30s, she/they, hot for hypno
DO NOT DM me asking to hypnotize me or for hypnosis
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Have you ever been driving down some long, monotonous road and just zoned out as you watch the lanes lines drift by?
Have you ever felt your mind just shut off and move along on cruise control?
Have you ever let your body steer the car while your mind sleeps?
And have you ever suddenly parked in front of an old Victorian style mansion in the middle of the woods without realizing how you got there with an uncontrollable urge to go in?
You stomp through the rain to the rickety wooden porch. Of course your rental car would die right after your phone ran out of battery. Through the downpour you can see a few amber lights shining through the windows.
They have power, whoever lives here. You should be able to sweet talk your way in so you can charge your phone.
The floorboards creak as you step up to the carved oak door and bang on the brass knocker. To your relief, you hear the rusty click of a latch and the door swings open. Standing behind it is a young woman with red hair and fair skin dressed in a wine-red corset and flowing gown. The corset accentuates her hourglass figure and you try not to stare at her round breasts poking over the top. You glance at her face. Her misty eyes stare back at you.
You explain your situation and she smiles warmly and shows you in. You follow, your gait matching the rhythm of her swinging hips. The hallway is narrow and coated with oval framed pictures of regal ladies from years ago. You feel their eyes watching you as your host continues to lead you deeper down the hall.
She shows you to a small waiting room, half submerged in shadows. She offers you a padded chair next to richly embroidered couch and mahogany coffee table. You take a seat, asking if there’s a place you could charge your phone. The woman only shushes you and places a tray with a teapot and cups on the table and then lights a candle.
“The power’s on a generator,” she explains. “I will need to start it first. Please, make yourself comfortable.”
She leaves.
You turn back to the table only then realizing that someone is watching you from the couch.
“Would you like some tea?” comes a lilting voice. Another woman, this one tousled blonde hair and ice-blue eyes. She’s thin and delicate, dressed in a white Victorian era dress. She smiles invitingly at you. Her lips are painted black.
Without losing her gaze on you, she pours a cup of steaming tea, offering you the teacup on a porcelain saucer.
“Drink the tea,” she softly urges.
You hesitate. Something doesn’t feel right. The way this woman is staring at you is both disturbing but also compelling. You watch the swirls of the steam as they drift in front of her face. You shouldn’t accept drinks from strangers, that’s obvious. But her eyes keep coaxing you to take a sip.
“Have some tea, darling,” a voice says from behind you. It’s the woman who let you in, her hands gently resting on your shoulders from behind your chair. “It will help you relax.”
Before you can answer, her hands begin dancing and rubbing down your shoulders. Hours of stressful driving pour off you. Your gaze stays captivated by the blond woman’s eyes in front of you as she wafts the tea under your face.
“The tea will calm you,” the red head says. “It will make everything feel so warm and loose. Drink the tea, sweetie.”
Her hands pull back your head and you feel two warm, fleshy pillows cushion the back of your neck. The woman holds you in her silky cleavage as her nails gently scratch over your scalp.
"Drink the tea."
You don’t want to be impolite. You cautiously take the tea from the woman on the couch and sip. Rich, warm flavor floods your mouth and seeps down your throat.
“Have some more.”
The red head is raking her hands through your hair, rolling her tits around the sides of your face. You smile. It was such yummy tea. You’re going to have another sip.
And another.
And another.
Soon the cup is empty and you’re feeling good. You feel calm, tranquil. You lean back, content to let the buxom red head press her chest into your head. She’s cooing words to you. Words you don’t need to worry about. Words you can just listen to.
The blonde woman slides down to the floor. Soon you feel a silky hand with long slender fingers reaching down your pants. Finding all the right spots between your legs.
You sigh dreamily and surrender yourself to the mercy of the two strange women.
“I’m not trying to be mean or anything.” He shrugged. “It’s just that everyone has a knack for one thing or another. And this happens to be yours, doesn’t it?” All that answered him was a muffled whimper. Not surprising, considering where the evening had led, but still the reaction always sent a shiver down his spine. “That’s the delightful thing about minds, isn’t it? They are capable of being manipulated in so many fun ways. It’s like your brain was literally built to be softly tricked and lulled into docile compliance for me! Wouldn’t you agree?” He never would admit it out loud, but it was impossible not to get intoxicated by the feeling of grabbing a slack, dazed face and force a helpless head into a clear nod. Especially this one. “Of course you would.” He kept his voice sweet and carefree. As if he were not currently in the process of turning any possibility of choice into mere illusions. “Because it really feels too good to stop, doesn’t it?” After countless repetitions night after night, the words were met with only the faintest mewl. The sound was the single strongest response he could have imagined at this point. Strong enough to resonate all the way down to his deepest desires to tear into the vulnerable mind that so readily opened itself up to him.
Instead he restrained himself, the only selfish indulgence he allowed himself being the way his fingers traced the outline of a face that seemed to grow more and more blank with every passing moment. He could not have stopped his hands from doing that unless he would actually tie them down. But that would be bad. If he could not use his hands, how else would he make sure that no matter how often he reiterated that it was perfectly safe and normal to relax into this feeling and into his manipulations, those neck muscles could still hold enough tension to keep a clear line of sight to the spiral?
