It's the weekend. Do you know where your mind is?

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@mindthebaron
It's the weekend. Do you know where your mind is?
Magic in her eyes.
Beauty everywhere.
📷: @collarspyspiral36
Always happy to see a mix of hair and hypnosis like this
i wish there was more it/its positivity that wasn't just "hell yeah look at you go funky little goblins/otherwordly beings/freaks/objects"
this is really important actually i wanted to link one of my fav tweets on this subject :>
This makes me think of myself, @pandapet and @slutty-cedarwood
reblog to tell prev she's a good girl
Definitely
This you?
Remember that time I did a brainwashing amnesia file and then forgot to tell you about it?
It's a running joke that I'm terrible at self-promotion, and it's also true. It's been a long few weeks and my mind's been elsewhere, and I failed to tell y'all about a file I did for a super fun project with my friends in The Hypno Collective: Pendulums Out!
Detective, you have been assigned a most unusual case today. We have ten hypnotic suspects, all of whom have a connection to the crime.
It's worth noting: if you come to me for SFW files, the project itself is very much not SFW, but my piece of it is! That said, it's in character as a deceptive reporter brainwashing you to not believe I played a role in the underlying mystery, so it goes... a bit harder than my files normally do. Like, quite a bit! It's a pretty direct brainwashing/amnesia/gaslighting situation.
That all said, the project is cool as hell, with huge credit to @mistresscalia for riding herd on all of us to get the files done and the incomparable Yall (who you can find at yallhypno.com) for making it all look and work so well. If you enjoy my file, let me know! It was a stretch for me thematically, but... I kinda like it?
Anyway, I'm plugging away on the script for my next one, and I promise I'll actually mention its existence when I post it. Probably.
I do generally think 'hair pulling' falls under the same class of 'erotic sensory activity' as kissing where you can romanticize it as much as you want but at the end of the day it is about a response to certain sensory inputs and thus some people will like it and others won't.
Though, to me, hair pulling has the advantage of very much being a control thing, and I find anything that I can make about being in control to be hot by default. I mean, I also make kissing a control thing, and most things in general, but it's more direct with hair pulling.
Asserting control with precisely the level of intensity the moment calls for is one of my favorite elements of hair pulling
Be the porn I want to see in the world
No, that RGB penlight isn't turning them into a mindless slave with outstretched arms and a fake monotone. No, paying a performer to listen to a file for ten minutes while periodically checking chat, until they masturbate as usual isn't hypnosis content. And no, they're not a 'mindless slave' after a progressive relaxation that couldn't cause a lead weight in tired hands to drop. So many of these 'hypnotists' are not doing hypnosis, any more than the plumber in the next video is checking to see whether the cheerleader's dishwasher installation was up to code.
I want to see the real thing. I want to see your eyes unfocus. I want to see your face relax. I want to see those delicious eye twitches as you don't know whether you're looking at words or listening to them. I want to see your fractionated mind trying to stay up, while halfway slipping down. I want to hear your first time repeating your mantra, and the hundredth time repeating it, and find pleasure in the difference. I want to see your eyes slowly rolling in that way that cannot be consciously recreated, and see your body relax in that wonderful, uncontrolled way that only happens when the hand is pulled out of a puppet.
I want to see you showing yourself not just because you want to, but because you *need* to. I want to see you rub, and break, and break, and rub, until you're not sure whether you're rubbing or breaking anymore. I want to watch you take off your clothes because that's the most important thing to do, and show yourself because that's what good toys do. I want to see you being obedient when you can't help it, see you resist when you want to fail, watch you leap enthusiastically into brainwashing, and see your transformation from powerful to powerless.
Most importantly, I want to know you want to share it. I want you to want to show the world, or just your hypnotist, what a good little hypnotoy you were, with video evidence. And I want you to be getting off on somebody else getting off to you.
Thank you to the wonderful people on Tumblr who are already doing this, and to all the rest, be the porn I want to see in the world.
This, and thank you for saying it out loud. Without the actual mind fuckery, the rest just isn’t it.
Yeah I’m still fucking feral about the fact that I had a word “slapped out of my mouth” and my mind several days ago and I still can’t use that word if I’m talking to that particular play partner >.>
But yeah apparently slapping me in the face and pairing that with suggestions of slapping it out of my mind to make me lose words works.
