Sly Speakers hypno smut house @slyspeaker - Tumblr Blog

jowh07

robynplayfularchive

voodoosex

Date night idea 🖤

kinkmindedinme

Date night more like every night 🥰

former-redhead

Overstimulate my cunt until my brain breaks

Over and over, every night until you want to try something new.

slyspeaker

@littlebunnyellsie

strawbspassion

hypnotic triggers attached to the hue of the smart lights in your room. Everything is normal until suddenly the lights fade into pink and you suddenly feel a burning heat flush across your body, instantly stripping, humping the closest plushie as the lights fade to blue and you freeze. Still. Stuck in place. The lights fade into green, making you docile and tranquil as your body relaxes into a comfortable jumble on the floor, and suddenly the lights are normal again and you realize you’re conscious again, free to stand up and keep on with whatever you were doing until the next time those lights change colors

denied-angel

Let's talk about long term denial and a style of dominance that's compatible with it

As such, this post will mainly focus on the type of dynamic where a sub is giving out their pleasure to a dom, but I hope it can also be of value to those doing self-denial

It's something I've wanted to write about for a while and I spent quite some time thinking how to best put my thoughts into words, because it's a really important topic that people don't brush upon enough

Long term denial is hard, and that's a fact. Yes, even if you have experience and you've done it multiple times before, even if it's your main kink and you're enjoying it overall. There are going to be days when you, as the person being denied, won't be able to handle it all that well. Arousal levels might change, drop down or get too high, and it doesn't mean there's something wrong. Bodies are not machines, it's just how it is. Please listen to what your body is telling you.

Funnily enough, I think as someone dealing with chronic health issues that has to constantly monitor changes in my body and adapt to the fluctuating nature of it, it's somewhat easier for me to handle the ups and downs of denial too. But not everyone is like that and for some, long term denial will not be a healthy fit, even if you're really into the kink. And that's okay too.

Most importantly: life happens. Sometimes you have good things going on, sometimes you're just busy, but eventually, hardships will strike too. It's inevitable. Yet, you're still going to remain denied, even in such times. What then?

Denial is one of those perhaps more rare kinks that do not end together with a scene. Even if you're not actively edging, the ache creeps up. The fuzzy mindset often lingers and clouds your judgment. You're likely to start experiencing everything more intensely, you think of sex more often, mood swings can occur. It eventually starts seeping into so many aspects of life, and that's something I needed years to figure out how to manage, so I can stay denied for months at a time without it having any real negative impact on me.

One of the most important things is for a dominant in charge of your pleasure to be a good fit for what you as a denied sub need. Pro tip I learned the harder way: if something feels too good to be true, it usually is. Seeing no red flags can be a red flag by itself. If you fall easily for words, make sure they end up matching the actions as well, because sometimes sweet talk is nothing more than just talk. It might take a while to notice that.

What I've come to realise, especially after being a part of nsfw Tumblr for quite some time now and seeing how d/s develops in online spaces, is that some people treat dominance as a performance. They log in, chat and sext with subs, perhaps guide them through a scene, and when it's over and they've had their fun, the performance comes to an end. Conversation falls flat. For a denied sub, nothing really stops when their dominant has had an orgasm and their dose of pleasure, and that's what some overlook.

We're all here to have some kinky fun, and there's nothing necessarily wrong with that. But if you're a dom looking into denying a sub and being in charge of their pleasure, be aware that it becomes your responsibility. Don't get mad at them for needing you, don't take their struggle as disobedience and never ever stop such play over night, gently guide them back to solid ground. It's a duty you signed up for.

Long term denial has the best chance of working out with someone who can be dominant even when they're not horny and in the character they carefully curated to cater to a certain audience. Someone whose dominance is an underlying character trait, not a show to put on. If you've experienced both, you'll know exactly the difference I'm talking about. We're all people. You don't have to be a perfect dom or a 100% obedient sub, just a sincere one, willing to acknowledge your mistakes and improve.