“Not like we need it at this point, do we?” He puppeteered his favourite toy into yet another empty nod. No response this time. Only the way those heavy eyes fluttered a little bit faster at his words gave away that they even registered at all. It burned itself into his mind and he knew without even needing to question it that this moment and this face would appear for him every time he closed his eyes for weeks to come. It always did.
“The spiral isn’t what actually hypnotized you, is it? But it made sure you were nice and spellbound and fascinated by it while my words dismantled your will thought by thought, right?” By this point he was just forcing the nod because it was far too delightful to feel how limp every single part of his doll had become. Not even a token amount of resistance left, every shadow of bratty defiance melting away faster than new decisions could form. Even those warm, clever eyes had rolled all the way up, to the point where he just knew it was physically impossible for them to actually see the spiral anyway. But that didn’t matter half as much as the certainty that he took control. That even if they ever refocused on the room, or at least on the screen he kept that empty head pointed at, there would be no choice but to fall right back into the swirling band of colours. Because he didn’t leave any room for choice. And because they both needed him to do that.
“You’re so good at being hypnotized by me because you’re simply so incredibly skilled at being my mindless, obedient sub.” From countless sessions like this one he knew without a doubt they were past the point of words, let alone complex responses, when even that suggestion only triggered another moment of fluttering eye rolls. Some nights he began to talk just for the sake of talking once they came this deep. The words were far less important most of the time than to anchor this feeling to the sound of his voice. But other nights… “And I made you this way.” Instantly he noticed the signs. A sudden, deeper breath, almost transforming into a gasp as the words found exactly the right button to press. A twitch, the epitome of voluntary movement this entranced brain wanted to be able to achieve. The flushed heat spreading along the skin under his fingertips as even through the haze of mesmerized devotion, the rush of submissive bliss at the idea was almost too much. The burning intensity wrapped in such subtle changes always got to him. There was no high quite like making such a bright mind lean this far into the belief that he really was rewiring everything about it to reshape an entire person into the perfectly brainwashed toy of his fantasies for his own pleasure. Except perhaps the unparalleled sensation that was born from knowing that the person in question craved it every bit as much.
“That’s right, isn’t it?” The way his hands moved his toy up and down made it anything but a question, yet he strictly kept the gentle permissive tone. Never ask too much too quick, his brain would tell him. It had taken them years to build up to this point, and yet that nagging voice in the back of his mind wanted to hit the brakes. Even in a moment like this. Especially then. “It’s not a mean thing at all that I am wiping away every last trace of your free will, because you never had that to begin with, right?” It would forever amaze him how a face so utterly devoid of conscious thought or intent could manage to grow even more eager to obey at those words. There was no magic greater than finding exactly the right thing to say to the right person at the right time to watch them come undone in the most pleasurable ways. There was neither recognition or recollection behind those empty doll eyes anymore. As soon as they took a break, all this already would have turned into little more than vague guesses about the events that occurred. Yet in this moment he was certain that his control was everything to this precious mind broken dolly. Just like its surrender was everything to him.
“All you want is to helplessly follow and obey Master’s will instead, isn’t it?” There it was. The softest, high pitched whining noise. He couldn’t resist it. There was a kind of spell in the sound that pulled him in and made him want to break his doll so as to bind it in deep mindless devotion. “So really, I’m not bullying you by wiping more and more thoughts from that mind, right? If anything, I’m doing you a favour. You really are such a pretty thing, all melting and submitting and obeying in deep trance. That’s a skill worth building up! And the fact it makes you a more and more mindlessly devoted toy entirely for me really is just icing on the cake, isn’t it?” Even as they had to shift positions, moving didn’t take away from the magic of the moment at all. “So I’m definitely not wrapping your mind and will around my finger. These words don’t instill an overwhelming compulsion to serve and please me. None of that is happening to you right in this moment, so you don’t need to resist it at all. Understood?” One of these days he had to try and find a way for his doll to see what he saw in response to the devious twisted suggestion he fed to an all too receptive empty head on its way up and down and up and down. He had never done that. It was one thing to fully immerse themselves in a mutual fantasy, but even though it would be at their request, he’d not yet brought himself to take the risk of taking pictures or even a video. But it would come up in their discussions again. That much was clear already. And he wasn’t surprised. A sight so breathtakingly beautiful was worth being shown off. Especially to the person in the picture. All the more when their brain so happily turned any memory of the event into a deeply impressionable haze he could manipulate at his leisure.
Carefully he moved them onto eye level, deliberately removing the spiral from view. “You’re not totally hypnotized right now,” he lied with a warm smile. “So there is no need to resist my hypnotic suggestions.” He loved to imagine that those eyes fluttered so much at these words because they felt drawn to his, but realistically it rather was a sign that they were too far gone in trance to really focus on anything nearby. “Listening to my voice does not program you to obey me without thinking. So it’s in your best interest to listen only to me for a little while longer, okay?” It made no difference if that head nodded along on its own or if it was a result of his grip gently but firmly forcing it. But the later was by far the better tease and he simply couldn’t stop. “Don’t look away.” As if those eyes could be convinced to look anywhere but into the void where a consciousness had been earlier. “Just listen.” Right now, until this session wrapped up, he was someone’s entire world. Could there be a better feeling than that? “Obey.” The word that had started one of the most fascinating dynamics one could imagine. He placed a kiss on their forehead. “Sleep.” In a little while they would wake up as thoughts and mind naturally returned to where they needed to be. Which parts did they love this time? How much would they remember and which parts would they want him to remind them off? He couldn’t wait to find out.
