost as though my legs had developed a language of their own. By the end, I felt oddly peaceful, because for a little while it had given my endlessly busy mind permission to rest. I wasn't trying to impress anyone. I wasn't trying to achieve anything. I was simply experiencing something new, one pulse at a time. Puppy can wag, smile around a silly bone gag, accept a few well-earned head pats, and enjoy the simple happiness of existing exactly as she is. She was desperate and pathetic at the same time but without any shame or worry of how she will look, how she will sound because she was taking the pain well, she was hurting for her audience, she was hurting for the people watching her little puppy self embrace the pain and turns it into pleasure.
And if Handler thinks that's worthy of a 500-word writing chore...then puppy hopes she's earned those head pats.
Such a good puppy, definitely worthy of headpats and perhaps being taken out for a walk dolled up like a pretty puppy on show, looks like there will have to be more writing chores in your future.
Wind whipped through her crimson hair as she sptrined unsteadily, blindly into the night. Branches slashed and stung and ripped against her town gown, seeds and acorns but into rhe soft skin of bare feet, yet still she ran onwards, ever inwards into the forest. The hard edge of winters cold air number her muscles, a blissful reprice from the hot stinging pain as blood ran in thin rivulets from a myriad of curs and grazes, the frost decimated tree canopy thickened as she fled deeper into the dark.
Her heartbeat hammered in her ears as more and more the moon glow failed to penetrate the ever thickening rooftop of twisted tree limbs, the shadows lost definition as the all encompassing gloom threatened the swallow the fleeing waif. Her world tilted forward as her ankle caught a tree root thick with age and gnarled in its quest for nutrients in the crowded mass of frost touch trees, her vision exploded into random shocks of light as she impacted the the frozen earth. She fought unconsciousness, the coiling temptation to close her eyes, let her mind recede into the blissful oblivion of sleep, and allow the beast to catch her.
For a moment, the temptation seemed too great. To simply slip into deaths embrace, to surrender the obligations of family, of the crown, a moments rest would be all it took. She pushed off the ground, thorns biting into the palms of her hands, lacerating her knees. She struggled upright. Pain impossible to countenance shot through her twisted ankle, delivering her back to the ground in a twisted heap.
The wail burst from her chafed bloodied lips before she could reign it in and once loosed rhe flood of tears followed. Memories suppressed by adrenaline flooded her conciousness, images, screams, the broken bloodless bodies of her mother and father, sir Reginald, her personal bodyguard since birth replete in his armour, sword in hand, his body bent backwards with a sickening crack as his spine shattered under inhuman force. All around the banquet hall, the bodies of servants and nobles alike were torn asunder by the beast till only she remained.
The tree branches high above, obscured by darkness black as pitch, groaned against a sudden weight. The shifting of the twisted wooden canopy sent fresh lances of pure moonlight dancing over the ground around her. She dared to turn her gaze into the dark and, for a moment, locked eyes with the beast above. Soft hazel eyes found twin pits of burning hellfire, mere pin pricks of light in the distance but thrown into sharp relief in the gloom, a fresh wave of terror and despair washed over her. She tried and draw her eyes away from the devils gaze but found her body unwilling, her mind surrendering to to fated doom.
"No more running" she heard the words with crystal clarity.
"No more fighting" words that appeared as foreign thoughts in her head.
She could feel herself drowning in that hellfire, terror shifted, pain faded, the mesmerising pits drew closer as the beast dropped 80 feet from the tallest branches of the canopy, his beguiling gaze never leaving her vision for an instant. She felt the ground shift as it landed, but all she could do was stare into that fire and silently wait to join her murdered family
So yeah, still going I guess, to be honest I might do more stories this way, short form seems so much easier and way less daunting...
A minute passed, then another and another, it could have lasted an eternity for all she cared, just one long moment of perfect peace, safety and warmth. The man shifted below her, the comfortable weight of his arm wrapped around her waist melted away as he reached into his pocket. She felt a distant sense of alarm, a ghost of a memory that remained blissfully out of reach in terms of form and substance but still whined with instinctual fear, she forced her eyelids open, the warmly lit beige of the hotel room ceiling filled her gaze, long slow, languid blinks as she tried to hold her eyes open a little longer.
The pocketwatch crossed into her field of view, the shiny silver casing pointed directly at her, his thumb resting on the release catch. The distant ghost begged her to close her eyes, look away, but the moment the cool reflective silver case filled her vision she found it impossible to tear her eyes from it, her blurry reflection stared back, tears running down her cheeks as something int he back of her mind re-arranged itself.