For all my long term denial subs out there, especially the ones who are just starting out and dipping their toes into it: find someone who will be your friend before you let them dom you. Talk with them, check their values, goals, needs, see if those align with yours before committing to anything. No matter how good of a dom someone is, if you're not compatible, it won't work. Not for long, that is.

Done right, denial can be beautiful, never-ending dance of give and take, make you reach heights you wouldn't otherwise experience, and help you form a really intimate bond within the dynamic. But as everything, it doesn't come (lol) without risk.

Also, for God's sake, treat your doms like humans too. They're going to have hard days themselves, they won't always be able to play and match your horniness, they're not endless providers. Communicate and adapt. Tone it down or ramp it up. Be there for each other, even when things suck. Especially when they suck. That's how you build a healthy dynamic that will hopefully be long-lasting and fulfilling for both.

Feel free to comment and add upon this, I'd love to hear what others think and have to say on the topic!

pinkofatom

SNAP

CW: brainwashing, corruption, unaware, femsub,

If you liked this story please consider leaving a tip on my ko-fi

Enjoy 🩷

Laura held her phone above her head and tilted it slightly.

Not enough.

She lowered her chin. Raised the camera another few centimeters.

There.

h3ntiamadness

mastersoverminds9

Shattering a student's mind is easy. They're already primed to listen to you, and you're an authority figure that commands attention. Really, it only takes a week or so.

After that, I like to use them until I get bored with their body. Typically that's after I've pumped a kid or two inside them.

Then I just send them off to be dazed little breeding vessels for whichever lucky student finds them.

Rinse and repeat a few times, and I've got a cute little harem of brainless pupils, happily being bred by their professor's long, throbbing cock.

theperfectviolet

New Roommate 2

Emily melted into Violet’s lap, her body trembling with weeks of suppressed need. The words “Yes, Miss Violet” left her lips so naturally that it frightened her for a moment. Violet stroked her hair with slow, soothing motions, her touch both comforting and possessive.

“You are safe here with me, Emily,” Violet murmured, her voice wrapping around Emily’s mind like silk. “Everything you are feeling is natural. Your body knows what it needs, even if your thoughts are still catching up. Jake is far away. He cannot give you this kind of peace. But I can.”

Emily nodded weakly against Violet’s chest, her breathing still ragged. A small voice inside her whispered that this was wrong, that she should pull away and call Jake right now. But that voice felt distant, muffled by the warm haze still lingering from their earlier session. Violet’s fingers traced lazy circles on her back, and Emily found herself relaxing further instead of resisting.

Over the following days, Violet was careful not to rush. She kept their evening meditations as the gentle center of their routine. Each session lasted a little longer, the suggestions sinking deeper into Emily’s receptive mind.

“You are such a loyal person, Emily,” Violet would say softly while Emily floated in trance. “You want to be good. You want to make the people who care for you happy. I care for you so much. It feels right to please me, does it not? Just small things. Little secrets between us that make you feel warm and wanted.”

Emily would wake feeling refreshed but increasingly confused. She still texted Jake every evening, telling him about her classes and how much she missed him. Yet the words felt more like a script she was following than genuine connection. During one call, when Jake mentioned coming to visit in a few weeks, Emily felt a strange twist of anxiety in her stomach. She smiled through the phone and said she could not wait, but later that night, as Violet guided her into trance, the suggestion took root.

“Long distance is difficult,” Violet whispered. “It is okay to need closeness here. You are not betraying him by finding comfort with me. You are simply being honest about what you need right now. And you need my voice. You need my guidance.”

Emily began to repeat these ideas to herself during the day. When guilt crept in after touching herself to thoughts of Violet, she reminded herself that it was only stress relief. Violet was helping her. Violet understood her in ways Jake never could.

One evening, after a particularly long meditation, Violet had Emily kneel on the floor between her legs. It felt strangely natural now. Emily’s head rested against Violet’s thigh as the older girl played with her hair.