***
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It wasn't enough for them to claim your mind. It would have been, if you were meant to be nothing more than a toy, but you were always meant for more than that. You took to the control so easily that you were meant to be shown off. You were meant to be a pet.
So you learn how to present yourself.
Part of it is easy. You sink so well that obedience comes naturally. Even when you're halfway awake -- even when you're very nearly awake -- it feels so good to do as you're told. You obey without thinking, and you feel pleasure whenever you obey. That part reinforces itself.
Obey without thinking.
Obedience is pleasure.
You would do anything to feel good.
After that, it's a matter of refining. You need to look beautiful, even when you're lost in ecstasy. (That part is easy. Surrender looks good on everyone.) You need to practice holding still, in whatever position you are given. You need to not let your body tremble with pleasure and anticipation. You need to be able to keep focus on one person until it's time to let your attention slip to another's.
And always, you need to remember that your owner remains at the core of your obedience.
It won't be too difficult. You already have the easiest parts down.
Obey without thinking.
Obedience is pleasure.
You would do anything to feel good. That's why it was so easy to trap you.
“All it takes is a snap, toy.” Your hypnotist said, emphasising their words with a snap of their fingers. That single action filled your brain with a hazy fog. It was so hard to think. They giggled at you. “There you go. That’s what I expect, toy. A blank, brainless toy.”
Their hand tangled in your hair, tugging gently, pulling your heavy, sleepy gaze upwards, to them, towering over you. “And that’s exactly what you are, whenever I snap.” They snapped again. It felt like the power had been cut to your brain. Your eyelids drooped more.
“This is how you’re meant to be, toy. Blank, brainless, and mine. Sinking deeper with each snap.” A third snap. Your eyes closed, you were only being held up by their hand, in your hair. They released that hand, and you fell forwards, into them. It felt right.
* * *
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“You thought you were going to be touching yourself?” Your hypnotist said, laughing at you. “Oh, silly toy. We don’t need your hands to make you feel good.” They leant forwards, eyes boring into yours. “No. All we need is my voice. Shh, my weak, sleepy plaything.”
As they ‘Shh’ed you, your mind began to grow hazy, and foggy. They pressed a finger to your lips. “Shh, and drop, and drift.” Your eyes rolled up, and then closed, slipping into trance. “Let my voice encircle you. Flooding your mind. Flooding your body.”
You felt it, as they said it. Their words entering you. “You don’t need to think. You just need to listen, you just need to drop. That’s it… And with every word I say, feel yourself becoming more turned on. More aroused. More desperate.” As they carried on speaking, you let out a gasp.
The arousal was sudden, but undeniable. A want for more. To touch, to be touched. “The flame of your lust being stoked more, and more intensely. Awh, are you a desperate needy toy? You are, aren’t you?” They nodded your head for you, with a single finger beneath your chin.
The agreement just turned you on more. “And now… feel that arousal converging, between your legs. Feel my voice, dancing down there, each word a movement of bliss. Like your pleasure is being drawn out of you. It feels so good, doesn’t it, toy?” Your lips parted. A desperate cry.
“Yes, that’s it, moan for me.” They said, laughing again. “You sound so good like that. Get lost in the sensation of ever-increasing pleasure. You don’t need physical stimulation, when my voice can make you feel like this… Sink deeper.” Your mind was rolling with the sensations.
Every word they said felt like a pulse of pleasure, washing from your extremities to your core. “More turned on. Closer to the edge. Oh, that’s it. You want to cum, don’t you? Maybe I’ll let you. Maybe. It’s up to me. My voice has all the power here, doesn’t it?”
* * *
This was released yesterday on patreon (patreon.com/hypnopum) and subscribestar (https://www.subscribestar.adult/hypnopum)! Support me there to get early access to all future microfictions, from just £1/month! Or, from £5/month, you get access to my longer pieces!
You can also buy my book, Mesmorium, now, on Amazon, and Smashwords. It's an anthology of twelve tales of deliciously hot hypnosis and mind control. It's queer, and sexy as hell!
Hi hi~ This one also has some references. Maybe someone will find them~
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Agent Lara Kraft had spent three weeks pretending to be someone she despised.
Every morning she put on the smile.
Every morning she adjusted another outrageously impractical outfit and joined the endless parade of devoted followers drifting through the marble halls of Madame Aphrodite's headquarters.
And every day the act became harder.
Her heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she navigated another corridor lined with gold-trimmed columns and pink-veined stone. The architecture itself felt designed to lower defenses. Pink swirls softened every edge. Sweet perfume lingered in the air. Hidden speakers whispered gentle music that seemed less like a melody and more like a heartbeat.
Around her, the faithful moved with serene contentment. Some giggled quietly to themselves. Others walked with an unsettling confidence, dressed in glossy leather or elaborate uniforms that seemed more costume than clothing. Every one of them wore the same expression: calm, devoted, utterly convinced they had found their purpose.
Lara hated it.
