Just kinda putting some thoughts here about self brainwashing to become aroused, and how I'm doing things. I'm also putting this here because goddamn, recounting these events is arousing as hell, might as well put it here to read back later.
It started out as an innocent(well, not so innocent) question.
"I like the idea of being triggered into being helplessly horny at a moment's notice without even thinking too hard about it, but I don't want to hand that control over to anyone else. That's too dangerous. Can I do that to myself?"
At first I hoped online posts would do that, and while they helped, they were... incredibly gendered one way or the other. None were simply body part oriented with gender neutral pronouns.
I saw posts from Miss Yoyo that kind of got me thinking about it. I started to train myself, versed in self hypnosis, using subliminals, binaural beats, and spirals to start associating hypnosis with pleasure. Every time I got off, I would put on the subliminals and a different spiral and rub until I was in that blissful state just before orgasm. And then I would hold off until my mind was practically gone, tongue out, eyes crossed, to cum.
The goal was to arouse myself any time I saw a spiral or examples of mind control, and instantly bring back the feelings of mind numbing pleasure when I thought about it. A self induced sort of "PING~!" moment where suddenly, I would sit up straight, eyes crossing hard, and aroused beyond belief. If it was good, it might go further, but that's all I hoped to achieve.
At first, I thought it was silly, that I couldn't do that to myself. I could try all I liked, and it wouldn't *really work,* could it?
And then one day in the college library, studying, an arousal subliminal I'd used many times came across my playlist in my headphones, and my clit started to throb as if I was rubbing it. I could almost *feel* my hand wanting to sneak inside my jeans, and I raced back to the dorm. Before I knew what was happening, I went from at the library to at my dorm room desk, circling my clit and staring wide eyed into another spiral, another gif, listening to the subliminal.
I woke up from that event shaken and absolutely fascinated. So, I kept going. I thought, "I can stop any time I damn well please, why not go a little further?"
So then I would start listening to the subliminals and binaural beats in my headphones on the from class, throbbing with every step and coming back to privacy, absolutely horny out of my mind. It got worse when I finally got my own dorm, and soon just sessions of lying in bed hoping my roommate wouldn't walk in on me turned into full brainwashing sessions with my headphones on, the lights off, and my laptop playing a hypnosis spiral on full brightness where the flashing words could capture the most attention.
Soon, every time I got horny, my mind would start to sink, and think of brainwashing. The more hypnosis NSFW I looked at, the more spirals, the files... I liked hypnosis before, but this was new. It was intense. It was addicting. And I didn't know it at the time.
The fact that I had just started T, and it started making my clit grow and get much bigger was not at all helping.
I had to go on trips the first half of May, and I was gone for two weeks with barely any privacy. I got off here and there, but I thought I would be completely broken of the habit.
When I got home, I was shocked when suddenly, after unpacking, I was sitting down again and my hand just automatically started typing in my subliminals and spirals. I couldn't stop myself when my hand started rubbing my clit, and my eyes drifted to the spiral, flashing its pretty words. I edged and played for what seemed like an eternity, and when I came, I said the damning sentences that have since become a mantra.
"My clit controls me. Brainwashing is good for me. Hypnosis addiction is good for me. I must obey my clit."
God, even just typing that made my eyes cross.
Soon enough, I was brainwashing myself again, and again, and again... rubbing without being able to stop myself unless I absolutely had to. I'm starting to realize I don't have control over my clit anymore, or my libido. It's starting to become an addiction, something I need to do when it throbs or calls my attention. I've nearly gone stiff and started throbbing at the mention of hypnosis in regular media. Edging has helped reinforce it, and ruined orgasms are amazing for blanking my mind completely.
When I start rubbing my clit now, I can't stop myself, as I helplessly stare and circle over and over... I can feel my clit getting hard just reading this, fuck...
And now I'm realizing how deep this has gone, how far I've sunk into it, and I don't know if I can escape. And the fact is, I don't think I mind.
Maybe I always wanted to be brainwashed into it. Maybe that was my subconscious goal, to relinquish control to something that could never misuse it against me, not in a way that mattered. Maybe I wanted to be controlled without remorse, but not by a person.
My clit is throbbing again... I know it's only a matter of time before the pleasure gets to my head, and I'm a mindless, brainwashed, masturbating mess again, a slave to my clit and to the pleasure edging brings... It won't be long before I'm forced to brainwash again, staring into those pretty spinning rings of color, to cross my eyes, to let my tongue hang out... god
Maybe that's not a bad thing, not to escape from it
Maybe I was always meant to be a slave to my clit
Maybe it feels good because it's meant to happen
Maybe it was inevitable
Fuck, I'm horny again, I love being horny, though
It never gets old... it feels so good...~ Feels good not to think~
Maybe I should masturbate just one more time... Then I can stop whenever I want... I don't have to be a slave to my clit, I just choose to be, I'm ultimately in control until my clit starts throbbing and I have to obey because pleasure is obedience and obedience is pleasure and I have to obey and keep brainwashing like a good slave because I'm a good boy who likes to play with hid clit all the time because I'm a good slave tomycclitt plla
More about self brainwashing! But this time it's what typically happens when I do it to myself~ just a little walk through of what happens to me when I do it~
When I get it in my head to start brainwashing again, it sticks with me. I started to condition myself early on to have it be a nagging, needy feeling that won't leave me alone once I've thought of it. Usually for fun, I try to resist.
Resistance play is a big part of this for me! I try my best to do other things and ignore the heat pooling between my legs, the edges of my vision beginning to fuzz out. I try to fight it, but the more I think about it, the easier it gets to rationalize doing it again, just one more time...
If I get too stubborn and I'm in a safe place, my hand will snap automatically and trigger an immediate drop into a trance that skyrockets my arousal. As it stands, if I am the one who does it and it happens, I cannot resist it. Even if I try. I'll be helpless to the snap and my body will suddenly go rigid. My eyes will cross, I'll stand up straight, and my clit will throb.
Over time, my arousal has become absolutely linked to trance. I've wound the two so tightly together that now regular arousal starts to put my mind into a helpless, sleepy state of need and obedience. So having this happen speeds up the process tenfold.
