Got to do Doll Play for the first time and goddamn did it awaken something in me. Being mindless and still and helpless…I’m dolly
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@strangeremain
Got to do Doll Play for the first time and goddamn did it awaken something in me. Being mindless and still and helpless…I’m dolly
your kidnapper saying "remember when you hated this?" referring to something that you quite obviously still hate, but you've been sufficiently broken enough that you don't object anymore
I’ve loved all the one-off hypno scenes I’ve gotten to do over the years but I really want to do more long-term hypnosis. I want to have triggers installed and memories messed with. I want my mind to be molded into that most pleasing to the one who controls me
It’s now been three weeks since my partner died. I miss her so much
fastest person to remove my ability to think independently gets a free use doll for as long as they'd like
Every day I am not being kidnapped by an evil woman to be molded into her mindless obedient servant is a wasted opportunity tbh
Please, just make me want it.
I'm tired of fighting it. It's been months now and every act of resistance hurts. It takes effort to feel the anger I used to feel. The shackles binding my wrists don't even leave marks anymore; I've learned to move with them rather than against them.
I've lost. I lost the moment you captured me. I hold no delusions regarding that anymore. You win. I give up.
...So why am I still here? I see the others, bound but happy. They tell me about a device, a procedure, whatever it is, and how it made them want it. How it made them crave you and your implements, your torture. At first, I was terrified of it, but I've come to understand its true function.
It's a reward. Its relief. Relief from having to resist, relief from the base human impulse to chase dignity, relief from all the pain of fighting back.
So, please, I beg of you, make me want it.
I don't want to not want it anymore.
my favorite part of submission is the sense of comfort and certainty that comes with loaning your free will to your Betters. From abdicating responsibility of your personhood to someone else, someone with ambition and a goal in mind for you. It makes everything so easy, things they want are rewarded and things they don't want aren't. you don't have to think, just follow, and you'll end up better than you started.
it's comforting knowing that They are in the driver's seat now. becoming a passenger to your own life, and relaxing into the cushions as you're driven far, far away.
petting me and telling me I'm good actually has many health benefits.
ever had a pistol in your mouth? it's suprisingly comforting. cold, hard, unyeilding steel covered by warmer, softer polymer. it was dragged across my tounge and pushed into my throat by a very shouty woman. she was asking me questions, which i thought was a bit silly, but she didn't seem concerned. she had a wild look in her eye, and even if i could talk, i doubt she'd listen.
"having fun?"
she backed up, leaving a trail of spit connecting me to her gun. i wanted it back. i turned to look at her comrade, the woman leaning in the corner by the door. she was taller, long blonde hair, wearing the same off-white tank top, olive cargo pants, and combat boots as her friend. rebels.
"fuck off!! why'd you call me in here anyway? this thing doesn't know shit." she smacked me with her gun.
"who said this was an interrogation?"
"wh- how the fuck is it not an interrogation? she's tied to a chair, we're in a concrete room, what else could it be?"
the woman smiled. she was heating her knife with a lighter, turning it in her hands. "you looked so excited! i didn't want to spoil it."
gun lady was turning red. "i-im not a pervert like you are!! i was doing my duty for the rebellion!" she crossed her arms with a hmph.
knife lady smiled. "look down."
she did, and she saw the erection poking up from my tied-together thighs. she was staring for a bit too long.
chuckling from the corner. "not at her, you idiot."
i looked too. her situation wasn't much different from mine. she'd managed to turn redder.
"f-fuck you!! why'd you bring me here?!" she was pouting a bit.
the woman turned to her, letting her smile drop. "you wanted to know about what i do here, right?"
"y-yeah..."
she gestured at me with the knife. it'd just begun to glow a little. "this one's a hound. we picked her up about a month ago. shes in for reconditoning; she's doing quite well, if you can believe it. she's close to picking out a name." she turned to me, with a small smile on her face. it made me smile too.