“Tell me what you are feeling, sweetie,” Violet coaxed.

Emily’s voice was small. “I feel safe. But I also feel… guilty. About Jake. And about how much I think about you.”

Violet smiled down at her with tender understanding. “That guilt is just an old habit, Emily. Your mind is changing, growing. It is scary at first, but change is how we become better. You are becoming more open, more honest with yourself. Does thinking about me make you wet right now?”

Emily blushed deeply but nodded. Violet praised her softly. “Good girl.” The familiar warmth spread through Emily’s core, making her shift on her knees.

Violet continued the slow work over the next week. She introduced light touching during their sessions, always while Emily was deep in trance. Gentle caresses along her arms, her neck, the curve of her breasts through her shirt. Never too much. Never enough to break the illusion that this was still just relaxation. But enough that Emily began craving those touches when she was awake.

“You are allowed to enjoy this,” Violet would say. “Your body responds to care. It responds to me because I see the real you. The part that wants to let go and be guided.”

Emily’s resistance softened further. She started dressing more comfortably around the room, sometimes forgetting to wear a bra or choosing looser shorts that rode up easily. When Jake sent a sweet good morning text one day, Emily replied warmly but then immediately slipped her hand between her legs, imagining Violet’s voice instead. She edged herself slowly, stopping before finishing, just as the suggestions encouraged. The denial made the ache feel purposeful.

By the end of that week, Violet decided it was time for more.

They had just finished a deep session. Emily was still kneeling, her mind soft and open, when Violet guided her up onto the bed. “Stay with me here,” Violet said gently. “Stay deep and listen to my voice while I help you feel good. You deserve this, Emily. You have been working so hard.”

Violet undressed Emily with patient hands, kissing each new inch of exposed skin. Emily shivered but did not pull away. When Violet removed her own clothes, revealing her smooth body and the confident way she moved, Emily’s breath caught.

“Lie back,” Violet instructed. She positioned herself between Emily’s spread thighs, their bodies close but not yet fully pressed together. “Keep your eyes on mine if you can. Feel how safe you are.”

Violet’s fingers began to explore. She traced slow circles around Emily’s nipples until they hardened, then moved lower, stroking the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Emily was already wet, her body responding eagerly to the conditioning. Violet teased her folds open gently, one finger sliding along her slit without entering.

“You are so responsive for me,” Violet murmured. “Your body knows who it belongs to now. Every time I touch you, another little piece of your old hesitation fades away. You do not need to feel guilty. This is healing. This is what you truly want.”

Emily moaned softly as Violet finally slipped a finger inside her. The sensation was overwhelming after so many days of teasing and edging. Violet moved slowly, curling her finger while her thumb found Emily’s clit and rubbed in perfect, unhurried circles. Emily’s hips rocked instinctively, chasing the pleasure.

Violet added a second finger, stretching her gently. “That’s it. Let it build. You are mine to guide, mine to please. Jake cannot make you feel like this because he does not know the real you. I do.”

The psychological pressure mixed with the physical pleasure in a dizzying way. Emily felt tears prick at her eyes, not from sadness but from the intensity of surrender. Violet leaned down to kiss her deeply, their breasts brushing together as her fingers continued their steady rhythm. She swallowed Emily’s moans, then moved her mouth lower to suck on one nipple while fingering her deeper.

Emily’s hands clutched at the sheets. The slow, deliberate pace was driving her mad. Violet brought her to the edge again and again, slowing down each time Emily’s breathing grew frantic.

“Not yet,” Violet whispered against her skin. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“Miss Violet,” Emily gasped, the words coming out broken and needy.

“Good girl.” Violet rewarded her by increasing the pace, fucking her with her fingers while grinding her own wet pussy against Emily’s thigh. The added sensation pushed Emily over.

Her orgasm hit hard, rolling through her in long, shuddering waves. She cried out Violet’s name, her walls clenching tightly around the invading fingers. Violet did not stop, drawing out the pleasure until Emily was a trembling, oversensitive mess.