If I'm not far enough gone, I'll sit down with my laptop, grab a spiral and an audio(usually wordless binaural beats made to arouse, Mindshop on YouTube is great for this) and stare into it until I'm fully under. If I'm not touching by this point already, I will be soon.
If I'm already too far gone and touching myself, smile wide and eyes crossed mindlessly, I'll simply find a place to lay down and start to rub.
My whole body remains stiff as I do this, staring straight ahead, either into a spiral or blankly at the wall, and I fall into a repetitive motion of circling my clit with my fingers. The instant I start to touch, my brain shuts off completely. I'm gone, doomed to touch for at least an hour, if not more if time allows.
From there, things get fuzzy. My perception melts into pleasure and bliss and obedience to a baser need. I reinforce the addiction to self hypnosis and edging, pulling myself further and further into it with each and every stroke. The more I do it, the more I want to do it. The more I edge, the more I need it. It's a viciously delicious cycle.
The session, after a while, ends in either an orgasm(usually when I've had a long day of edging and actually need release), or a ruined orgasm, and the session starts over. I've come to really appreciate them, as they take away the urgency to cum but not the arousal left behind. It feels like submission, not being able to cum, and it turns me on like fucking crazy.
Eventually, once I'm done, I'll slowly rise from trance and make sure I'm doing alright. Check my body, check my need for food, water, cleaning, or rest. I'll curl up with some youtube videos, a blanket, a plushie, and my favorite headphones after taking care of the base necessities.
And I make sure to praise myself a whole damn lot. It helps to reward myself after sessions and take care of myself after, or record my thoughts. That way I can get my shattered brain back in order in a safe way, and self soothing is paramount at this stage. In a way, it links my mind back to self brainwashing as a pleasurable, good experience that I crave more because of the aftercare involved. Pleasure and then rest and safety are huge, huge parts of all of this.
If I have other things to do that day, I eventually ease off the aftercare and continue on. If i don't I can rest for as long as need be.
Writing about all this has... honestly made me crave to do it more~ so I might end up going to do that soon...
What's the harm in more reinforcement and conditioning~?
(brainwashing, mind control collar, company drone, corporate slutwashing, nc, mf blowjobs, and such nsft things)
Sadie knew she should probably have higher standards for herself than to accept a job at a warehouse belonging to such an infamous tech corporation. She had heard a lot about the fully computerized "electronic management system", the poor morale, and even some recent rumors about employees being forced to wear some kind of tracking technology made by the tech giant. Some crazy conspiracy theorists even said they brainwash people, much to Sadie's amusement. Point was, the company's reputation was bad. She needed to pay her rent this month SOMEHOW though, and this was the only company that replied to her application in time.
The application process had been weirdly pleasant. Most online job application portals were either ridiculously outdated or way too repetitive, but this application process kinda just... flew by. It kind of felt like a game at the time, and it was a little exciting? ...But she already barely remembered the process after a couple days, so maybe she was just excited to work for such a well-known company. Should she be so excited? She knew the company’s employee retention rate was really bad… but she needed money badly, and soon. And, hey, if it was as inhumane as everyone said, she could always just quit after a few weeks like everyone else does.
And so Sadie showed up to her first day on the job with a “fuck it” attitude, not knowing what to expect. She walked into the employee entrance, as the email she received had instructed. Beyond the door, there to greet her was… nobody. All she saw was doors on the wall facing her, a kiosk of some kind with a darkened screen, and hallways extending to either side. Confused, Sadie stood looking around for a few moments. Shouldn’t there be a manager or onboarding representative or something?
Just as she started thinking about either hunting down a manager or leaving while she had the chance, a screen in front of her lit up with a chime. One of the building’s creepy cameras must’ve recognized her from the video recording of her interview process, because the screen read, “EMPLOYEE SADIE: REPORT TO TRAINING ROOM.” Underneath that text was a map that simply had an arrow pointing towards the door that was closest to her in the first place.
“Okay, simple enough,” Sadie said to herself. The screen chimed again, as the text changed to say, “GOOD JOB!” Maybe it should’ve seemed creepy or condescending, but Sadie found it kind of charming that the company was trying to make their infamous automated management system a little less cold. With a small smile blooming across her face, she went to the training room and opened the door.
When she opened the door, she found a simple room with a chair facing a large screen. She quickly began to feel silly for still expecting a human manager to greet her at this point. She knew the company was known for its efficient, computerized processes. But still… this seemed a bit much.
She sighed in an attempt to ease her own uncertainty and sat down in the chair. As she did so, the screen on the wall she was facing lit up with the words, “HELLO EMPLOYEE SADIE,” and a pre-recorded voice began to speak to her through a slightly distorted-sounding speaker as some generic stock footage rolled. Sadie found the distortion in the audio a bit distracting and had to remind herself to actually tune in to what the training video was saying.
“Welcome to your first day at the warehouse! You must be wondering what your job here as PICKING STAFF ASSISTANT entails! Before you learn more about your important role here, you need to know more about our company...” Sadie already began to feel her eyes glaze over. Oh, she knew the company. She had heard about its human rights violations, about its lawsuits, about its poor employee treatment, about how it couldnt keep anyone employed. Or, at least, she vaguely remembered hearing something along those lines. She had never really been a “news” kind of person. Had she? Isn’t it better to just focus on your own life instead of getting bogged down in overdramatized media networks that only exist to make you mad so you keep tuning in? She should honestly not even listen to all that bad news. After all, it was only her first day on the job, and being pessimistic like that could blind her to the great opportunities the company might provide to her. She nodded to herself, feeling like the thought was novel and fascinating, but also like it had always been there in the back of her mind.