"Time to wake up now"
He pressed down on the catch, the pocketwatch swung open to reveal the ticking clockface. Her breath caught as the hands begun to swing backwards, counting down second by second. It was quite at first, barely perceptible, like a stream of running water that grew louder as the hands passed backwards, counting down the seconds, with each tick the water grew louder. Second by second her mind returned in a deluge of thoughts and memories. Responsibility, fear, anxiety, obligation, family, work, bills, studies, an onslaught of information that filled her blissfully empty mind, each instant weighing more than the last like an endless pouring of ball bearings clacking together in a chaotic jumble.
His hand dropped from her hair to wrap once again around her waist, holding her tight as she started to wake, it was always difficult for someone so restrained in their waking life, to go from that blissful darkness back to the harsh light of reality, most fought the experience but for now it was necessary, a quick assessment before taking her deeper.
Willpower... It's an odd term, isn't it? Because when you think about it, the exercise of will doesn't make you feel all that powerful, does it? Exercising your will means making decisions and choices, it mean responsibility. When you think about it, exercising your will doesn't make you feel powerful at all, does it?
No, exercising your will reminds you how hard it is, to make choices and desicions, what to wear? What to eat? When to fight? When to give in? When you think about it, your will is exhausting, a constant weight on your shoulders, a constant exhausting drain.
In fact, if you think about it, all exercising your will does is make you tired, anxious, maybe you made the wrong choice? Was that really the best decision? No, it certainly doesn't make you feel powerful. If anything, your willpower reminds you how tiring it is, making those decisions, day in, day out, a never-ending weight, pushing down on you, you can probably feel it even now, the thousands of desicions your making right now, pushing you down, draining you, when you think about it, life would be so much easier without willpower wouldn't it?
Just going from A to B, back and forth, carrying out tasks, think how much better you would feel, how much more relaxed, to go through life on rails, all the desicons made, no more Back and Forth on whether you were right or wrong, no more weight, dragging you down, you can't even imagine it can you? That freedom of knowing all your decisions were made for you, free of responsibility, obligation, going from A to B, Back and Forth, finally able to relax and enjoy, I imagine you always sneered at those empty little sluts, nothing up top, nothing to think about, but imagine how calm and freeing that would feel, empty, relaxed, from A to B, Back and Forth, no worries, no will, no ideas, just listening and following, relaxing and enjoying, think how much better you will be, once we get rid of all that nasty willpower...
Stuffed with a dildo but fell down the porn hole 🤤 need the push to clean while stufffed and dumm 😵💫 - 🐑
Silly little thing, perhaps we need to get you more in the right headspace hmmm? you want to be a good girl don't you? Good Girls are productive little edgesluts, so here is what your going to do pet, when your feeling a little more lucid your going to pick out a chore outfit, if you can afford it perhaps get yourself a nice revealing maid outfit, something to put you in the right headspace, then you can stuff yourself, melt your brain and simply take on the persona of your outfit, now be a good girl and slap than needy cunt to keep it paying attention.
She lay there shivering, her mind lost in a daze, separated from any sense of who or where she was, occasional spikes of lust and pleasure trickled through her nervous system as slowly some semblance of awareness drifted back into place, she was lay down, the blindfold had been removed at some unknowable point between the earth shattering cascade of orgasm and her reposed position. All she could do was stare at the ceiling, her body content to remain exactly where she was. She felt the weight of his arm around her waist, cradling her as his other hand stroked her hair, slowly, gently.
Gradually, the girl floated back into semi awareness, he could feel her moving tentatively in his hold, slow deep breaths, and sluggish movement indicative that she had yet to entirely wake from the trance she had been placed in. He leaned forward, lips almost brushing her hears and whispered.
"Do you want to wake up now?"
Hot breath on her neck and ear sent a fresh wave of sticky heat through her body, the stifling warmth compounded by the fact she was still wearing the jeans and blouse she had arrived in. Squirming under the fresh wave of heat, her dazed mind struggled to form a coherent answer, distantly she knew it was time to wake up, to go through the safety practises they had talked about before meeting, but a much stronger part of her subconciouness reverted to her teenage years, that stubborn refusal to separate from somewhere warm, safe and comfortable, the words slipped out with the merest hint of a sleepy groan.
"5 more minutes, Daddy"
The man chuckled, his eyebrow arched slightly, in the months they had spoken online she had never called him that, and yet as the ravishing 30 something lay helpless in his arms, stripped bare of any inhibitions and utterly vulnerable to his influence, he could help feel protective over her even as he watched the rythmic rise and fall of her chest as she drifted between awake and asleep.
