Fibrous Threads in Infinite Frost

I'm trans, >25 y.o., and used to be on tumblr a long time ago. I'm back to post and read about various kinks, including hypnosis. 18+.

[hemipenal-system]

human inferiority kink hypnosis file

[bebsi-cola]

if your neuro diversity activism doesn't include people with psychosis then it's worthless I'm not sorry to say

[ddumbfuckk]

welp, my rent wont be covered next month so im going to start raising now cuz its quite an amount >.< 0/680

pp Azriel69420 kofi azrlazrl

[ddumbfuckk]

still at 0/680

[recursivewitch]

dick from a woman who loves you so much she's scared she's gonna hurt you

[kinell]

I truly believe a lubed up handjob at a pace so slow it’s verging on torturous given by a cute girl with a sadistic smile on her face actually cures depression

[cervusbites]

Eating out someone’s wound while they whimper and squirm… feeling their warm blood drip on to my tongue as they gasp, the gentle lapping of my tongue sending flashes of pleasurable white hot pain through their body 🖤

[sadocanine]

What is a no choices night?

Imagine for a moment that the clock strikes 6pm and from this point forward, you are no longer in charge of anything that happens. You respond to instructions only. If you reach a decision point, you ask for direction. Ideally there's protocol on common things, how to ask for food, the bathroom, water. No choices means no choices. If you're not allowed to do something specifically, you cannot do it.

If you're instructed to do something, you do it without thinking. You just follow directions. For me, the ideal version of this allows me to be nonverbal, collared and leashed. I am not to go beyond the reach of my leash without explicit instructions. If I'm told to do something in a specific way, I carry out the task as instructed.

This could mean I'm using my mouth on the person holding my lead, giving them oral exactly how they tell me to. It could mean cooking them a meal. We watch what they put on the TV, we go where they say we go, we do what they say we're doing. No choices means no choices.

Clear?

[intramomnition]

your captor ruined your life by taking you.

you think.

they're weird. they have all kinds of strange rituals and routines that they follow, and soon enough you're pulled into them. your entire life is run on their schedule; it's stifling, at first, but the consistency is so much more comfortable than having to make so many choices. you occupy yourself with the tasks they've given you while you wait for their return home from work, and then your night routine starts.

you don't even realize that you've began to wait at the door of your own volition; once they see you so ready and willing, they train you to be a bit more proper. sat back on your legs, hands up in the air and curled against your chest like paws the moment you hear the door unlocking. now, you get to see them smile when they walk in the door. they're proud of your progress, and the sensation makes an uncomfortable warmth spread through your chest.

they change out of their work clothes and decompress while you start on dinner. they have a recipe book you've relied on since day one, and luckily they're not picky about your cooking skill. you've improved, you know, and that fills you with the same sick sense of satisfaction as the welcome-home-posturing. your dear captor never really talks much, but they begin to tell you extra pieces of information, little by little. trivial pieces of their daily life and happenings, and if you're lucky, maybe some news about the world outside.

and after dinner, it's time for your favorite part. they sit down on the couch and pat their lap, and you crawl up and snuggle on top of them. they embrace you and hold you close against their chest, burying their face against your neck. the little bell on your collar jingles as they press their lips against your neck, moving the smooth leather aside for access at the soft flesh. you're their lapdog, you think happily.

isn't it so lovely to be useful?

[muzzlehours]

“leave a girl out in the cold until she’ll do anything to come back in” season is starting in the northern hemisphere for those who celebrate

[meanrunt]

holding a plastic bag over my friends head and making out with her through the plastic while she suffocated did something to my brain

[ace-trainer-alice]

"Bad end" kink is really hot. I talk a lot about signifiers vs substance in kink, and I think bad end is another one of the weird examples. I tend to see bad ends not as a single kink but as a set is ideas associated primarily by their aesthetics.

The idea of this being an ending. A bad ending. You could have won, you could have escaped, you could have gotten out of here. But you didn't, you lost. You put on the collar and lost the ability to say no. You stared into my eyes a little too long and lost the last of your INT. You froze at the wrong moment and lost the most important fight. And now destiny is broken and you can't save anyone anymore, so you're just going to be my toy forever and ever now, okay?

It's fun. The idea of forever. The idea of endings. Don't you want to not have to fight anymore? Don't your want permission to just let go? Isn't loss seductive? I like the dialogue between what you're supposed to do, what you're obligated to do, what you're compelled to do, and what you want to do, what feels good, what you desire. It's interesting.

[pandabearpolarbear]

Nonsexual domming...where you see how I get frozen and overwhelmed with indecision and responsibility so you simply tell me what to do.

Stop working, go eat.

Stop cleaning, go shower.

Treat yourself, order this particular food.

Go get this certain snack.

Show me what you worked on today!

Take a ten minute break.

Wow, you did all that??

Put that away and go to bed.

You're doing great, you've done enough for today.

I'm proud of you! Let's celebrate🥂

[holipop-art]

[old art] harness

[serenadeformice-deactivated2025]

When the day finally comes, I bombard you with presents and affection and good food. You've been eating nothing but scraps for the last month, so no amount of suspicion can hold you back--even though chewing too much sends waves of pain through your jaw in the spots where I've removed some of your teeth. "Congratulations!" I lean down over the dog bed I've been keeping you in. Instinctively you pull back, fearing that I might be hiding the pliers behind my back like last time. What happens instead is unexpected-- I cup your cheek in one hand and unattach the leash bound to your collar from the radiator with the other. For the first time in thirty days I lead you upstairs. I even let you walk upright, I must be feeling generous. When we reach the spacious living room above you this entire time you're slammed by the sight of moonlight pouring in through the windows. You almost start to cry. Am I letting you go? Is this the end of it?

I tug on your leash. You're pulled along, then down into my lap as I sit on one of the lounge's excessively soft sofas. My grip is firm, your limbs are so exhausted from how hard you've been fighting and how little you've eaten, so it's far from difficult to overpower you. I turn your head around and point you to the television screen, where a newscast has been paused. You start feeling a cold dread seep through you. That's your face on screen, in a little box edited in above the newscaster. I hit play.

"...declared dead by authorities today after the discovery of teeth matching dental records in a riverbank. This comes after a grueling month of searching. A police statement has ruled the official cause of death as an animal attack..."

"You're dead." I smile. The television fades to noise behind you as I grip your chin and force you to look at me, my eyes so loving and soft. I start to kiss you and there's nothing you can do to pull away. Nobody is coming for you anymore. Even if you did get away, your life is for all purposes over--your own funeral will be held soon, an empty casket lowered into the ground by a grave with your name on it. I don't seem to notice when you start to cry.

"Welcome to the rest of forever, sweetheart."

[violetmausoleum]

i just wanna get high while someones between my legs giving me orgasms over and over and over again

[soft-mommy-nb]

Guard dog submissive that loves you so much and would do anything to keep you safe and happy and also melts completely under your gaze, falling to their knees at your command

[serenadeformice-deactivated2025]

There's such a beautiful and intimate violence to renaming a girl, I think. "I love you, I love you so much I killed the person you used to be so you could blossom into something better. I tore out the word that used to mean 'you' and replaced it with something that means 'I am loved.' Even if you don't want this love." Grinding your sense of self away, your attachment to any feeble bits of identity you once held close and replacing them, all of them, with just me. Me. Me. When you think your own name, speak your own name, you think of the one who gave it to you. Your mind slowly changing until it's all just in the shape of Me. Isn't it such a wonderful gift I've given you? I love you. Stop crying, I love you. Look, I burned your new name onto your skin so you won't ever forget it, okay? Say thank you. Stop crying.