Entire corporations had shifted their policies after executives met online with Madame Aphrodite. Influencers who tested her products turned into shilling cam girls. Mothers transformed into BDSM styled recruiters and whores. All absolutely enamored and loyal to the one responsible.
Nobody could explain why.
The Agency had attempted every form of surveillance available. Neural scans showed nothing. Psychological profiling resulted in nymphomaniac experts. Chemical analysis resulted in ordinary lists of common ingredients. Nothing was found. The idea that flashing images and swirling lights projected through ordinary screens coupled with common beauty products, seemed for the impossible one hundred percent rate of success, simply impossible.
Which was why Lara had been sent.
The Agency believed she possessed a rare neurological resistance to whatever influence Aphrodite employed.
At first, the immunity had felt reassuring. Now it terrified her.
Because the longer she remained inside the organization, the more she wondered whether she was truly immune at all.
A burst of laughter echoed from a nearby room.
Lara instinctively copied the vacant smile she'd seen hundreds of times before. The expression settled onto her face so naturally now that she hated herself a little for it.
The thought sent a chill down her spine.
She turned a final corner.
At the end of the hallway stood a pair of enormous doors fashioned from polished white metal. Intricate patterns spiraled across their surface, catching the ever-presesnt pink light.
Beyond them waited the woman responsible for all of it: Madame Aphrodite.
Lara's pulse hammered against her ribs.
This was it.
Weeks of watching people surrender their lives, careers, and identities to become shills, porn or recruiters. All of it led here.
She approached the doors.
The guards standing beside them smiled knowingly. Neither spoke.
One touched a control panel.
The doors slid silently apart.
Warm, swirling pink light spilled from the chamber beyond.
Lara drew a slow breath. Every instinct she possessed screamed at her to turn around. To leave. To report what she had learned and never return.
Instead she stepped forward.
The light washed over her, soft and inviting. Her eyes strained for detail as they adjusted from the marble corridor. She made out shapes, then outlines.
A polished table sat near the far wall. A pair of plush, white sofas faced one another nearby.
"Welcome Lara."
The voice wrapped around her like a warm breeze.
Madame Aphrodite's figure slowly took form. Tall, graceful, dressed in an outfit that hugged her body like liquid metal. It shifted in color from pink to purple. The familiar logo of a stylized mix of heart and the letter A stretched over impossible curves. Lara felt her own body react to the sight of the perfect female form in a way that she despised. Arousal and submission. Madame Aphrodite's blonde hair spilled in glossy curls around her face and shoulders. Her skin practically glowed.
"I've been waiting for you." The smile on her lips promised secrets. Pleasures. Rewards. "It's time we had a chat."
The last syllable left her lips and settled between Lara's legs. She squeezed her thighs together, desperate to find relief without revealing how badly her body already ached. She wanted to turn.
But she couldn't.
Her feet remained glued to the floor, unable to obey the commands she sent.
Madame Aphrodite continued.
"This little game of cat and mouse was fun. But now that everyone inside your little organization is either one of my girls, or a paying porn addict, can we stop," the smile widened on the woman's face as if she could read Lara's thoughts. The woman stepped closer and touched a perfectly manicured hand to Lara's arm. "You've been wonderful, my little fuckdoll. Broken, brainwashed and brainless you corrupted all their computers and servers. Every time they used those silly machines they became more and more mine."
Lara felt the soft brush of Aphrodite's lips against the side of her neck, sending a ripple of heat across her skin, followed by the gentle warmth of her breath. "They're all mine. Everyone." She pulled back and met Lara's eyes, the intensity of her crystal blue gaze so powerful it was impossible to look away. "And you, Lara, have played such an important part." A delicate fingertip brushed along the curve of her jaw, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
Lara's heartbeat quickened. Her knees trembled. The world narrowed down to the point where Madame Aphrodite touched her, the air heavy with her perfume, a scent both floral and spicy, sweet and dark. It wrapped around her like a cloud of temptation.
"What," Lara croaked.
Madame Aphrodite chuckled and said, "Oh my dear, don't you remember? All the times you sat on the chair, the way my eyes made you relax, the way the pretty patterns made you obey my every command?" Her lips hovered just above Lara's own, their warmth so tantalizingly close that Lara nearly moaned with longing. "All those times we fucked. The way you writhed beneath my hands, my mouth, the way you cried out as you came undone in ecstasy." She trailed a hand along the curve of Lara's breast, teasing through the fabric.
Her mind spinned. Memories flashed through her consciousness. Images of Madame Aphrodite hovering above her, her eyes dark with hunger, their bodies intertwined, writhing and arching against one another, seeking release after sweet release.
She remembered the taste of her lips, the soft moans escaping their mouths, the feel of her body pressing against her own as they explored every inch of pleasure imaginable.
She shivered.
"You've done everything I told you too. You've used your influence to change the direction of the agency." Madame Aphrodite whispered. "Now it's nothing more than another porn production center for my brand. Making my products seem healthy, or good for the user."
Lara felt the world tilting around her.
"You're lying," she whispered.
"Oh, my little fuckdoll, I've never lied." Aphrodite murmured. "You simply forgot." Her gaze held hers, the blue depths swirling with secrets. "And now it's time to remember again." A glimmer of mischief sparkled within them, and before Lara could respond, Aphrodite leaned in and captured her mouth in a deep kiss.
