they/he/she pronouns, switch em up if youre cool;
aspec autdhd queer guy who is a girl (and vice versa);
polyam w three cool partners :)
i like drawing and writing erotica and you may see bits of either on here if the mood strikes
no minors ty
i like a lot of stuff, but to narrow down to some of my faves, this is what youre likely to see here:
altered states (and therefore, inherently, cnc) so things like
▵ intox (🌿 in partic)
▵ hypno
▵ somno
desperation, incl
▵ teasing/denial
▵ omo
▵ lact
various types of roleplay
▵ petplay (cozystyle)
▵ medical (evilstyle)
▵ 'we need to repopulate the hive' type shit
(theres probably more but i cant think of it rn lol. tbd)
thanks for dropping by, feel free to shoot me a mssg if you like. im especially always open to discuss kink in a mechanical sense: i like pulling scenes apart to see why they work, what lines or imagery hits harder and why it does that. come be pretentious with me
im gonna tag this with categories i usually use for navigations sake 👍
everyone post your biggest hear me outs my friend just showed me two conventionally attractive white men in a row i need to teach him what a real hear me out is
all experimentation inspection medical kink porn is TOO porn-like !!! i want an educational video where the specimen is obviously turned on and needy and leaking but the presenter completely ignores it
what you experience is hyperfixation, which is pathological. what I experience is psychosexual obsession， which is also pathological, but in a darkly chic and subversive way. thank you for understanding.
sexpervert dark sorceress is attempting to sexually manipulate me but I keep pointing out the rhetorical fallacies in her innuendo-laden attempts to convert me into a sex-crazed minion and shes gotten so angry she cant even get a hardon from hitting me anymore
that's right, pet.* you want to be a good girl, don't you?** you want to please mommy?*** just relax and give in... all of your friends have already submitted.**** imagine how much happier you'll be with no thoughts at all...*****
a story about a hypnotist suspecting that their coworker likes being hypnotized.
---
the thing about being a hypnotist was, the habits were hard to kick. time learned some of the most effective ways to guide people and communicate from it, and there just wasn't any reason not to use that knowledge in their daily life.
it wasn't like they were doing full inductions to people, or anything like that. but if someone was anxious, or they had a question at work, or needed help with something, time knew how to keep things simple and direct their focus, how to praise them for what they did right before correcting any mistakes. comparing it to hypnosis made it a little more fun for them, a little less mundane, like some secret little mind game - even if really, just using a few of those speech patterns and a slightly softer tone wasn't going to have any kind of hypnotic effect on anyone who didn't already see it as hypnotic, and the only thing time wanted out of those interactions was for the problem to be resolved, anyway. they were pretty sure some people even found it kind of annoying or condescending, but it was kind of fun to piss people off with it sometimes, too.
they thought jim was going to be one of those people. he started working at their job, and he was clearly serious and competent, but very stubborn. he seemed like the kind of person who would rather bash his head against a wall over and over in the hopes it would somehow fix a problem than ask for help. it wasn't that he didn't listen if someone did step in and tell him how to do something, but it always seemed like he was forcing himself to hold in his frustration and annoyance with them and the whole situation the entire time. that was the impression they got watching him, anyway.
that's why, when they finally had the opportunity to help him with something themself, they wanted to push him a little bit, to see how he'd react.
they leaned over him to look at his computer, a little closer than most people probably would've liked. "having trouble with something?" they asked, slowly and softly, exaggerating that tone. "it's alright, i can probably walk you through it. what are you having trouble with?"
he seemed tense, as they expected, but it was a little different than the reactions they'd seen from him when other people talked to him. like he froze for a second, almost.
"i just... some of these emails aren't moving over," he said. "and i didn't realize i was supposed to put the 'from' ones in the sent folder. is it fine if i have duplicates in the other folders and in the sent one?"
"yeah, that's just fine. and you can just wait on the ones that aren't moving right now... just move on, and come back to them later... and if they're still there... we'll try to figure out what's going on. if it's just a few of them, it's probably alright, anyway." it was kind of a shame he didn't have any bigger or more involved problems, they really wanted to take him through some multi-step process, but they guessed it was unlikely he'd need that much help for such a simple task.
"alright," he said. "thank you."
it was hardly a reaction, even though they were really trying to annoy him. they had to try pushing just a little more.
"you know, you don't need to be so tense, jim," they said, softening their voice to an almost comical degree. "have you been stressed lately? you can relax a little... take some deep breaths every now and then... it might help. it might help you relax... it might help you feel better."
his eyes were wide. his breathing was a bit slower and deeper.
then he blinked quickly. "i, uh... i'm fine, thank you," he mumbled, shifting away from them. "you can get back to your work. i don't need any more help."
they backed off, but hesitated for a moment, staring at him.
that didn't seem like anger in his voice or body language. he seemed flustered. were they imagining that?
they knew they had to test more of jim's reactions.
the next day, they greeted him.