Enough being amused with yourself, Sadie! Pay attention! Sadie scolded herself. It wasn’t like there was a human in the room to ask questions to about anything important she missed. “…In contrast to that misrepresentation, we are now implementing a strategy to increase quality of life for employees like you! This new job quality strategy includes an increased emphasis on employee-to-employee contact, morale maintenance, and a more effortless and streamlined workflow that takes all the worry away from our loyal workers…”
That sounded good. And the footage of workers smiling at each other and smiling towards the camera was really nice. She thought the woman in particular looked way too beautiful to be acting for stock footage, but it’s probably just as tough of an economy for actresses as it is for nobodies who work at warehouses like this. Honestly, Sadie was even starting to picture such a pretty girl working at a warehouse. This job was as good as any, and there was no need to degrade this great company just because it wouldn’t offer her fame or respect. Pretty girls are good for teamwork and morale anyway. Good, pretty girls are great at smiling and nodding and making their coworkers happy. Just like the good, pretty girl on the screen.
“Now that kind of fantastic employee culture is what you’d expect from a great company like this!” Dammit, Sadie! She had spaced out again already. She was trying so hard to be a good, pretty girl, too. It was just so hard to focus! Maybe it was just the way that the slightly-too-loud, distorted audio seemed to make the air in her ears seem to pulse and press on her brain. Or maybe it was the way the shiny video went all flickery and colorful every few minutes. Or… honestly? Maybe she was just a silly girl who was never good at focusing anyway, and that’s why she ended up at a job like this. Maybe she needs to work at this warehouse job because she’s not cut out for anything else. I’m just a silly, pretty girl. This company is the only place a girl like me belongs. Something about that thought made Sadie’s body tingle in an intoxicating way. She fought with the distracting sensation to tune in again.
“..and as you know, a feeling of belonging is essential to employee retention. This is why our management team has worked hard to create a training process that lets you know that it’s okay to be yourself!” Sadie nodded, it was okay to be herself here. I might as well admit to myself that I’m just a silly prettygirl that belongs at this company, she thought to herself as the voice and the video continued to wash over her. It’s okay if I can’t pay attention, that’s how I ended up being a silly prettygirl who belongs here anyway.
The video, in fact, seemed to defy her understanding. She knew it was just a regular training video, but the meaning of the images seemed to slip off of her mind and wash over her body in wave after wave of tingles. “…One of the topics where employee belonging and employee efficiency meet in the middle is the important goal of making sure the male employees throughout our company remain stress-free and efficient...” The voice passed back in and back out of her awareness. Her inability to consciously process the video only meant she was in the right place. She belonged here, so she had finally found a place where she didn’t have to focus in order to do her job. And as a good prettygirl, she had no desire to focus. She only wanted to make the other employees happy. She only wanted to smile and nod and be more of a good, silly prettygirl every day.
“…The strong men in charge of picking and packing goods for shipment are one example of this. These men are a key point where we can maximize our productivity. If they are distracted by non-work-related thoughts, inefficiency can slip in. However, if their physical and emotional needs are met, then they are more likely to remain focused on their task. That’s where you come in, as a PICKING STAFF ASSISTANT…” Sadie knew the video was telling her something, but it was also showing her fascinating footage of important male warehouse workers. They were kind of hot. She giggled to herself a little as images of the men filled her vision, along with flashes of text that she couldn't seem to read.
The voice also continued to pulse into her mind, words only halfway coalescing into meanings that Sadie’s silly brain could consciously process. She vaguely registered that the company wanted her to help the men who do the actual warehouse work in some way. She had to help them focus.
She couldn’t focus at all, though! How could a simple silly prettygirl like Sadie ever assist her coworkers when she gets all distracted like this? Sadie felt anxiety grip in her stomach as her desire to do well for the company fought with her understanding that she ended up here because she couldn’t do complex work, as a weak and ditzy prettygirl.
“Now, you may be feeling upset," the voice gently intoned through the pulsing speakers, "as we tend to select workers that are underqualified for this position." Sadie bit her lip, feeling like the company read her mind somehow.
“Fortunately for you, our company is dedicated to educating and elevating our employees in order to help them meet higher standards and achieve goals they never imagined they could achieve,” the narration offered Sadie a much-needed spark of hope, as she watched footage of dazed-looking, pretty girls jumping and clapping happily in slow motion, their boobies bouncing in celebration, barely contained by their work-appropriate, corporate-color-scheme-compliant tube dress uniforms. She felt happy too, just like the prettygirls on screen, as the video faded back into vague pulses of colors and images she couldn’t quite focus on.
“That’s why, as part of our employee improvement program, we are happy provide further guidance to you through our non-invasive training collar,” the video showed a prettygirl (like Sadie) smiling with a seamless chrome-silver band clasped around her neck. Sadie was so relieved. “With this new technology, you will have a totally stress-free work experience where focusing is never mandatory and being a good prettygirl only requires following basic instructions.” It only made sense. If Sadie wore a training collar, she wouldn’t have to return to the training room again and then work hard to remember all of the complicated stuff the videos told her. All of the important instructions would be right there with her! Her body tingled with how good she felt for understanding that a silly, dumb prettygirl like her needed a training collar to do her job right.
“It’s time for you to begin your first day on the job! At the bottom of this screen, a capsule will dispense. Feel free to stand up and retrieve the capsule now.” In response to the voice’s authoritative pulses, Sadie stood and walked closer to the screen uncertainly. The instructions she just received seemed so clear but her silly head was already losing focus. She needed a collar so badly, otherwise she’d never please the company the way she needed to.
A clattering sound drew Sadie’s attention downward, and she noticed that a clear plastic cylinder had been dispensed into a rectangular slot that was just below the bottom of the screen. Sadie picked up the cylinder.
“Good prettygirl!” the voice said, and Sadie’s body tingled more than it had before, her pussy beginning to feel warmer and wetter than usual. Sadie giggled to herself nervously, feeling so silly for being turned on at a time like this.
The speakers pulsed and buzzed dizzyingly as the voice spoke again, “While you’re up here, please sign your full name on the touchscreen to confirm that you agree with the terms of employment.” The subtly flickering screen showed a scrollable box full of legalese and a box to sign below it. Sadie quickly signed her name, not wanting to get distracted by all the big words that covered the top part of the screen. She was so dizzy and silly and bad at focusing, and she had signed literally hundreds of similar documents without reading before. It would be fine. She just wanted to move on quickly, rather than risk spacing out again and not pleasing the company.
“Now open the capsule and retrieve the collar,” the voice instructed with a commanding pulse. Sadie examined the plastic cylinder hurriedly, desperate to become a better worker for her new employer.