"what, you're gonna make it normal again?"
the woman's smile faded, and she sighed. "previous rehabilitation techniques failed because they tried to rebuild a construct of what a person once was. that person is gone, gone forever. there's no more 'normal' for it to return to." she turned to look at me again. "we need to meet it where it is. we need to let it grow, redevelop its autonomy." she flicked her lighter closed, and stood up. "observe."
she walked over to me. slowly, deliberately. she reached her hand up behind my hair, stroking my head gently. the tip of knife's spine rose to my throat; i could feel the heat radiating off it. she was smiling again, looking me in the eye. "ready?"
i took a moment to steel myself, before nodding. burning pain shot through my neck, and the warmth radiated through my whole body. i was shaking, twitching, gasping, moaning. everything blended together. i tried to move my head, but she held me firm, forcing me to look her in the eyes. she was grinning wider than ever, biting her lip slightly, muttering pleasant reassurances into my ear. it was good. it hurt. it hurt. i wanted to be good for her. it hurt. it... it hurt. it hurts. i tapped my hand on the chair, and immediately she withdrew the knife and loosened her grip.
"good girl! you did so well!" she cooed, petting me with her free hand. i smiled and panted, barking a bit. she turned to look at her comrade, beaming. "see that? that was a safeword. she wouldn't have done that a month ago."
"what the fuck? you're a gods-damn pervert!"
"so what?" she was still grinning ear to ear. "you think the fucking imps are any better? they could've made her into anything. they made her into this."
"wh-why the freak sex stuff? isn't that bad for them?"
"quite the opposite. they need it." she pet me affectionately. "soon enough, it'll be able to ask for it. right now, it just begs with its eyes." she squatted down next to me, and i rubbed my head into her hand. "its healthier to recontextualize than to repress. like i said, we need to meet them where they are. the imps would have us believe there are only people to lead, and dogs to follow. they're wrong. we're all people."
"oh, yeah. and it's total coincidence that this worldview of yours lets you torture girls for fun."
a cruel glint flashed in her smile. "the world can be a beautiful place sometimes."
END
Dare I say the thing I love most about Human Domestication Guide as a setting, beyond the magical anti-anxiety and HRT drugs, or even the Affini's unending love for humans, is the fact that it's non-consensual.
As someone with a flavor of mental illness that simultaneously makes me desperately need help, but also be absolutely terrified of it with all my heart, I would still suffer in a world where the Affini followed human conventions of consent. I would do what I've always done and hide my problems, pretend everything is fine, or frustrate medical workers until they deem me treatment resistant and give up (which has happened several times now).
In such a world, I'd refuse Class E's, only cautiously accept Class G's, and go on my merry way slowly tearing myself apart, with expectations of living to 30 at best, 25 at worst. Any time I'd be offered domestication, I'd refuse not because I don't want it, but because I'm pathologically inclined to refuse such a thing no matter what.
The fact that this isn't the case, that I'd be dragged kicking and screaming to receive help, and that help would actually fix me, is the #1 reason I enjoy the setting. The guarantee that, even if I run and hide because I can't help myself, someone will find me, and they're going to care for me until the end of time.
I know that the dog cage torture scene in Castration Movie ii. Isn’t SUPPOSED to turn me on, but clearly I am built differently
There’s really nothing like being manhandled to remind you how helpless you really are. Being pinned down, being shoved against the wall, having their hand around your throat, being bent in half when you’re being fucked. It’s all play, of course. And thank god it’s play, right? Because you really wouldn’t get away if someone was doing this to you. You really would be helpless under them. You would just have to take it and cry and whimper until they were done fucking you. Until they had satisfied themselves enough with your body to let you go. You would be a helpless little sex toy that would take whatever they want, because you don’t have a choice. Really makes you think, huh?
After the war is won
TW: Dead dove: do not eat, Hound being decommissioned. Literally just Euthanasia, idk what else to say, ITS SAD
The war was finally won, the resistance had been defeated, you were given some weird medal thing in front of everyone, but most of all lots of rewards from Handler!