"good morning," he politely responded.
he seemed like he was about to walk away, but they stopped him. "hey," they said, stepping closer. "you look a little tired today. how did you sleep?" really he always looked tired, but that didn't matter.
"i slept fine," he said.
"oh yeah?"
his eyebrows furrowed. "yeah," he said.
"maybe i'm imagining it," they continued, trying to be subtle as they lowered their voice and spoke more slowly and deliberately, "but you just look so sleepy to me. like you're still half-asleep. like you never really fully woke up. you know what i mean?"
he blinked again, averting his eyes, his cheeks turning pink. "i'm- i'm fine," he responded, stepping back.
"well, if you say so," they said, not wanting to push him any farther yet. "sorry for assuming." their apology probably didn't sound very sincere, but it didn't really matter. that wasn't the point.
the point was the look he gave them. they couldn't know exactly what he was thinking, but from his reactions, they had to wonder. was he trying to figure them out, too? was he silently asking himself if someone could really be testing him, testing to see whether he'd been hypnotized before, or if it was all just a coincidence? was he debating whether he should say something, whether he should ask about it?
they had a new game to play, now.
it was noteworthy to them that he never stopped them from approaching him in the first place. he'd let them get close, he'd return their greetings, he'd listen to them. he'd even take their offers to eat lunch together. he was still a pretty quiet and reserved sort of person, and their conversations stayed casual and relatively impersonal, but he clearly didn't dislike them.
that meant they could fuck with him a little.
"you know, jim," they said during their break, "my eyes have been bothering me today, for some reason."
"allergies?" he asked.
"i don't know. do they look red or anything?" they leaned closer to him.
he didn't normally make much eye contact, but he did look at their eyes carefully this time. they were sure to stare right back.
"they look fine to me," he finally said, with his usual demeanor.
just looking into them wasn't enough, then. "hold on," they said. "can you look a little closer?"
his eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes moved away from them, signs they'd begun to recognize. "i think i would've been able to see if something was wrong."
"just let me look at your eyes again. i want to see something."
that got him to look back at them.
"come a little closer."
he moved toward them, eyebrows still furrowed, eyes still looking directly into theirs. "what is it?" he asked.
"it's just kind of interesting," they said, slipping into a mildly hypnotic, teasing tone, "how with eyes like yours, you can really see those pupils dilate."
he just stared for a moment. "...can you?"
"yeah," they said. "sometimes the pupils dilate when you're really focused on something... when you're really looking at something. like you're doing right now, looking into my eyes."
they were dilating a bit, but more importantly than that, he was completely still while he looked at them, his eyes fixed on theirs. his expression seemed to have softened a little, as well, and an unmistakeable blush spread across his face.
normally when they started using that hypnotic tone, he'd get flustered and back away, but now, it was like he was stuck. they wondered if they could've gone into a whole hypnosis session with him right then and there, if they really wanted to.
"you've been looking for a while now... how long are you gonna stare?" they asked.
he blinked, his eyes finally darting away. he was definitely blinking more than he really needed to. it was a cute tell, like it was his way of trying to shake off a light trance.
"you alright?"
"i'm fine," he said, pausing for a second. were the words not coming to him? were his thoughts slow, or was he just too flustered to know what to say? "maybe something's wrong with my eyes today, too," he finally added, with the faintest smile. a joke.
"maybe i should take another look, then."
he looked like he was almost considering it.
"you know, you might be straining your eyes looking at the computer so much," they continued. "you should spend some more time staring off into the distance. you don't actually even have to be looking at anything specific. it's enough to just pretend you're looking at something far away."
"you really want to see me stare, don't you?"
"seems like you're pretty good at it."
he didn't respond. they could almost see him thinking, trying to decide what to say, weighing his options.
but they knew he wasn't going to say anything. he knew what they were doing. there was no point in saying it. it would just ruin the game.
they quietly approached his chair while he was working, standing behind him, watching carefully until they were sure he was completely absorbed in his work.
they held their hand up, positioning their fingers just right, producing a clear, satisfying snap.
he jumped.
"oh, that got your attention, didn't it?"
he turned to face them. "what is it?"
"just trying to figure out how i can pull you away from your work for a second. you get so focused. if i just talked to you, i'm not sure you'd even hear me."
"well, not everyone is as easily bored and distractible as you are," he said, turning back to the computer.
"you're just so intense about it." they leaned forward, putting a hand on the back of his chair and taking on a smug, indulgent tone. "it's like you're in a trance."
he shifted, a small movement that made them wonder if that sent a chill down his spine. his eyes darted away again, even from the screen in front of him.
"are you just here to distract me?" he asked.
"yeah, pretty much."
"you've gotten pretty good at that," he muttered.
"really, though," they said, "you don't have to try so hard all the time. you can't really give 100% every day, you know."
"i just want to get things done."