She pulled on either end of the capsule, and it popped open from the center into two plastic halves. As the halves parted, a bundle of fabric tumbled to the floor, and a liquid-shiny silver band remained at the bottom of one of the capsule's halves. Sadie dropped the empty half of the capsule and tipped the band into her hand.
The collar was a strange item— it was a long, thin metal rectangle. One side of it was perfectly smooth, with a chrome finish. The other side had circuitry-like details and strange bumpy patterns. The side with the circuity details had a painted-on text that clearly said “INSIDE.” This collar was obviously made to be used by someone as silly and spacey as Sadie. She felt grateful, and the ambient sound of the speakers buzzed warmly in her very bones.
“Now, turn it so that the text that says INSIDE is facing up and toward the front of your neck—,” Sadie was already good there,— “And press the collar around your neck so that the ends meet on the back of your neck.”
As Sadie raised the collar towards her neck, she hesitated. Something about this training collar seemed a bit odd to her, but she couldn’t place why. The collar seemed to mean something bad to some part of her mind, but all she could imagine was the sight of other collared prettygirls like her happily celebrating in their uniforms as perfect company property. Sadie felt another warm, wet tingle in her cunt, and she took a deep breath to calm her silly brain. She needed to do this in order to please the company, which was the only place that she really belonged. She raised the collar to her neck and began to put it on.
As Sadie pressed the collar to the front of her neck, it seemed to easily bend and form itself around the curve of her neck. She pressed it with her fingers as it bent around the sides of her neck, and followed with her fingers to feel it meet in the back. Where the ends met, they clicked together magnetically, and the extra space between the sealed collar and the back of her neck seemed to slowly disappear as the cold metal tightened against her neck.
Calibrating, the voice said with a now-familiar pulse, but rather than playing over the speakers, it seemed to somehow originate inside Sadie’s neck vertebrae and travel into her skull. Sadie felt her ability to focus slip even further away than usual, receding into a new, colorful, pulsing fog of distraction and dopamine that filled the spaces between her silly thoughts. She knew that letting go of focus was good, because she was a silly prettygirl, and focus was something for the male employees to use, not Sadie. Sadie stood there for an amount of time that didn’t matter to her, feeling her thoughts drift past her formlessly. She had no reason to try to recognize the thoughts. Her pussy was tingly and wet and her brain was buzzing with the joy of belonging.
Belonging to the company.
Please remove your clothes, Sadie’s spine buzzed into her skull. As Sadie’s body complied, Sadie felt like a good employee. Sadie’s practical, plain T shirt and bra were removed quickly by her hands as her silly brain was distracted by the fabric brushing her hard nipples. Her hands apparently removed her pants and panties next, because she vaguely registered her wet pussy meeting cold air. She giggled as her spine buzzed at her to Put on PICKING STAFF ASSISTANT uniform.
She felt very passive and distant as her body was picking up the bundle of shiny, stretchy fabric. Her thoughts seemed far from her, and she felt like the buzz in her spine was closer to her body’s actions than she was. Yet, somehow, all of it was smooth and effortless and amorphous and rewarding.
As she stepped into her dress and shimmied it up onto her body, a buzz in her skull notified her that heels would be more appropriate to wear to work than the boring sneakers she had worn to day 1. This information didn’t surprise Sadie, since it was installed into her mind more firmly than her own name. It was foundational, essential autobiographical information, along with the fact that she should continuously improve her appearance using her paycheck. And, of course, central to her identity was her job title, PICKING STAFF ASSISTANT/PRETTYGIRL, FULFILLMENT CENTER LOCATION 13, NUMBER 25. Girl 13-25, for short.
Sadie (Girl 13-25) ran her hands over her body to make sure her dress was hugging her body smoothly and not preventing access to her holes and cleavage. Having her fuckable parts exposed was only professional, in the same way that having a sexy plastic body would be more professional. The collar buzzed deep inside her psyche as (Sadie) Girl 13-25 thought about how much the company’s colors and logo turned her on and made her feel ready to be used by the company’s essential male employees.
Girl 13-25’s body buzzed with desire as she turned toward the door and opened it. She only barely managed to wonder in her silly head where the buzzing desire was taking her before the thought was abstracted into colorful shapes that sank into the fog. She giggled as her tits and ass wobbled precariously at both ends of the tube dress that clearly labeled her as company property. Girl 13-25 loved feeling her body sway sexily as it automatically brought her out of the room and down a hallway.
Girl 13-25 opened a door to a room full of other prettygirls just like her, who stood facing various directions, looking dazed and periodically giggling. She entered the room and closed the door behind her. Before she could really get her bearings in this new room of fellow employees, the buzzing in her skull began to pulse distractingly and irresistibly. She giggled vacantly as the room escaped her focus.
After an unknown amount of time, a door on the other side of the room opened, and a buzz rippled through all of the girls as they turned and got into a single-file line. Girl 13-25 felt the world slowly return to her as her body marched with the other girls into a larger room where several men stood chatting quietly. Even as the line of girls stopped walking and turned to face the men, the men were already taking girls aside.
Girl 13-25, fully distracted by her excitement, felt her eyes glaze over and defocus whenever she tried to recognize a man’s face. Information entered her with a helpful buzz. She realized that she didn’t need to know who the men were outside of work. She already knew they were very important company employees, and as company property it was her job to help relieve them of their distractions. Her silly brain stopped attempting to recognize the men just as one of them approached her.
The man began fondling Girl 13-25’s breasts. She looked down at the worker’s hands pushing aside her sexy company-compliant dress to feel up her sexy company-compliant titties, and the sight made her body pulse and buzz. She moved closer to him and whined incoherently as her hands helpfully reached to undo his pants and free his dick. The man’s face, which she failed to recognize, seemed pleased as she stroked his engorged penis.