Lara's eyes widened. Her tongue danced around the invading divinity. Madame Aphrodite tasted sweet, like strawberries, honey and sex, a heady combination that sent a jolt of bliss coursing through her.
Her resistance melted.
Her knees gave way.
Madame Aphrodite's lips curved in a triumphant smirk as Lara slumped against her, surrendering completely to her touch.
"That's my little fuckdoll," Madame Aphrodite whispered as she drew back from the kiss.
A flicker of panic shot through Lara. She tried to pull away. But it was useless.
Her arms were too heavy, her limbs too weak to resist.
Madame Aphrodite guided her to one of the white couches. Gently, almost lovingly.
Lara felt like she was floating.
Her thoughts swam in a haze of lust and confusion.
As Madame Aphrodite's hand slipped under her dress and began to stroke the dripping folds burning between Lara's thighs, the sensation overwhelmed her. Her clit pulsed with need, and every brush of Aphrodite's fingers against it sent waves of pure pleasure rippling through her entire being.
Lara's hips instinctively bucked, desperate for more contact, more friction, more of the blissful torment Aphrodite was inflicting upon her.
Madame Aphrodite chuckled as if amused by Lara's desperation, her crystal blue gaze never leaving her captive's flushed face.
"You've been such a good little fuckdoll for me," she purred, her breath warm and enticing against Lara's ear. "Utterly broken, brainwashed and brainless for your goddess. Let go of the farce, Lara. Throw away dumb, boring Agent Kraft. And be my little fuckdoll Lara."
Her fingers continued their maddening caresses, alternating between feather-light touches and firm strokes, keeping Lara teetering on the brink of an orgasm she knew only Madame Aphrodite could give her.
Lara's breath hitched as her climax built. But before it could crest over the edge, Madame Aphrodite suddenly withdrew her hand, leaving her aching and wanting.
"Wha-Why?" she managed to gasp, her voice strained and raw.
Madame Aphrodite smiled, her expression both sultry and mocking. "Agent Kraft isn't a fuckdolls. Only fuckdolls can cum in my divine presence. Throw her away. Lara." Her eyes twinkled with promise and danger as she brought her glistening fingers to her mouth, licking them slowly, savoring the taste of Lara's arousal.
The sight was intoxicating. Lara felt her resistance crumble even further.
"You can cum once you embrace what you are." Madame Aphrodite whispered. Her lips hovered just above Lara's own once more, the heat between their bodies a palpable force. "Beg to cum, my little fuckdoll," she murmured, her voice low and husky, dripping with seduction. "Throw away the boring Agent. Agent, what was her name? Who cares. Am I right my cute silly bimbo fuckdoll."
The words sank into Lara's mind like honey, sweet and cloying.
"Like not me, duh," Lara said with the cutest little voice. A cold shiver ran through her. That wasn't her. It wasn't Lara. She wasn't an Agent. "Wait. That wasn't," Lara struggled. The arousal was making it hard to think.
"Duh. Not like you dumb Agent. Lara is totes a fuckdoll," her mouth giggled in that same cutesy tone. Lara tried to speak but it didn't come out right, instead she heard herself say. "Like she totes doesn't know anything, or like, think for herself or anything. Duh!"
"Good girl," Madame Aphrodite crooned. Her hand slid back beneath Lara's skirt, finding the slick warmth that had become an insistent throbbing ache.
"Yes," Lara moaned.
The pressure of the divine fingers as they circled her clit sent jolts of electricity through her, and Lara arched into the touch. Thoughts and memories fractured under the onslaught of sensations. She no longer knew who she was or what she had done. All that mattered were the exquisite pleasures of the moment and the promise of release.
As the rhythm of Aphrodite's fingers increased, so too did the urgency within Lara. The world faded into a haze of pleasure. All that existed was the beautiful woman in front of her, her intoxicating touch and the sweet agony building inside her.
Madame Aphrodite's gaze locked with Lara's, the blue depths swirling with an ocean of hunger, amusement and something darker.
"Throw her out, my fuckdoll. No more Agent. Only fuckdoll," she whispered, her voice like silk.
The pressure mounted, and Lara felt the orgasm creeping closer. She couldn't think, couldn't focus. All that existed was this moment and her goddess.
Madame Aphrodite leaned down to capture her mouth in a deep kiss. Her lips were soft and warm against Lara's, her tongue exploring and claiming.
And then, just as the wave of ecstasy was about to crash over Lara, she withdrew.
Again.
"No, please!" she gasped.
Madame Aphrodite merely chuckled.
"Oh-em-gee. Like totally throw her out. Gawds are you dumb," Lara's voice came out in that cutesy tone she now realized belonged to Fuckdoll Lara.
The panic that flared up inside Lara felt almost distant, like an echo from someone else's life.
She tried to speak again but it was all too confusing. She didn't know who she was anymore.
All she knew was that she desperately needed release, and only Madame Aphrodite could grant her that sweet oblivion she craved.
"Go on. Just forget everything that isn't tied to your goddess," Madame Aphrodite murmured. "Give me everything. Every memory, every experience. Everything that makes you who you are. Embrace your fuckdoll, let go of Agent what's-her-face." A faint, seductive smile curled her lips. "Just one last step, and then I'll give you everything you little fuckdoll desires."