When it finally subsided, Violet held her close, kissing her forehead and whispering more suggestions. “You will remember how good this felt. How right it felt. Every time you speak to Jake now, a small part of you will compare him to this feeling and find him lacking. Not because you are cruel, but because you are honest with yourself.”

Emily curled into her, exhausted and floating. The guilt was still there, but it felt smaller, more manageable. Violet made the guilt seem like something they would work through together, something that proved how much Emily needed her guidance.

In the days that followed, the corruption continued its patient burn. Emily sent Violet secret photos during the day, small proofs of obedience like lifting her skirt in a bathroom stall to show she wore no panties. She knelt more often during meditations. She began to touch herself only to thoughts of Violet, stopping each time before she could finish unless Violet gave permission through text.

One night, after another intense edging session where Violet had used her mouth on Emily for nearly forty minutes, bringing her to the brink repeatedly without allowing release, Emily broke down in Violet’s arms.

“I do not know who I am anymore,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I love Jake, but I need you more. It scares me.”

Violet held her tighter, stroking her back. “You are becoming who you were always meant to be, my sweet girl. My perfect, obedient puppet. The fear is just the last part of you letting go. When you are ready, you will thank me for it.”

Emily nodded, pressing closer. Deep down, she knew Violet was right. The pull was too strong now, the pleasure too addictive, the safety she felt in submission too complete. She was changing, slowly, inevitably, and she no longer wanted to stop.

shinysensations

h-sleepingirl

Voyeur (short hypnoerotica)

Waitresses develop certain habits, good and bad, and for better or for worse, people watching had snuck up on her as a hobby.

There was a couple – a man and woman – seated at one of the far tables towards the back, in the corner against the wall.

Alison knew the type of customers they were; sometimes people came in who weren’t interested in interacting with their waitress, and that was perfectly fine. Sometimes those people were on a date, and weren’t interested in interacting with the world around them.

Nor even noticing it or acknowledging that they were in public, as though the world was narrowed down to just the two of them.

Alison suspected her distaste for couples like that stemmed from envy; she’d had boyfriends before, of course, but she was always hyper aware of PDA and the eyes of others. Not to mention that none of the men she dated had that sort of connection with her, the kind she saw when other couples just gazed into each other’s eyes, looking like they were having sex in public without even speaking.

Yeah, she was probably jealous, but it still made her uncomfortable.

Luckily they weren’t her table; she was just watching them and a few others for her coworker who needed to eat lunch in the other room. So, no need for any awkward interaction.

Just watching.

These two sat across from each other and held hands across the table. The man had his fingers resting on hers possessively, and Alison just watched from the other side of the restaurant.

She wished she had picked up lip reading as a secondary hobby, but that was still coming along.

The man’s mouth was turned up and he was murmuring to his partner as she gazed on with rapt attention, a dreamy look on her face.

Alison wasn’t much of a voyeur, and she could feel warmth in her cheeks, but there was something about this interaction that had her fixated as well.

The woman was batting her lashes at him demurely, almost like a ridiculous parody of old harlequin movies.

Blinking. Blinking.

…Wait…

Alison felt a pang of something sharp and hot as she saw the woman’s eyelids fluttering, or as close as she might be imagining them to be, watching from over here.

Fluttering.

Lips parted.

Alison tore her eyes away and squeezed her fist shut, trying to calm herself down.

It looked like that man was hypnotizing his partner.

She was trying so hard to think critically, that normal people would see that and not think twice, but for her it was as explicit and out of place as though the two of them had gotten on the table and started fucking.

So it felt, when she couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer and raised her eyes again, that she was seeing something that she was really not meant to see.

Alison tried to be very still as she looked on, and saw that the woman’s shoulders had slumped and her head was cocked back, baring her neck… And her eyes were closed.

Closed and fluttering.

In the middle of a public space.