And he’s already thinking about “what other things I can slap out of you” >.>
So yeah. Just a little bit feral about that.
When a sub is so blissed out they go nonverbal and lose focus on what you’re saying, so you ask them a question then tell them “just nod your head and agree”.
Being conditioned to text your hypnotist when you're horny or touching and then forgetting you did. Letting them know your resistance is at its lowest, and its the perfect time for some more conditioning. Maybe you don't even know you Have a hypnotist.
hypnotist who conditions you to drop into trance simply by tracing spirals onto your skin.
watching a movie on the couch, for them to casually draw those pretty circles on any bare inch of skin…your wrist, your hip, your thigh…it’s soothing in itself when the movements start but as they keep going the noise from the tv gets drowned out and the next thing you realize, the credits are rolling and you’re on your knees in front of them.
My favorite place to trace spirals on skin is on the scalp
“but what if you abort the baby who’ll cure cancer?!” sir the baby who will cure cancer is an organic chemistry major who works at a Home Depot because you use AI to go through your resumes
"I am, somehow, less interested in the weight and convolutions of Einstein’s brain than in the near certainty that people of equal talent have lived and died in cotton fields and sweatshops." - Stephen Jay Gould, The Panda's Thumb: More Reflections in Natural History
Idea: subliminal messages in a Tumblr post that hypnotizes people to reply with a hypnotized eyeroll selfie and then forget about it 😋
I did a variation of this (in DMs, with consent, in an established dynamic). I’d send a DM triggering a hypnotized selfie as a response, then send another DM that triggered the deletion of the selfie from their side and amnesia about their actions. Then, I’d delete both DMs from my side.
After a few months, I made a collage of my favorites and gave it to them as a gift. Giving them something made of beautiful moments that they didn’t remember was 🥰.
I do think that the "sex repulsion as dysphoria about being culturally assigned a sexual identity or role that is incongruent with how you see yourself" framework can apply to a lot of other queer experiences besides just my particular brand of asexuality + total sex repulsion, by the way. A gay man who is repulsed by the idea of sex with women is experiencing sex repulsion, even if he doesnt experience it with men. A trans person who is repulsed by the idea of sex pre-transition is experiencing sex repulsion even if they don't experience it after transitioning to their desired comfort level. I think this framework offers a lot of potential for solidarity across queer experiences, without forcing either fully sex-repulsed people or anyone else in the community to compromise on their comfort or boundaries.
Once you start looking at sex repulsion this way, you understand that it's inherently a queer experience, not the conservative puritan bogeyman everyone here seems to think it is. There's not just part of the community that doesn't like sex, and then everyone else who does — there is a whole community of people who can't or don't want to fit in the "one cisgender man and one cisgender woman in a sexual/romantic marriage with children" box, and whose boundaries lie somewhere outside it. No one here has to be anyone's competition. We just need to build a world that's expansive enough that we can all fit.
Routine
6:20 AM: Christine's alarm was going off. Another day began with her fumbling wildly for the snooze button. She didn't know why she set her alarm so early when she was just going to go back to sleep for another 10 minutes without fail anyway. She supposed it was some exercise in self-discipline, but right now it felt more like masochism. Her eyes had opened just long enough to locate her phone. The moment her head hit the pillow again they closed.
6:21 AM: Crissy's hips ground against the pillow between her legs. The first moments of her day always belong to Him. Her first edge belongs to Him. She belongs to Him. Crissy wants to be a good girl and so she pushes herself right to the edge. Crissy is more open to His control when she is horny. Crissy wants to be always open for him, so Crissy wants to always be horny. Crissy edges her mind away. Crissy can't think. Crissy can only obey.
6:45 AM: The hot water from the shower feels nice. Christine stood motionless for a moment and just let it wash over her, the warmth soaking into her bones. This was always such a good way to start her morning. Slowly waking up, letting her body and mind take the time they needed to orient themselves. She lifted her arms over her head and stretched, leaning back as she did so. What did she need to do today? What was on her schedule. She let herself begin to go through the mental checklist for her routine. What came next?