"they'll still get done if you do a little less at a time. like, you know..." they spoke slowly. "90 percent... 80 percent... 70 percent... 60 percent... maybe even less than that... 50 percent... 40 percent..."
jim had plenty of time to interject, to say that he got it already, but he didn't. they started stretching out the words even more. "thirty... percent... twenty... percent... ten... percent... just ten percent. imagine operating at ten percent at work... ten percent of your mental capacity. you'd probably be about as productive as anyone else... but it'd be a little relaxing, wouldn't it? operating at just ten percent... not giving yourself any more than that... because you don't need any more than that."
they saw his shoulders sink a bit. his face was red again.
"i really don't think i can do that," jim responded. "people already know i'm capable of more than that."
"that's why you just decrease it a bit at a time. giving a little bit less every day... feeling that capacity that you allow yourself shrink, bit by bit... percentage by percentage... who can blame you for that? i mean, it's not even a conscious choice... it just starts happening. you know you only have so much mental energy. it's only a matter of time before you start adjusting and adapting... and you learn you don't really need to use all of that energy working here... the brain loves taking shortcuts. saving energy. it's not your fault... it's not your fault that your brain is learning to slow down when you're here."
he exhaled, his breath slightly uneven. he was listening. not only that, he was into it.
"it's only when you're working. because you're saving that energy for other things. you can use it if you really need it. you readjust in response to what you really need." hopefully that would suffice as a safety suggestion. they doubted this would work that well without some repetition and reinforcement, anyway.
"but that's the only way you'd ever use less energy, isn't it? you know that it has to really feel like you can't do any more than that. that your mental capacity is smaller. so much smaller. everything is slower... it's harder to think... but you just settle into that nice, calm feeling... knowing you're doing enough... you'll get there..."
he was working more slowly, his eyes almost glazing over. his furrowed eyebrows shifted into a soft, almost dazed expression.
"do you understand?" they asked. "or is it hard to understand anything right now?"
"i... i understand," he said. "i just..." talking seemed to make him a little more alert and lucid. "god," he said quietly. "it's not really... it's not like i want to be stupid, or anything, but..."
"don't think so much about it," they murmured, and he completely stopped in his tracks, the alertness fading away again.
any sliver of doubt they had was completely gone. this was someone who loved being hypnotized. it probably removed all the doubt from jim's mind about them being a hypnotist, too.
well, it might have removed a little more than just that.
There was the risk of her hand slipping, if nothing else. And it wasn't like her dom would know if she cheated and wrote something harmless instead. The two of them were strangers who lived an ocean away. All of their play was built on the honor system.
But that would be missing the point of it. Of course you could always play-act. Quick-release cuffs, plastic knives, non-alcoholic wine. But isn't it so much hotter when the danger is real?
So she typed out the truth, hands moving in well-ingrained patterns, message box expanding to fill the chat window with words. Her secret; spelled out but not sent, never sent. The best blackmail she'd been able to think of, something that'd be life-ruiningly-for-real-disastrous if it ever were to get out.
She finished typing and pulled her hands away at once, like the enter key was a hot stove. It wasn't; it was worse now. At least burns were only temporary.
A few seconds to let the typing indicator disappear on the other end. Enough time to think. Typing was something she did on autopilot, and only now did she truly look at the words. Each time it was stomach-twisting to see so much of herself laid bare. Her real name was in there, for fuck's sake. No sane person would think this was worth it.
Her dom's words popped up over the unsent message.
Good. You can touch now.
Her hand plunged down her pants.
She'd already been turned on, of course. The ritual of it all made sure of that. The human brain was eager to make associations. Hear a bell, then masturbate, and the bell will become arousing. Stare at your greatest secret, think about it getting out...
There was the occasional message from her dom, encouraging, teasing, incisive. A monologue, by necessity - she couldn't respond to anything without deleting what was already there, and that meant no more touching. Something freeing about that. No need to speak or perform or do anything but get off. Almost like being gagged.
Between messages, she stared her own words in the eye until they faded and blurred and ceased to be anything but a heavy meaningless block of danger. It was hard not to fixate on the text, felt irresponsible to tear her eyes away from it.
Of course the real irresponsible thing was having it there in the first place. The awareness made her stomach flutter and drop at the same time. Shame and need and excitement burned red on her cheeks as she got closer and closer and closer...
God, you must look just -adorable- right now. It's so fun how much the risk of becoming mine turns you on.
Fishhook-sharp self-preservation tried to pull on her brain. She knew how this was going to end. Knew she had to stop for her future self's sake. Knew that one day the message would say send what you wrote if you want to cum, and she'd stare at it like a deer in the headlights, desensitized and delirious enough to make the wrong decision, her fears too blunted, too distant, and then her hand would inch towards the keyboard and-
The thought pushed her over the edge. Lightning coursed out from between her hips, forked down her limbs, lit a fire in her brain, and all other considerations seemed unimportant until it died down.