If she could just be closer, maybe she would see the whites threatening to peek out from beneath those eyelids.

Alison was blushing so hard, and her pussy… Well.

…Fuck. This was dangerous.

Her heart nearly stopped when the man’s head turned slightly to look at her.

Fuck.

She quickly flicked her eyes away, pretending to look at other customers. After a few moments she looked back, and to her shame and horror he was still staring back at her.

Not angry or upset.

He was grinning. He fucking grinned, and snapped his fingers while looking straight at her.

Alison thought she might cum on the spot, and her body yearned and begged to see more, to have heard that sound better and closer, to see the way the woman’s body responded as she licked her lips and took in a breath and started to come back up…

…Despite herself, Alison wanted so suddenly and desperately to be the girl in his power, asleep and gone and hypnotized. This was too close to old fantasies, to things she’d tried to bury in her mind.

…How desperately?

…Desperately enough to go over to him and ask for it?

She didn’t have to think hard through that scenario.

…No.

No, this would be one of those moments where she would keep it to herself, a secret to her grave, and she would regret it for the rest of her life but really, she had no other choice.

For now, she was trapped watching with this overwhelming, envious desire.

The man had turned his attention back to the woman, still with that same soft smile, and she was still visibly relaxed, fixated on him. He raised a finger in front of her eyes and immediately the woman’s entire body language changed to train herself on it, head craning closer, mouth open slightly as if in awe.

Panicked, Alison looked around in a knee-jerk reaction of seeing who might be watching, but the few other people sitting around just did not notice or care.

They just didn’t see it the same way she did. They didn’t get turned on like this, beyond what she thought the ability of her body was.

As she feared and hoped, the man started moving his finger back and forth and around, and the woman’s head followed it, her eyes and her whole head and body just completely bound to it.

Like a puppet or a thrall, like someone completely entranced.

Entranced like Alison felt she was now, spellbound into watching by her pussy. She clamped down on that thought as best she could, but it turned her on even more, rooted her to the spot, and she hated how helpless she felt to her own desire.

The man looked at her again from across the room. Alison held her breath.

He kept eye contact as he slowly lowered his finger, and as the woman watched it drop, her eyes slid shut and she practically crumpled in the chair.

There was a long, long moment where Alison stared frightened like a deer in headlights, frozen, breath strangled with arousal, and he just watched her, while the woman breathed heavy breaths across from him, gone to the world.

Fuck.

Alison finally broke the spell and immediately turned tail to run to the restroom, to just escape the situation, even as her body screamed at her for leaving.

She had never been so close to that desire before, and if she never was again, it would be too soon. Cold water on her face, a healthy dose of scolding herself, and a few moments to steady her breath and hope that they were done when she came back up.

–

As it turned out, they had left by the time she returned.

There was disappointment, but she shoved it down and reasoned with herself that this was the best possible outcome: no more embarrassing herself or dangerous fantasies.

Alison went to go pick the cash up off the table, but as she approached, her heart sped up – there was a handwritten note on top of it.

Looking quickly around her to make sure no one was looking – and why would they be looking?! – Alison picked it up with shaky fingers.

It read:

‘I can give you what you want. Contact me any time.’

There was an email and a phone number.

Every instinct told Alison that she should throw this away, maybe even burn it. Stop looking at it so that there’s no chance of remembering the information.

But she couldn’t, and she knew she couldn’t, and it made her feel weak, even like there was something desirable about that weakness.

With a healthy dose of shame, she crumpled the note in her hand, and stuffed it into her pocket.

–

((Based loosely off of a fantasy I had at work the other day. Terrifically self indulgent bullshit hypnofetish smut and a great example of the fact that I am boring as fuck. Sorry to any waitstaff for whom aspects of this story are unrealistic, such as ever getting a break to eat food during working hours. I hope you enjoyed it!))

@hypno-sandwich @hypnokinkwithmrdream @diaryofasnowflake @zanythoughts @theleeallure @cckitten78 @dasade @enscenic