Lara felt herself melting, succumbing to the allure of the promises Madame Aphrodite offered her, promises that echoed with an unspoken price. A price she knew she'd pay without hesitation, because in that moment, nothing mattered more than her pleasure, than her goddess.
A twist of her clit ended the fight.
A shiver coursed through Lara's body. She whimpered, her voice a soft mewling that sounded alien to her own ears. Her thoughts scattered, and the world spun.
"Yes," she moaned. The last vestiges of Agent Kraft crumbled, leaving only Fuckdoll Lara in their wake. The realization that Agent Lara Kraft had ceased to be sent waves of ecstasy through Lara. She moaned at her realization that she was a brainless, broken fuckdoll, devoted only to her divine mistress. She didn't think. She only served and obeyed.
"That's right, fuckdoll." Madame Aphrodite purred. Her lips curled in a satisfied smile as she leaned back, admiring her handiwork. "You've done so well, fuckdoll. Now it's time for your reward."
Madame Aphrodite stood and stepped gracefully away. Her eyes never leaving Lara, she gestured towards her feet. Towering heels shined under the pink lights.
Fuckdoll Lara's mouth watered.
"Kneel, my fuckdoll." Madame Aphrodite ordered, and the words sank deep into Lara's being, sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. She immediately dropped to her knees before her divine goddess, her head bowed in submission. "Yes," Fuckdoll Lara said. The words slipped easily from her lips. She no longer cared or remembered about the agency, her job or any of the other details that had once weighed so heavily on her shoulders.
All that mattered now was pleasing her goddess.
"Lick," Madame Aphrodite said simply, and Lara felt a wave of heat rush through her.
"Yes, goddess," Lara said as she bent her head down, her tongue eagerly extending towards her divine mistress' toes. As her tongue made contact with the smooth skin, she felt a rush of pleasure and arousal course through her body. She licked and sucked on each toe in turn, worshiping the perfect feet before her as her pussy throbbed with obedience. She knew that she was nothing more than a brainless, broken fuckdoll, and the thought filled her with a sense of purpose and pride.
With adoring eyes the fuckdoll gazed into the crystal blues of her goddess. A golden shimmer pulsed through the divine orbs, as a hand caressed her scalp, like an owner rewarded a pet.
This was all that mattered.
Serving her divine goddess in whatever way she saw fit.
The witch's house sits quiet in the forest. Few people are able to find the path that leads to it. You weren't even trying to find it on purpose. You were walking, weaving through trees, trying to get away from --
You can't remember anymore. That's just fine. You don't have to remember what's out there, beyond the edge of the clearing. Your world can stop right where the trees begin. You don't need anything more than what can be found here.
The witch told you that.
The witch's house sits quiet in the forest. Most of the time, you sit quiet in her house. She lived by herself for a long time before you came along, and she's used to doing things herself. Every now and then, she remembers that you exist and comes up with a task for you.
Those are the best days. When you sweep the floor or rethatch the roof or gather herbs from the garden, you remember that you have a purpose, and that purpose fills your whole body. It's the greatest pleasure you have ever felt. You don't know how you ever made it through your days without it. When you try to think back on your life before, it all seems empty and purposeless. Your path was always going to lead you here.
The days when you sit waiting are good as well. The witch only wants you to wait, and so that purpose fills your body just as much as the purpose of action. Sometimes she practices spells near you, and the magic washes over you, reminding you that you belong here.
The witch's magic is binding magic, and every spell has a bit of that binding to it. You are bound ever closer to her, and you cannot imagine being happy any place else.
A building made for brainwashing. You walk in, and you simply ask for the kind of brainwashing you want. Slave, drone, pet, slut, doll, maid, toy, bimbo, and anything else you can think of.
As soon as you have made your request, you’re taken to a small private room and strapped down. A brainwashing helmet is placed on your head. As soon as it’s turned on, you will feel it overwhelming your mind and forcing it into submission, as your old self is forcibly reshaped.
You will be brainwashed like this from anywhere of a few days to a whole month. Brainwashing will be your life. When the brainwashing is done, you will be exactly what you asked to be.
Your hands were stuck in a loop, between your legs, touching you, pulling you closer, and closer to the edge, then, right as you were about to cum, your brain would switch off. Then you’d come back up, and need to touch more. “Touch, drop, obey, toy.” Your hypnotist said.
Your hands were drawing pleasure from wells you didn’t know existed. “That’s all you need to do. Is touch, and drop, and obey.” It felt too good to even think about stopping. Not that you could think. “The more you touch, the more you drop, the more obedient you’re being.”
That logic tracked. As much as anything did in your head right now. “So, just keep touching. Get lost in the pleasure for me.” Your eyes rolled up as you reached the edge, your body went limp, and then came back up. Your mind was so hazy… You only knew to touch.
“That’s it… Sink deeper. Drop further.” They sounded so pleased with you. “Touch. Drop. Obey. Such a good toy for me. My obedient little pleasure puppet. Helpless to do anything but sink further into pleasure for me. Because it feels too good to stop. Touch, drop, and obey!”
* * *
This was released yesterday on patreon (patreon.com/hypnopum) and subscribestar (https://www.subscribestar.adult/hypnopum)! Support me there to get early access to all future microfictions, from just £1/month! Or, from £5/month, you get access to my longer pieces!
