everyday while i fuck my holes and continue with my training i listen to these audios on repeat.
they allow me to turn my brain off completelyyyyy and leak any iq i have left out of my holes.
im sharing this so all stupid cunts can train ourselves better and more efficiently.
if you have any audio porn that makes you a better good girl, repost and add your audio link below so we can all fulfill our purpose to serve Men together 🥰✨
Hypno Toy. You never expected it to happen like this.
He’s sitting across from you on his bed, that stupid, lopsided grin on his face, dangling a cheap silver pocket watch in front of you. The chain sways lazily between his fingers, the rhythmic back-and-forth almost comical in its cliché.
"You’re getting sleeeeepy," he drawls, deepening his voice in an exaggerated imitation of some old-timey hypnotist.
You snort, rolling your eyes. "Oh yeah, totally. I’m just melting because you’re waving a five-dollar prop in my face."
He doesn’t stop, though. His grin just widens, as if trying to swallow you whole. "That’s right, keep staring at it. Deeper and deeper… feeling so good, so relaxed…"
You play along, sighing dramatically, letting your shoulders slump. "Ugh, fine. I am sooo under your spell. Whatever will you do with me now, oh mighty hypnotist?"
He chuckles, low and warm, and there's just something about the sound... "Hmm… all this power, maybe I should make you do something embarrassing. Something slutty."
You laugh, shaking your head. "Oh no, anything but that." You’re joking, and of course he’s joking too.
But then his voice drops, just a little, just enough. "That’s right… you want to take your clothes off for me. You want to get more comfortable…"
You open your mouth to fire back another sarcastic remark, but nothing comes out.
Something feels… fuzzy.
Your vision blurs at the edges, and the watch seems to glow, the silver catching the light in hypnotic little flashes. Your skin tingles, heat starting to build out from your core.
Wait.
Why does it feel so… warm?
Maybe you don’t need clothes after all…
"You’re doing so well," his voice is as smooth as honey. "So obedient… so eager to listen. You love how this feels. Love how nice it feels to just… let go."
You should say something. You should laugh it off, call him ridiculous, break the spell before—
Before what?
Before it works?
"That’s it," he coos, and the watch keeps swaying, swaying, pulling you deeper. "You don’t need to think. You just need to feel. And you feel how wet you are, don’t you?"
Oh.
Oh God.
You do.
A hot, slick ache pulses between your legs, so sudden and intense it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs. Your nipples tighten, your skin flushing with need.
No. No, this isn’t...this isn’t real. He’s just joking. You’re just playing along.
"You want me to touch you." You realize it’s not a question, it's an admission, plucked straight from your mind. "You need it. Need my hands on you, need my cock inside you…"
Your lips part on a shaky exhale, the last vestiges of petty resistance, but as it echos in your mind, you give in.
Yes.
You need his touch.
You need his cock.
You don’t know when you started nodding, but you are, your head bobbing in time with the watch, your body swaying forward like a flower tilting toward the sun.
His free hand brushes your knee, and you melt, a whimper slipping free.
"That’s my good girl," he whispers, and the praise sinks into your skin like a brand. "You’re mine now. My slutty little hypno toy."
His good girl.
His slutty hypno toy.
The watch disappears. His fingers tangle in your hair, tugging your head back, and then his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding, and you're gone.
You don’t remember moving, but suddenly you’re beneath him, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his hips grinding against yours in slow, filthy circles. You gasp, arching into him, your hands scrambling at his shirt.
"Please," you beg, and you don’t even know what you’re asking for — just that you need it.
He chuckles against your throat, teeth grazing your pulse. "I know, baby. I know."
Then his hand slips between your legs, fingers diving into your wetness, and you sob.
"Fuck, you’re dripping," he groans. "All for me. All because I told you to."
Dripping.
For him.
You don’t care how it happened. You don’t care that this shouldn’t be possible. All you care about is the way his fingers curl inside you, the way his thumb circles your clit, the way his voice wraps around your mind like a velvet chain.
"You’re never going to forget this," he promises, and you know it’s true. "Never going to forget how good it feels to be mine."
Never forget.
You’re his.
Then he’s pushing inside you, thick and perfect, and your vision whites out. His hips snap against yours, each thrust driving you higher, your nails raking down his back as you cling to him. You’re babbling, begging, words tumbling from your lips in a desperate, broken chant.
"More, more, more—"
His fingers are tightening in your hair. "Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock like the good little slut I turned you into."
Cum for him.
Cum on his cock.
Good sluts cum.
You shatter. Wave after wave of pleasure, your body clamping around him as you scream, your back bowing off the bed. He fucks you through it, his rhythm never faltering, his breath hot against your ear.
"That’s it. That’s my girl."
You don’t know how long it lasts. You don’t know anything except the way he feels inside you, the way his voice coils around your thoughts, the way your body obeys without question.
And as he finally spills into you, his groan muffled against your throat, you clutch him closer, legs locking around his hips. You clamp down, anchoring yourself to him, a silent vow passing from your body to his. In that moment, utterly intertwined, you know…
just drop and rub, rub and drop, drop and rub, rub and drop, drop and rub, rub and drop, drop and rub, rub and drop, drop and rub, rub and drop, drop and rub, rub and drop, drop and rub, rub and drop, drop and rub, rub and drop, drop and rub, rub and drop, drop and rub, rub and drop
she holds me down, teases my poor clit, pinching and rubbing and stopping when i get too close to the edge. she covers my tits with hickies and bruises, meanly pulls on my nipples until tears bubble up in my eyes. i’m crying, begging for her to let me cum, fuck me properly with her strap but she won’t. she tells me to look at the camera like a good slut, let my audience see what they’re paying for. she moves, sits on my face and keeps playing with my bruised tits, punching pinching harder when i’m not paying enough attention to her cunt. she cums, covers my face with it as i desperately try to lick up every drop, thanking her over and over. she decides i’ve had enough. she fucks me roughly, harshly, rubbing my clit so fast it nearly hurts but so good. i scream, gush over her strap and my vision whites out as i pant and gasp into her mouth as she bites at my lips. she slides out, satisfied, and laughs at my fucked out body laying limp on the bed. she brings the camera over but not to my face. she spreads my cunt open and flicks my oversensitive clit, higgling as my viewers tell her more, make the whore cry again. she slides her fingers in, crooks up against my g-spot and laughs as i shudder and try to decide whether to flex into the feeling or move away. ‘next time’, she says ‘i won’t be so nice’. i try to think what she means when she speaks again. ‘i’ll be taking suggestions, so let me know what to do to this slut next’