The man gently pushed Girl 13-25 downward by her shoulders and she felt a wholly artificial sense of dejavu as she instinctively knelt and took his cock into her mouth. The buzzing in her spine seemed to press the memory of the moment into her core memories at the same time as it was happening, producing the sensation that she had been in this exact place before countless times, sucking the sweaty cock of a warehouse worker like it was her life’s purpose. The waves of pulsing dejavu synced up with the rhythm of the man roughly fucking her face hole, and she felt like her mind was being pounded from the inside and outside by the buzz and the scent of his pubes and the feeling that she was doing the only thing she was capable of... at the only job she would ever be good at... for the only company she would ever belong to.
When the man began to cum in Girl 13-25’s throat, it felt like something popped in her brain, causing all of the uncomfortable pressure to rush away. A pulse of brand-colored GOOD JOB! lit up inside her, and she felt her body shudder. Her throat happily swallowed around the worker’s dick as it spasmed, filling her stomach with her reward. She had perfectly fulfilled her purpose as company equipment.
The man spoke to Girl 13-25 as he pulled his cock out of her messy face hole, but she didn’t bother to focus on his words. The collar would record and process anything important, and she just let the buzz pour into her body and decide how she would move. “Thank you sir!” Girl 13-25 responded, as the company must have required her to do. The man laughed and moved away from her into the crowd, and she couldn’t keep up with which of the workers was the one who had just used her.
She felt herself sink back into a haze as she kneeled where the worker had left her. She buzzed with pleasure knowing that her tits were out. Colorful confetti floated in her brain, providing her with dopamine to reinforce a job well done. Thanks to her training collar, Girl 13-25 was already a successful fucktoy on the first day of her job. That didn’t quite make sense to her, since the memory of having her face fucked was so core to her identity that she figured it must have been going on for years, but the confusion made her feel like a silly, good pretty girl. She liked that.
Girl 13-25 giggled to herself, dribbling drool mixed with cum onto her tits, before losing track of time and place once more. Around her, company-provided prettygirls were being fucked by workers to help relieve stress. Other prettygirls stood compliantly in line, where the company’s electronic management system had dropped them off. A few sat, laid, and kneeled covered in cum where they had been used and left. They giggled and sighed periodically and gazed contentedly into space as they waited to be either used again by the workers or moved by the company's electronic management system, whichever happened first.
LuLu didn’t realize just how well her conditioning was working until she made a conscious effort to resist it–just the once, just to prove to herself that she didn’t need to obey her Master’s instructions to get herself off. She slid the Bluetooth vibrator into her slick pussy and turned on one of her favorite patterns, then took the lovely little handheld massaging wand Master gave her for her birthday and rubbed it up and down her labia, concentrating the whole time on keeping her tongue inside her mouth and her eyes staring straight ahead. No matter how much better it made everything feel, she promised herself, she wouldn’t make… that one particular face.
But as always, the moment LuLu started thinking about the expression she wasn’t about to allow herself to make, the name popped into her lust-drunk brain and wouldn’t go away. Ahegao. A look of utter, vacuous stupidity, the look of a mindless fucktoy who’d given up on thinking and was letting their cunt make all the decisions for them. Tongue out like a drooling bitch in heat, eyes crossed in blank, helpless arousal, a face that exemplified horny sluts like her so completely that it almost parodied them. LuLu blinked hard, struggling with the effort of holding her gaze steady on the far wall. She… she knew Master would let her masturbate without showing off her dumb horny ahegao face. He just made it feel so much better when she did.
But… but LuLu could feel the effect it was having on her. She knew that he was subtly programming her every time she sank into orgasmic bliss for him and allowed her hypnotized mind to drift off into pleasure instead of paying attention to his warm, comfortable voice. She knew that when she made herself look dumb, it tricked her muzzy, mazy brain into believing that she really was the kind of stupid slut who couldn’t think about anything beyond her next orgasm. She knew that her ahegao faces slowed down her thoughts into sluggish confusion, and every time she tumbled down that slippery slope into bubbly vapidity it took her longer and longer to climb out of it. She… she liked it, of course she did, she wouldn’t keep coming back to Master if she didn’t, but LuLu wanted to show that she could stop. If she had to.
Because if she couldn’t… oh god, if she couldn’t… then that would mean that it wasn’t just a game anymore. That would mean that she was really being turned into a stupid slut by Master’s brainwashing, and the constant ache between her legs for another climax was just part of the same conditioning that left her drooling on the couch with her eyes crossed and her tongue sticking out while she fucked herself ever more empty and obedient for her owner. If she couldn’t stop herself from going all ahegao, LuLu would have to confront the simple truth that whatever trick her subconscious was playing to make her dumber and deeper and wetter and weaker, it was working. And that would be….
Oh fuck. That would be so, so fucking hot. LuLu felt her jaw slacken, her tongue slowly beginning to loll out in vacant arousal even as her gaze centered in on the bridge of her own nose. She could test Master’s control next time, she thought absently. Right now she just wanted to fuck herself nice and stupid for him. LuLu’s pussy clenched hard around the toy as she made herself cum that much harder for her owner.
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It’s the look she gives you that’s going to haunt you for the rest of your life. Her face is blank and expressionless–well, it would be, there’s only so much emoting you can do when your mouth is formed into a wide circle around the endlessly thrusting cock of a total stranger. But when she opens her eyes and stares at you, there’s a hint of blank, bewildered astonishment behind those bright blue irises that speaks volumes. Iris knows that she’s lying on her back in one of the guest bedrooms of a house she’s only visiting, naked and getting skull-fucked by a random guy so hard that his balls smack into her upper lip with every thrust. She just… doesn’t know why.
You do. You arrived fashionably late for the party, and parking was intolerably difficult and the walk to the front door intensely uncomfortable in your high heels. You took what you assumed was a shortcut across the grounds and came upon two men smoking cigarettes outside and discussing who they were going to pick once the subliminals in the music took effect and the women inside started ‘gagging for it’… and that was the exact term they used. 'Gagging for it’. There was something so crude and nakedly lustful about the choice of phrase that you were suddenly, terrifyingly relieved that you always avoided smokers. A simple instinct kept you out of their sight, and to this day you can’t help wondering what might have happened to you if you hadn’t.