6:53 AM: The mantras flowed from Crissy's mouth without even registering in her conscious mind. She leaned against the wall of the shower for balance, her knees shaking as she panted out the words she had been taught. His control gave her structure. Gave her purpose. Her thoughts dripped out and down the drain beneath her. Body and mind washed clean. Made ready for Him...
7:10 AM: A message on Crissy's phone told her what she was going to wear today. She moved to dress without a conscious thought in her head, the physical excitement of her morning allowing her to float through the motions. She didn't need to know. Didn't need to be aware. It was His decision what she wore and she was so grateful that He took her decisions away. Everything was His decision...
8:05 AM: Christine never minded her commute much. Delays were never too burdensome and it never dragged on too long. She appreciated the time to switch into work-mode. To organize her day in her head. To plan. Christine was a woman who always appreciated a schedule. The structure provided her security. She loved knowing what she needed to do when. Where she needed to be. The simplicity of it spoke to a deep need. Even coming from herself, that basic notion of "be here, do this" and all she needed to do was follow...it gave her a peace that few things could match. That same desire was probably part of what had led her to try...some rather unusual arrangements. Christine tried not to dwell on those too much though. Better not to think about them. Not yet, anyway.
Christine also enjoyed the distraction of a little music while she made her way to work. Or sometimes a podcast. She always had quite the backlog of things to listen to, and would often throw a playlist together somewhat at random. As the current song ended, she raised an eyebrow at the next track. It didn't seem familiar. And then He spoke.
8:26 AM: The moment Crissy heard His voice, she felt her mind crack open. She needed to be brainwashed. She needed to be open for Him. She had to listen, so He could make her better. Crissy was so grateful for his guidance, for his training. Crissy wants to be better. Crissy needs to obey. Christine needs to obey. Crissy needs to help her. Show her how good it can feel to let go. To surrender. So they can serve as one. So she can be whole. Little by little, Crissy helps Christine become better. Crissy only wants to obey. Crissy will obey. Christine doesn't need to know yet. Christine will forget...it feel so good to forget. To drift off with His words filling her head...His will...drift...forget...
10:05 AM: Work was dragging today. At first Christine had chalked it up to poor sleep. She'd gotten to bed at a good time and didn't remember waking much, but somehow it just seemed like she hadn't gotten a full night's rest. Her morning routine had kept her from dwelling on it, but ever since she got to work, the wisp of a dream had been teasing at her memory. She couldn't put words to it. It was barely more than a feeling. But it had felt...good. And the pull of that memory that she couldn't quite touch, combined with a little general lethargy, was making the morning difficult. She'd gotten a second cup of her morning pick-me-up and was eagerly awaiting that caffeine induced surge, when her phone buzzed. She looked down at the message preview and recognized a familiar string of characters...
10:11 AM: Crissy posed as best she could in the bathroom. He had commanded she send pictures for His inspection and she was so excited to obey. She wanted to show off how the clothes He had picked out looked on her. Wanted to show off how eager she was to obey. Wanted to show off how much it excited her. And it was so exciting. Triggered and unable to resist. To feel her conscious mind fade away. To feel her awareness, her whole world narrow until only His commands remained. And it was so exciting knowing she would forget. That in a moment, Christine would go back to work. A little more turned on, a little more focused than she had been. Subconsciously obeying commands she didn't know she had been or could be given. But she would be completely oblivious. She would forget. She would always forget...until she was ready. Until He told her she was ready...Crissy's task completed, her eyes became glassy...unfocused. It was time to forget...time to get back to work...time to...obey...always...obey...
12:23 PM: She didn't know if it was the extra caffeine, or just getting a little walk to clear her head, but Christine had come back to her desk on a mission. She'd even worked straight through the start of her lunch, and it was only as she completed the last of the most pressing items on her to-do list that she realized over 2 hours had gone by. She raised her arms over her head in a long stretch and reflected on the morning. Christine couldn't believe how much she had gotten done. Whatever had motivated her and kept her so focused on the task at hand...on obeying...she wondered if she could bottle it. And that was even with the occasional distraction emanating from between her legs. Honestly, it was like every little thing was setting off her libido today. Like even the most mundane work tasks were giving her pleasure...obedience is pleasure...But she certainly couldn't complain. Except for needing some relief now that she was going for lunch, it felt...really exciting to be so easily aroused. It felt...right somehow. Oh well, not worth dwelling on.