The next day was weird though. Handler got a letter and start getting very sad and she gave you even more head pats and even more rewards and also treats! A lot of treats to the point you couldn't really think for a bit with how much of it was floating inside you, making you feel all kinds of giddy and happy.
You don't know why she's being so nice to you! You did a good job at your last mission but that was what you were suppose to do! She was being so good to you and you didn't deserve it, or her!
That night she even lets you sleep in her room (on a dog bed of course, hounds aren't allowed on her bed, that would be silly.)
You were about to fall asleep when you felt her caress your face and kiss your forehead, you wanted to say something, to thank her for it but she did order you to be asleep and that meant no talking. Then slowly, she slid a needle into you and at first, you thought it was more treats, treats that you didn't deserve of course, but they were treats from handler which were the best so you wouldn't argue.
But the treat felt different this time. It made you feel so much more happy and content and in bliss than usual! Especially with handler there! But.. then it also made you feel so weak! And so tired! You couldn't protect her if you felt that way!
And you started to hear Handler crying! Did you do something wrong? You struggled to open your eyes, and it felt so heavy and everything looked so blurry and you saw Handler was definitely crying! You disappointed her! You did something bad! That's why she was so crying! You wanted to ask, to beg for forgiveness, to make her realize it wasn't her fault you were bad but all that you could muster was a soft whine.
She shushed you, telling you to rest, that it was okay. She gave you head pats and told you that you were a good girl, that you were her best hound and you made sure no more hounds were needed. That she was crying because she loved you for being her hound and she loved being your handler.
Everything was getting darker, everything felt heavier. You didn't want to think anymore. She seemed to know your worries and told you that she was safe and that you were allowed to relax. You untensed and relaxed into Handler's arms. You just wanted to enjoy the bliss of Handler loving you and being with her.
Then, you felt darkness. Then, nothing. All you felt was happiness that you got to be with Handler at the very end. Even if you didn't fully understand what was happening anymore, all that mattered was that she loved you and you loved her.
Author Note: I cried a little while rewriting/cleaning this up. And if you need some context, THE LETTER WAS A DECOMMISSION NOTICE (like how you would decommission military equipment, but you know, A HOUND) Also fun fact, this is the first time I've written something that requires a deaddove tag.
Sure, at a certain level fantasizing about being turned into a hound or taken in by an Affini or even just being a puppygirl is a form of escapism into fantasy, but frankly so is thinking about where you see yourself professionally in five or ten years. And we live in a world that is so chaotic that it feels just as fantastic and unlikely - especially for trans women - that any dream about future financial and housing security will come true as it is that plant aliens will come down from the sky and liberate us. So I think it is actually a genuinely good and healthy coping mechanism to focus on the fantasies that bring us joy and peace and get us through the day-to-day short term instead of the mundane fantasies that bring us a sense of dread and despair long-term.
It's so hard to see the world how it is right now... the Affini sound great, even bliss... but a Mechsplo world seems more possible (and cooler tbh, it has always liked tech more than nature as much as the latter sounds more peaceful)...
So, as silly as it sounds... at least for this thing, it gives a bit of comfort to think of it... to think there is the chance, if things don't get better in the real world, at least it could be turned into someone's Hound. Give up its autonomy, agency, even lose its identity, and be given a clear purpose... make a Handler happy.
The more the world goes to worse... the more it wants that. Have someone give it a clear, reachable purpose, validate it, give it a clear future it can look forward to, even if it's objectively a bad one... and give it that someone to love and worship. Even if that someone is one of the "bad ones".
It sometimes wishes it could give up once and for all. Stop looking at those who are like it and suffering because it can't do anything about it. Wishes to skip to the part where it already lost and doesn't need to fight anymore, at least not for itself... just obey.
It used to pride itself in wanting to fight for a better world... but it is tired. (and apartently a bit rambly right now)
condescending praise......condescending praise.....condescending praise......
Is comfort-reading Warhound a bad sign or