Instead you hung back, thoughts of looking for another way in replaced by a desperate need to learn everything you could about what was happening inside. The men talked freely, half-drunk and filled with lewd anticipation for the pleasures to come. They discussed their good luck at having a social connection with Harold Gatling, the host of the party who you only knew third-hand at best, and their excitement at being let loose into whole rooms full of young, pretty women who had no idea that their brains were being scrambled by the cutting edge in mind control technology. One of them said he wanted to use it on his wife next. The other said he’d be taking a few girls home with him to keep. You thought you recognized their voices from the office. You hoped to hell you were wrong.
It occurred to you that Iris was at the party, and despite your very real and justified fears of what might happen if you went inside you knew you couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t go looking for her. She was an old friend, if not a close one, and you felt like you couldn’t simply leave her to soak up the music and absorb the hidden programming. It sounded like a few minutes of exposure wouldn’t mess with your mind too much, and as long as you went in and out quickly you were probably safe. Nonetheless, you took some tissues out of your purse and tore them up to make improvised earplugs before you slipped in through the side entrance.
It took you very little time to find her. Most of the men were thankfully too preoccupied to worry about privacy, and they made enough noise to give you a clear idea of their whereabouts without any real effort. You caught up with Iris in one of the spare bedrooms, getting her face plowed by a cock she can barely get her lips around and looking at you in helpless confusion. And now you’re standing there watching her, feeling the invisible timer in your head ticking down your last few moments of safety, knowing you have to leave soon. But if you try to get her out of here, the men will notice you. They’ll keep you here until the music takes effect and you’re just another blank-eyed sex toy for them to fuck… and you can’t risk that.
You turn to leave. And the shocked, bewildered look in those bright blue eyes stays with you.
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Hehe🥴💫 Hi everyone! Just a reminder for the #hypnogiveaway in my OF this Wednesday! Join for a chance to win!❤️There are even more prizes! Including sessions,hypno cosplay photos and videos, and more! 💕
’({*})’ The message popped up at the top of Kathy’s screen while she was watching a video, drawing her attention away from the action at the bottom of the screen almost instantly. She stared at it for a moment, not quite certain how to respond to the abstract little emoticon at first. Then her thumb absently tapped the notification, switching apps, and her lips spread into a wide, blissful smile. She leaned back, putting one leg up on the couch cushions and leaving the other on the floor. Her right hand drifted down to her pink panties, beginning to tease her pussy through the worn cotton fabric almost without even realizing it. Her eyes focused with an almost magnetic intensity onto the chat window, and she began to type with her free hand.
‘I am allonne and avalabl’, she tapped out, sending the message with little red squiggles still highlighting her spelling errors. It wasn’t important to correct them, she knew, not when she was talking to… talking to… talking to this particular person, her brain supplied vaguely. They knew that she didn’t have both hands free to text right now, and they knew that she was, was… distracted. Kathy felt very distracted right now, in fact, so distracted that she couldn’t even pay attention on what was distracting her. Her breath came in short, whimpering gasps, and her mind thrummed with a pleasure that came from everywhere and nowhere all at once. She kept looking back up at that little symbol, the ’({*})’, her attention drawn straight to the little asterisk that she somehow imagined to be wet and throbbing and swollen with ecstasy.
It didn’t take long to get a response. 'Are you rubbing for me, pretty girl?’ Kathy’s vision swam for a moment as she felt a swell of pride welling up deep inside her brain. She was so happy to know that she was doing exactly the right thing just now, even if she didn’t know how she knew it was right or even precisely what it was. She just knew she felt good and useful and happy and fulfilled, and she wanted that feeling to keep going. Her fingers stroked a surface of warm, wet cotton that she’d polished to a satiny sheen over time, and underneath them her body quivered with hot, tingling bliss, but she didn’t really notice. She didn’t need to notice to answer the question. She only needed to follow her instincts like a good slut.
'rrubing now yes’, she texted, unable to make herself reply with anything more coherent. It was too hard to think of anything clever to say at the moment; Kathy’s mind was descending into a cotton candy mist filled with slick, syrupy pleasure, and she couldn’t really keep her thoughts on anything for more than a few moments at a time. One second her attention was drifting down to her wet panties, the next back up to the little ’({*})’ symbol that had scrolled up near the top of her screen, the next to the name associated with the chat window that she struggled harder and harder to read only to fail so deliciously. Kathy liked struggling. She liked failing. She liked everything that happened to her when she was a good girl like this.
'Keep rubbing, slut,’ the response came back. 'I’ll be over soon. Make sure the door is unlocked.’ Kathy already knew it was. She always left it unlocked when she was at home by herself like this, just in case she got an unexpected text and needed to spend her time staring and sinking and playing with her soft, slick pussy. She didn’t know that was the reason, of course, but that was the wonderful thing abut the ’({*})’ emoticon. It always reminded Kathy of everything she so happily, eagerly forgot.
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oh yeah… he was picking up speed now
“That good, baby? You like that?”
oh yeah
“Feel me fucking you right up your spine?”
wait… no. not that hypnosis crap again…
“Deeply… running up your back into-”
no. not again…
“It’s so good though. Hard! Right up your spine. Fucking…”
n-no… I don’t like… like being…
“You like be fucked out.”
no… i don’t… i-
“You like be fucked out.”
like…
“You like be fucked out.”
like being fucked…
“You like be fucked out.”
fucked… out…
“Good girl… I’m fucking you out.”
fucked… out…
“Blurry now… Fuck out…”
blurry… fucked… out…
“Hard to think now. You can’t think.”
cant think
“Fucked out.”
out
“Cum.”
cum
“CUM!”
cummmmnmnmnmm… .. .
“You are fucked out.”
… … …
“Good girl.”
… …
…
..
.
This is a legacy post from my old blog reformatted for the new era. A more detailed and full version of this One Shot GIF can be found HERE.
Nancy slowly, carefully inched her fingers into the waistband of her panties, seeking out her clit with all the delicacy of a safecracker listening for each individual tumbler dropping into place. Her other hand went tightly over her mouth in a makeshift gag; she knew she didn’t dare scream–they’d find her if she screamed–but if she lost control and let out a tiny involuntary whimper then this might save her. She was alone in the bathroom, she had her back to the door… it was time to let out some of this pent-up sexual energy before it forced her into a mistake the way it did with the others.