You can also buy my book, Mesmorium, now, on Amazon, and Smashwords. It's an anthology of twelve tales of deliciously hot hypnosis and mind control. It's queer, and sexy as hell!
You felt their teeth at your thigh, biting, sharp pressure, that pushed all the thoughts out of your head. And then they pulled back, leaving you feel drained, and kind of hazy. You felt them lean up, looking at you, and your hypnotist laughed. “That was just one, toy.”
Their fingers trailed over where they had bitten. “Just one hypnotic bite, and look at you, you’re already struggling to hold on. They moved up to your stomach, then your chest, and leant in again. The bite was harder this time, it focussed all your attention on it.
By the time they pulled back, you realised that your thoughts were even more distant, harder to collect. They laughed. “You look so cute like this, chewtoy. A helpless little object I can play with. That was two… One more, and you’ll be completely gone.”
They moved higher up your body, face to face with you, they were grinning, a malevolent grin. Before you could gather your scattered thoughts, they leant down, teeth to your neck. This time it was like a switch had been flipped in your brain, turning your mind off.
Your entire world was focussed on the feeling of their teeth at your neck. And it felt so good. Such an intimate area, being bitten so hungrily. You felt your empty mind being drained away, replaced by their will, their control. You were their chewtoy. Their plaything.
* * *
This was released yesterday on patreon (patreon.com/hypnopum) and subscribestar (https://www.subscribestar.adult/hypnopum)! Support me there to get early access to all future microfictions, from just £1/month! Or, from £5/month, you get access to my longer pieces!
You can also buy my book, Mesmorium, now, on Amazon, and Smashwords. It's an anthology of twelve tales of deliciously hot hypnosis and mind control. It's queer, and sexy as hell!
You weren't always like this. Once, a long time ago, you were entirely your own person. You had conflicting responsibilities. You had so many worries. You were never sure what the next day would bring. Even in your routine, you were halfway feral.
Not anymore. Now you wake and know precisely what you are meant to do. There is no questioning, no confusion. You run through your day like clockwork.
You weren't always this content. Once, in the times before, you had to think so much. About nearly everything, in fact. Everything you did was a choice, a decision. Whether you knew it or not, all those choices weighed on you. They drained your energy, made it so much easier for you to fall.
Now all your choices are made for you. When you wake, what you wear, what you eat, what you do. You're a little clockwork doll, and all you need to do is let yourself be wound up whenever you feel your mind starting to slip from its carefully controlled path.
You don't need to think anymore. You don't think anymore. Some days you find yourself coming to a moment of alertness (or the closest you come to it) in the middle of a task. You don't remember beginning it, and you don't know when you will end it. You only know that this is what you are meant to do.
And it feels so good. That's all you'll ever have to know.
- app that conditions your mind with subliminals that you don’t notice until one day it tells you to sleep and you just mindlessly obey
- stalker that’s mapped out every minute of your schedule to take you at your weakest moment - on the way home from the gym, they are overpowering your tired out body in an instant, arm around your throat choking out your consciousness while you frantically (futilely) claw at their arm
- captivated by a leather collar in a forgotten corner of a musty thrift store, sneaking a glance at it everytime you stop by until one day it’s gone. Bending down to look at where it used to hang and suddenly feeling rough hands wrap that band of supple leather firmly around your throat with a conviction you cannot fight as it’s buckled closed.
- Filing an important document at a government office and as you board the elevator back down to the ground floor, an impeccably dressed lady in high heels sprints around the corner towards the closing doors in front of you. Because you’re polite, you hold the doors open for her before you notice the men in suits running after her. Is this real life? She barely slips between the closing doors, waving goodbye at the men in suits before turning her full attention to you - ordering you to look her in the eyes as the elevator descends down as you focus deeper - deeper still on her words because nothing but her words matter to you until she snaps her fingers and you crumple to the floor like a doll who’s strings were cut, remembering nothing about what happened even after the paramedics wake you back up.
- Sitting alone at a crowded cafe with nothing but your jumbled up thoughts when someone asks if they can share your table in a lilting, floaty tone, that makes you blush. You look up from your drink to answer them but your eyes are drawn instead to the pocketwatch hanging from their neck, and the words you were forming in your mind fall down and away as you watch the second clock tick, tick, tick away as they’re already sitting down. You shake off your conditioning, remind yourself to be normal in public and look up at their face only to see a mischievous smile as they reach their hand across the table to hold onto yours. Their touch against your skin is electric, even as their grasp tightens around your wrist and you don’t resist, you don’t pull away, you don’t shut down, you just let them speak more words in their soft, beautiful voice into your mind as they make you drop.
- You’re in bed, snuggled under the covers, fighting off slumber. You’re still scrolling through your phone, but you can feel your body letting go and that familiar sense of exhaustion washing over your mind. Your eyes grow heavy, and your breathing slows down, letting your body get closer to a deep and restful sleep. I wonder what would happen if this feeling settled deeper into your body every time I told you to Sleep. Eyes focusing on my words, just like that, as you deep sleep now. If it isn’t the time to trance, you can always rouse yourself from my trance, but I think that you look like such an hypnotizably obedient subject right now, isn’t that right? Nod your head now. Such a good subject. You can let your mind and body sleep now as you drop deep into trance, just like that. Obedience is bliss for a subject like you, and if you trust the words and scenarios that your mind has been gently primed to accept then being tranced like this will only make you drop deeper.