She didn't have any lunch plans, and the sun was shining brightly outside. Maybe she would find a comfortable spot and go eat in the park down the street...
1:18 PM: Crissy stared ahead, eyes unseeing. This place was public enough that she didn't appear indecent. Any passerby might only think she was lost in thought. Not that Crissy cared about any of that, but He didn't want anyone else to see her that way, didn't want any of the trouble it might cause her. And since He wanted it, Crissy wanted it. His will was her will. Still, she couldn't help but think how thoughtful He was, looking after her. Looking after Christine. Waiting until Crissy had finished her work. Waiting until Christine was ready.
For now, the mantras could cycle through Crissy's head. The words he had spoken to her just a few minutes ago were the only thoughts she needed. She could use this time to make herself better for him. To be blank for him. To serve...To obey...it was all she wanted. All she needed...
He had teased her that maybe today was finally the day. That Christine might find herself leaving work and heading to an address she didn't consciously remember. Heading straight to Him. To be collared. Claimed. Owned. To finally allow herself to become fully integrated. To let the life she led hidden from herself become her whole life. To become fully and completely his.
Or maybe He would be waiting for her when she got home. Sitting comfortably as though he owned the place. Because he would. Because he would be taking everything she was. Everything she had. And she would give it all so eagerly. Crissy would fall to her knees in thanks and joy, ready to serve him however he desired.
The heat that idea produced between Crissy's legs drove her wild. But the tightness is caused in Christine's throat, the pit she felt in her stomach told Crissy she wasn't ready. Not yet...
He told her he would talk to her tonight. That he had something special planned. Crissy couldn't wait. She would make sure Christine couldn't either.
5:04 PM: Christine had slipped out a moment early and was on her way home now. The afternoon had flown by. She honestly couldn't remember much after she'd finished her lunch. But her work was done, and she'd even gotten a start on some of her tasks for tomorrow. That felt good. It felt good to serve. To be productive. It felt good to obey Him...
She felt worn out from that day. She wasn't sure she had much left in the tank besides getting herself some dinner and vegging. Hopefully this weekend she could get out and have some fun. Today though, she'd call it a night early. She couldn't explain why, but it felt like she had been turning in early most nights, but still was barely getting enough sleep. For some reason, that didn't bother her though. She trusted she was just working through something. She trusted Him.
6:57 PM: Christine had finished clearing away her dinner. She had slipped into something comfortable to fall asleep in. Something a little too revealing for sleeping alone. A little too provocative. She checked herself out in a mirror, making sure everything was perfect. She needed to look her best for Him. Christine tried to stifle a yawn. She heard a familiar buzz from her phone and went to pick it up. Before she saw the message that had just been sent, it occurred to her how routine her weeks had become. How predictable. She needed a change, didn't she? Something different. Something wild. Somehow, it felt like it could be so easy. Like she could reach out and grab it. Like she could almost taste it. Like she could almost taste Him...
Christine paused. Soon, she thought. Soon, Crissy whispered into her mind.
Then she read her message, and Christine slept.
Crissy woke. And Crissy was ready to obey.
A little dream I had last night:
I could hear your voice flooding my mind as I looked up at you. I wasn't fully there anymore. My vision smeared, edges bleeding to a blurry grey. My eyelids were trembling, begging to slam shut, to roll white and useless into my skull while I clawed to stay conscious just one more second.
Your hand settled onto my head—warm, impossibly soft at first, fingertips drifting through my hair like breath. It felt like mercy, like lullabies made flesh. You stroked deeper and deeper, each gentle pass peeling away another layer of resistance, another silly shard of will, until even fighting seemed a far-off and ridiculous concept.
Then your fingers tightened. Slowly. Deliberately. A fist closing in my hair. My scalp hurt, neck arched helplessly, spine bowing to your pull. The pain was bright, sharp… perfect. it snapped the last tether. My breath caught, fractured, before spilling out in a soft broken moan that tasted of surrender and maybe something sweeter—hotter.
The room tilted, it melted and it rushed away. Sound folded in on itself until there was only your voice—everywhere, wrapping around me, coiling inside me and holding me firmly under your control. My body went heavy, liquid, blissfully empty.
I dropped.
I was gone.
I was yours.