The others. She could think about them now, here in the privacy of this quiet little room with a few minutes of mental space to herself. She could think about the way that Barry squirmed and wriggled his way deeper into his little hiding space between the cubicle wall and the building wall, only to get distracted by the constant contact between the tent in his jeans and the fabric covered surface. They found him when he groaned, and she could only watch as they tore apart the maze of wooden frameworks to get to him. Within moments, they’d shredded his clothing away from his body to give themselves free and open access to his throbbing cock. He… he didn’t last long after that.
And then there was Miranda. Poor fucking Miranda, who must have been more vulnerable to the pheromone mists than the rest of them. While they were all looking for places to hide, she seemed confused and distracted, almost like she was seeking out the source of some unheard music. She stumbled around in circles, heedless of the thunderous pounding that told the rest of them the pack was getting closer, and when they found her she’d already given in and started rubbing herself through her clothes. By the time those claws sliced expertly through the fabric, leaving Miranda nude and whimpering with arousal, she already had the glassy-eyed look of one of their concubines. She didn’t last long after that, either.
Nobody lasted long out in the open. Once they got those weird, glowing eyes fixated on you, well… it was so long free will, hello to a lifetime of mindless sexual slavery. Nancy wondered if it was perhaps a part of their life cycle, some sort of breeding impulse that required a human uterus to carry their embryos–but if that was the case, why go after Barry? Why go down on all eights and lick his cock with that long, prehensile tongue of theirs? Maybe they just liked sex. Maybe the human race had made so much incredible porn over the decades that even aliens knew how much the dominant species here liked to fuck, and this was just their equivalent of sex tourism.
Maybe… maybe it was pointless to speculate. They were here, they were strong and fast and hunted by sound, and if they found you there was no escape. Nancy’s only choice was to stay hidden, stay quiet, and keep masturbating every time the urges got too strong to resist. She let out a muffled gasp as her pussy clenched around her rubbing fingers, the only outward sign of an orgasm made impossibly intense by the fog of sex that filled the air everywhere now. Then, slowly and carefully, she slid her fingers out and began planning her next move.
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Abigail never understood quite how they always knew. She didn’t think she looked any different from other women–she wore her dark hair long and straight, and the shape of her deep brown eyes probably made it clear that her mom’s mom came from Hong Kong back in ‘57, but there had to be plenty of people in the Pacific Northwest with similar ancestry and none of them ever got… mmm. Mmmmmmm. God, his thumb tasted so good in her mouth. Abigail couldn’t stop sucking it once she started. He cupped her chin and led her with just the lightest tug through the parking lot to his car, and for some reason she didn’t even try to stop him.
Because he knew. That was the thing that kept perplexing Abigail, even as her head began to bob up and down on the proffered digit and her eyes crossed once, twice, and finally rolled back all the way until only the whites showed. He didn’t ask her if she was the kind of woman who would react to a thumb pressed against her lips with a low, liquid moan of pure ecstasy and an enthusiastic lick that turned into some kind of lewd display of oral fixation. He didn’t say, “Gee, I wonder if you’re the sort of slut who gets all suckdrunk and stupid every time someone pushes something into that drooly mouth of yours.” He just… he knew. He knew how vulnerable it made her. How easily and effortlessly she became a thoughtless, compliant toy for anyone who gave her something to suck on. How?
W-was it her outfit? She wasn’t wearing anything especially sexy. Was it something she wore? It did seem to happen more when she had her nose ring in, but she could remember times when some man would just look at her… look at her and push his thumb into her mouth… p-push his thumb into her mouth and make her all, all horny and needy and fuzzy and b-b-blank… make her blank and, and guide her, oh f-fuck, guide her down to her knees, right here in the parking lot, oh god, anyone could see her if they walked by… guide her to her knees and give her something else. To suck. And she wouldn’t be able to resist, because sucking felt so good. Abigail’s eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open in the face of wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure.
They just knew. Like it was written on her face, like her identity was on some kind of secret database of Obedient Cocksluts and every man in town had access. Some days Abigail couldn’t get more than halfway through the parking lot before some guy saw her heading to the grocery store and decided her time was better served with her mouth wrapped around his shaft until warm, wet, sticky cum splattered onto her tongue. And her cunt leaking with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal, Abigail would give in and go along. Because she really was that needy and vulnerable and helpless for anyone who filled her slutty face. She didn’t know why, but that didn’t concern her. She just wanted to know why it was so fucking obvious to everyone.
If she knew, she could hide it. She could pretend she wasn’t a suckslut, at least long enough to get through her day. She could go out at night, find men to give her the oral orgasms she craved. She could choose who made her blank and mindless and horny for a good hard face-fucking, a nice deep-dicking all the way d-down her… her throat…. Abigail went away for a little while into pleasure. She came back with cum dripping down her chin. And she stumbled to her feet and tried hard, without any success at all, not to show how much she loved it.
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“Driving you down. Deeper and deeper.” The words come accompanied by a powerful thrust each time, sliding all the way into Ryan’s ass until he can feel Master’s balls smacking against his perineum, stimulating his prostate and forcing his aching shaft to slide back and forth against the silken sheets. “Claiming you. Owning you. Taking your mind. Taking your body. You’re mine now. You’re my slut. My bitch. My slave. You can’t fight it. You can’t resist. Every time you try. I fuck your mind away. More and more. Deeper and deeper. My cock in your mind. My cock in your brain.”
Ryan grips the edge of the bed, his fingers tangling into the silk fabric as his eyes squeeze tightly shut under the onslaught of sensation that makes it simply impossible to think. He can feel Master’s hands, possessively resting on his back and hip, lightly holding him in place so that Master’s cock can keep driving into him with thrust after long, hard, pounding thrust. It’s almost astonishing to him how little it takes to hypnotize him into blank, submissive pleasure–just two hands, the weight of Master’s body on top of him, and that powerful shaft in his ass. “Fucking your resistance out. Fucking you deeper. Making you mine.”