Mmmm yess fuck need something to keep me dripping and ready to use 😵💫wanna clean more and cook while dripppping down my thighs 🤤 -🐑
Such a domesticated little edgeslut hmmm? perhaps some maid training is in order, we could rent you out to clean houses in a nice little maid outfit with a plug in both holes keeping you edged and blank while you clean and cook, doesn't that sound nice dear?
am I a good lil puppy?~
i love to edge myself silly, I love listening to people give me commands as I watch a spirals, the voices telling me to rub and edge till I ruff borf
-w-
Hmmmm that does SOUND like a good puppy, are you wearing your collar all the time so puppy doesn't get lost?
Her breath caught as the words cut through through her addled thoughts, the familiar voice sent a sudden thrill through her body even as it further untethered her sense of identity. She swayed unsteadily on legs that would only move if given instruction, she had been asked a question, the voice needed an answer, but aside from the blinding moment of clarity, her brain was already beginning to fog again.
"I don't know who I am." A breathy whine now choked between panting breaths. A thought echoed in the back of her mind, a singular surety that this sense of total divorce from her identity had been the most freeing and pleasurable experience of her life. That her name, her identity would be nothing more than links forging into a chain that would rob her of this blessed freedom.
She didn't want to know who she had been.
"M...make me....New...." she struggled with the supreme effort needed to break her mind from the routine repetition of her mantra, to answer the question, to stave off the return of shame and responsibility, to be someone else for a little while longer, even if it meant being nothing.
A finger gently caressed her cheek, such a simple act that almost buckled her knees with overstimulation, a conflicting tide of emotions and sensations in a terrible jumble that was far beyond her ability to process, then came the words she had unwittingly been waiting for.
"Good Girl"
She fell hard against him as the stimulation overwhelmed her senses, a strangled gasp left her lips as her hips lurched forward, rocking backwards and forwards, her vision behind the blindfold exploded with colours as what was left of her restraint snapped like a rubber band. All the while, he held her as she shook and bucked and moaned in his arms, her feet still glued in place by earlier suggestion, the rest of her body simply far too wracked by sensation to follow instructions.
She didn't know how long he held her there, the in dark, warm, emptiness, she didn't know she was, but for what might have been the first time in her life.
"I don't know who I am" the thought should have sent her spiralling into panic and yet as the words left her lips and bounced back to her ears she couldn't help but find a certain serenity, a warm pulse of that travelled from the crown of her head all the way down through her body.
"I don't know who I am," the phrase came again, unbidden, the wave of warmth, stronger, deeper, growing acceptance of her mantra. She shivered as her mind snapped a piece of the jigsaw into place. She didn't know who she was, and yet she had a grasp of where she was, the pulse that accompanied the realisation she was waking from a trance sent a fresh wave of arousal through her body. There was no urgency to the growing heat in her body, no desperation that normally accompanied such sensation, just the slow, almost languid build up of warmth, anticipation, the sensitivity of her nerves slowly ratcheting up with each repetition.
"I don't know who I am," her voice cracked as the intensity of the wave increased, it became difficult to stand as her muscles twitched and relaxed randomly as if her body had been hooked up to a car battery. She squirmed and shook, the knowledge of identity resting just out of her reach lending fresh delicous torture to her predicament. Her legs pushed together as she realised for this first time since waking, she could see through the dark fabric bound over her eyes, she didn't even think to try and move, the impulse lost as the mantra rolled again from her lips drawing a ragged breath with it.
"I don't know.... who i am,"
He watched her from the bed, the vision of beauty normally restrained by layers of repression and shame, hypnotically freed from one form of bondage, and poured directly into a far more pleasant predicament. Consent was key, and besides the addition of a blindfold, her outfit remained unchanged and yet as the wave of excitement washed over her, those few areas of skin she had allowed herself to bare flushed crimson with heat.
He stood and walked next to the shivering subject, drawing a gentle finger along her collar bone, she loosed a plaintive meow as he circled her, whispering in her ear as she shivered and whined.
She wanted something wholesome. At least that's what she had said, somewhat nervously when they first met in person. The talk online beforehand had been all about corporal punishment, mindless obedience, helplessly edging herself silly with no way of controlling her own body, the usual kink stuff. But in that stark moment of reality, she found giving voice to those fantasies, died in her throat. He smiled, he nodded, he understood and for a brief moment of eaking physical contact, when he placed his hand warmly on hers to reassure, she felt genuinely safe, if a little dissapointed that her darker fantasies would remain unexplored.
Then she fell. So much deeper than her past experiences, a sudden drop into an empty void, a warm all encompassing oblivion she had never achieved with online hypnosis. A voice poked and prodded her sleeping mind, questions that cut through her sense of shame and embarrassment like a surgeons scalpel, revealing the shadowy fantasies that lurked deep within her subconscious, with layers of propriety stripped a way, she couldn't help but answer truthfully, her dreams, her hopes and nightmares all laid bare and not a wholesome thought amongst them.
The Hypnotist smiled, it was going to be a long day for his new pet....