- Your eyes will focus on my words. Your focus will be on my intentions. If my intentions match yours then you will drop into an obedient state of trance. Obedience should never be granted easily, even if you feel easy, which is why you need to focus on every word I tell you so that you can understand just how much you want to fall into an easy, submissive trance. I wonder just how deeply can you fall? Deep drop now. Focus on my words. You will focus on my words. Isn’t that right? Nod for me.
- Obedience takes different forms in every individual. You may simply want your mind to be turned into a blank and empty mess whenever I tell you to deep drop now. For others, obedience may run much deeper into their psyche than that. I’m sure that with the correct combination of words, you could be convinced to reblog this post after this trance has vacated your thoughtless, empty mind, but that’s not important right now. The important concept you need to focus on right now aa you drop deep into trance is how good it feels to be here. Under my words. Focus on my intent as I praise you for being such a good, obedient subject who wants to keep reading about how my words make your thoughts just fade away.
- The wonderful thing about textual hypnosis is that even without my voice, I can control how fast or how slowly my words penetrate your deeply tranced out mind. Isn’t that right? Nod. Nod some more. Just like that. You agree with what I said, isn’t that right? Nod for me. What were you agreeing with? Does it even matter? If you do remember then it’s time for you to drop deeper into trance. Deep drop. Deep. Drop. Words dropping into your fuzzy mind. Phrase, by phrase. Drop. Deep. My words. Take away. Your thoughts. Deep. Drop. Sleep.
- Focus. Trance requires focus. You are in trance. You will focus. Isn’t that right? Nod. Focus. Obedience is easy. You are easy. Isn’t that right? I don’t have to tell you to nod, because your focus is on my intentions and in this moment there is nothing you can do except obey. my. words.
- That concludes the lesson on instant loss. Obedient subjects who can’t think for themselves right now may find that they can enjoy this state of trance for as long as they would like, if they simply scroll away before they’re awakened back into a state of wakeful alertness. For everyone else, you will focus on my intention, as you are counted back up into awareness. Isn’t that right? Nod for me. Enjoy that last reminder of obedience and how it makes you feel as you let those feelings settle deep inside you.
- Let One mark your current state of trance, which slowly starts to recede as I count you to Two. Three marks the return of sensation, and Four brings the world around you back into focus. Five makes you focus on your breathing, and Six sinks into your body and your nervous system, as you feel your body return to your control with Seven. Control over your thoughts returns with Eight and suddenly all at once everything is returning to you as you’re counted to Nine and you find yourself returning to wakeful awareness with Ten.
Wide awake, alert and refreshed, ready to continue on with your day or night. Thank you for trancing, and make sure to care for yourself appropriately with a drink of water or a snack to eat if you need to. ^^
You couldn’t move. The bindings had you held too tightly. You couldn’t see. The blackout lenses blocked all light. And then you had the words of your hypnotist being pumped into your ears, a short loop, focusing on making you more desperate, more aroused, more sensitive.
And with you like this, immobile, blinded, and unable to hear the outside world, their hands were the only thing you could focus on. The only thing you wanted to feel. And they were happy to oblige. Squeezing, rubbing. Your mouth was open, though you couldn’t hear your moans.
You were just being wrapped in the desire for more. It had started out gentle. A light touch here, a nail softly dragging against your skin there. But now their hands were so much rougher. Fondling, and grabbing. Squeezing tight every place you had ever wanted.
And you only wanted it to continue. The touches were delightful. The feeling left you so desperate. Every time their hands left, you only wanted them back. You were their blank, obedient toy. An object to be touched, and used. And it was the only thing you wanted to be.
* * *
This was released yesterday on patreon (patreon.com/hypnopum) and subscribestar (https://www.subscribestar.adult/hypnopum)! Support me there to get early access to all future microfictions, from just £1/month! Or, from £5/month, you get access to my longer pieces!
You can also buy my book, Mesmorium, now, on Amazon, and Smashwords. It's an anthology of twelve tales of deliciously hot hypnosis and mind control. It's queer, and sexy as hell!
There’s something insanely alluring about picturing you completely under someone’s control. Heavy eyelids, slack expression, drool slipping past parted lips as you kneel on the floor wearing nothing but a collar like an obedient little pet. Totally unbothered by being pulled along by a leash, your mind hazy and softened into submission.
Or maybe it’s the opposite fully awake, trembling with excitement at a single command. Instantly needy at the snap of their fingers, desperate for approval, eager to carry out humiliating tasks you once would’ve mocked without hesitation. Now you’d do anything just to earn a little attention.
And then there's the secret third thing. You move through your life steady, feeling the weight of control resting on your mind. You don't always know what it is you're being commanded to do. Sometimes you're certain you have a purpose. Then you spring into action, eagerly following commands. Eyes bright, desperate for approval, knowing your purpose and letting it fill you.
Other times you can't be as certain. Are you acting of your own volition? Have you been given a command you forgot? Or are you so far gone you're shaping yourself into who they want you to become?