Ryan lets out a long, ragged sigh, his whole mind focused on the pleasure that courses through him with every thrust. It’s all he can do not to cum; the constant pounding keeps pushing him back and forth against the mattress, and the smooth silk strokes his dripping, needy shaft like a lover’s caress. But he knows that if he cums, he’s just going to release more of his resistance, more of his willpower and self-determination, leaving him even weaker and more submissive to Master’s control. He’s been there countless times, lying on the bed and feeling the cum-soaked sheets against his belly while Master fucks him deeper into subjugation. “Deeper into defeat. Deeper into obedience.” He can’t let it happen again, not if he wants to be free.
But then it hits Ryan, the same way it hits him every single time. “You want to be mine. You want to give up. You want to cum for me.” If he wants to be free, he can’t cum. So if he wants to cum, that means he must not want to be free. The logic is elegant, simple, and utterly inescapable, and it makes Ryan’s balls tighten in desperate urgency as Master’s cock teases his prostate over and over with every thrust. If Master makes Ryan cum, makes him shoot his load like a horny teenager who doesn’t even know how to control his ejaculations, then he must want to be controlled. He must secretly, deep down, want to be an obedient brainwashed sex toy for his Master’s cock. It all makes perfect sense.
That’s why he keeps coming back to this hotel room every weekend. That’s why he takes off his clothes, lies down on his belly on the mattress, closes his eyes and waits for the door to open. That’s why he’s always so passive and meek while Master lubes up his ass to be fucked. Because he wants to be a mindless, horny fucktoy for Master. Because he wants to obey. Because he’s nothing but a horny, slutty bitch for Master and he can’t fight the pleasure it brings to be owned. “My fucking slave,” Master growls, and Ryan’s cock spurts helplessly against his belly as he finds himself gushing out his resistance yet again.
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“I o-erm… Iobey.” You said the words quickly, and your face flushed. Your heart raced. That word just… Made you feel so very flustered. You didn’t meet their gaze, and your hypnotist leant forwards.
“What’s wrong? You’ve told me that you love to obey before.”
“Yeah, but. That, that was whilst I was in trance.” You blushed even harder, you could feel the heat rising in your face.
“And? Do you think you’re only a good obedient toy whilst in trance?” They took a finger and traced it along your cheek, down to your chin.
Your eyes followed the finger, up the arm, and came to rest back on them, back on their eyes. “No.”
Their look turned sterner. Holding you, pinned by their gaze. “So, what’s different?”
You squirmed, unable to look away from their eyes, mind feeling a little fuzzy. “N-nothing. It just makes me feel flustered.”
They smiled, their arm dropped away from your chin, and they leant back. “Okay, sweetness. In which case, lets help you get over that. Does that sound nice?” You nodded, still looking into their eyes. They snapped their fingers, and you dropped.
* * *
And you were back up. Feeling fuzzy. They smiled at you. “How are you doing, toy?”
Your mouth moved automatically. “I obey.” That familiar feeling of flushing didn’t come. But… That’s not what you meant to say. You tried again. “I obey.” And as realisation dawned, they giggled.
“Now now pet, don’t pout. It’s not going to be forever… Just as long as it takes to feel natural. I mean, what do you do?”
“I obey.” You felt a different sort of flush rise. Arousal. The lack of control was all sorts of fun, and as the rest of the afternoon continued, that arousal would continue to rise.
Pauline’s fingers slipped into the waistband of her lacy panties, and she let out a tiny hiss of arousal as she began to rub up and down her soft pink labia. She began to summon up an idea in her head–nothing consequential, just a daydream about getting the garden ready for spring–and tried to hold it in her mind while she slowly teased her wet pussy. It was getting hungry, after all. It needed to be fed. And after all this time, Pauline knew very well that if she didn’t give it some thoughts to suck out of her brain, it would simply take them instead.
The garden looked good in Pauline’s daydream; she had ideas about planting gardenias, maybe in the bed where she grew obedients last year… but she could feel arousal nibbling at the edges of her thoughts, twisting ‘bed’ and 'obedients’ into slow, sultry fantasies about being obedient in bed, and she knew that her cunt was swallowing up her mind bit by crumbling bit. She reached up and squeezed her breast with her free hand, tweaking and pinching the nipple as her arousal gradually took over her brain and emptied it into the hungry void between her thighs. Soon she wouldn’t be able to think at all. She’d just rub herself like a vacant, horny slut and give all her will up to her wet pussy.
Thankfully, its eyes were always bigger than its stomach. Even when Pauline descended into slack-jawed, drooling emptiness, her mind on nothing more than her rubbing, thrusting fingers, she knew that her cunt couldn’t simply devour all her thoughts forever and leave her nothing but a blank-eyed masturbating fuckdoll. She’d come back out of the deep sexual trance her pussy put her into… but she knew from experience that she’d come back a little bit slower. A little bit simpler. A little bit more obsessed with all the things her cunt loved, like sex and submission and fucking and teasing and big thick vibrators throbbing away against her slutty clit and getting stretched by a whole fist until she looked down to see Mistress’s wrist emerging from her soaking–“GNNNH!” she squealed, her first orgasm swallowing the fantasy whole.
She… she needed to come up with thoughts to feed to her cunt. She needed to give it parts of her so it didn’t take the important ones, like… like… like Pauline didn’t know, because they weren’t there anymore. Some things were just gone forever, erased by the constant pulse of sexual heat between her thighs, and she didn’t even know what was missing but she knew they were gone because sometimes she’d try to think and she’d just feel a warm, wet throb of arousal between her legs instead as she realized she’d gotten close to one of the parts of her brain that her cunt had swallowed up. And then she’d need to masturbate all over again. Her cunt was getting so strong these days. If she wasn’t careful, someday it would eat her whole.
And then she’d become nothing but a mindless, hypnotized slave for Mistress. She’d just squat on the bed with her legs spread whenever she wasn’t needed, rubbing her slutty pussy and emptying out her brain as quickly as the new thoughts tried to form, blank and drooling and completely in the thrall of her hungry cunt. She’d be an eager, obedient slut, a horny fucktoy without a single notion inside her vacant little head, and she… she… Pauline tried to remember why that was a bad thing, but all she felt was a warm, wet throb of arousal between her thighs that made her want to rub the rest of her will away for Mistress.
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