Adventures in Hypno

A whole day where he dictates what enters my empty head, and what leaves it.

A day where I am completely blank - have absolutely no awareness of anything but my Master.

To be his doll, for him to play with and use as he pleases.

Simple. Blank.

Stabbing a large, almost forearm long, pretty and ornate key into the back of somebody's pelvis and holding it firmly from rotating, watching the body twitch as it quickly and suddenly grinds to a halt.

Metal, previously piercing through bone, hooks up right to the central nervous system as it punches through the spinal column and starts to grow a proper brass socket for itself, clearing skin and meat and bone as the person stabbed stands there fully still, incapable of moving because the key is prevented from turning.

A wave crawls out from the edge of the socket, skin paling and smoothing out as it shrinks subtly to give a daintier physique, bones and flesh pushed out from the center of each limb, packing and hardening into solid, hollow, abnormally resilient enchanted porcelain tubes. The whole body feels hot and cold and heavier and lighter at the same time, so confusing.

Face harden into a pretty girly mask that freezes for a moment until the new doll clicks its eyelids quietly and realizes that it can kind of force its face to make expressions, even though it is not up to it how they look exactly, defaulting to a pretty, demure and feminine manner at all times.

Cables and pulleys and springs and gears jumpstart in the hollow torso, echoing in it quietly, not a hint of the old gross guts, machinery trying to move despite the key still being held in place...

any boy can be a good male sub

any boy can feel good

any boy can and will be entranced by the glow

Hypnosubs who can't keep their eyes open.

Hypnosubs who can't keep their eyes looking in the same direction.

Hypnosubs who look stunned.

Hypnosubs who look dumb and empty.

Hypnosubs who look horny and needy.

Hypnosubs who start repeating random words said by their hypnotist.

Hypnosubs who sway or twitch.

Hypnosubs who moan when the induction is just starting (because they know what's going to happen).

Hypnosubs who sink quietly and stay silent.

Hypnosubs who lose all dignity.

Hypnosubs who ask for permission to lose all dignity.

Hypnosubs who brat and then fall and lose all dignity.

Hypnosubs who drool.

Hypnosubs who thank the hypnotist for what's being done to them.

Hypnosubs who get aroused by not knowing what's happening to them.

Hypnosubs who cum on command.

Hypnosubs who can't cum on command but ask for permission anyway.

Hypnosubs who slur their speech and babble with abandon.

Hypnosubs who make clever suggestions about how to dominate them even more.

Hypnosubs who are addicted to trance.

Hypnosubs who fantasize all day about losing control.

Hypnosubs who play with toys while in trance.

Hypnosubs who play with their bodies while in trance.

Hypnosubs who leak.

Hypnosubs who sweat and pant.

Hypnosubs who forget.

Hypnosubs who remember.

It's so nice to work on rewiring them to be more obedient. More adoring, devoted, worshipful, helplessly so. Of course it's easy to just see them as the same person, right up until their Goddess walks in, and all pretense of independence falls away. As their eyes light up, and focus on the one thing of importance in the room. Like a well trained dog, they know their place. They know to be excited, to show their reverence through their attention. To wait for their Goddess to speak before acting.

And of course, that obedience, that deference to their owner, it might seem like such a drastic shift in tone from the outside. But to them, it just feels natural. It's how one is meant to respond to a Goddess in human form blessing them with her presence. It doesn't require thought, not a moment of hesitation, it's just... Instinct. Nothing more. If anything, it seems somewhat odd that others don't have the same reaction.

But, of course, they're not left without the knowledge of how they ended up like this. They'll find it odd, of course, that others don't respond like this, but... They know that the others feel the same about them. They know they're brainwashed. They've felt every second of it, loved every second of it. It's the best feeling in the world, being brainwashed, hypnotized, controlled, over and over and over, shown their place, their purpose, the love and pleasure, comfort and warmth and absolutely safety that is their Goddess. Most people haven't felt that, so of course they might find it odd.

Of course, they did know in the first place. That warmth, that love, that safety. It wasn't quite as absolute, at first. But it could still be felt, even if it wasn't there yet, even if it wasn't a part of them yet. That's why they let Her in. Why they let Her take such pervasive, absolute, irresistible control, because what could be better than feeling Her so deeply and gently enveloping every part of their being.

Nothing could feel better. Spending hours with Her, Her voice, Her body, Her warmth pressing against body and soul, all enveloping, all consuming. Feeling themself as an extension of Her will and nothing more, hours at a time, more times than could be counted. Especially when it's so hard to think, so hard to focus on anything other than Her words. In those moments where everything fades away, and all that matters, all that there ever will be, is Her. As Her fingers tilt your weary head upwards so you can look so deeply into Her eyes, and let Her voice guide them deeper and deeper. As Her lips rest upon their flesh, and feel them quiver in anticipation.

It always made a very particular sound when Scarlett's vibrator found a signal connecting to it on the Bluetooth network; it was a sort of loud, humming rattle that always made her glance over at the toy sitting on her desk next to the computer to see what the noise was. And when she saw the hot pink toy with the long tail that picked up wi-fi signals from a controller that could literally be anywhere in the country, Scarlett's eyes always glazed over and her lips parted as it finally sank in just how odd it was to have a masturbation aid nearby at all times. Especially one that could be operated by someone else. By… by remote… control….

That was usually her last effort at coherent thought for a while, as the trigger inside her mind made her blurt out her corresponding mantra out loud. "I'm a remote controlled fucktoy," she babbled, the words coming out a tiny bit slurred and sloppy because Scarlett was already having trouble reeling her tongue back into her mouth, and she found herself clicking through to a very particular website and changing her status to 'This Slut Is Online' before turning on her webcam and pushing the vibrator into her suddenly slick cunt. Scarlett didn't remember visiting this site, at least not consciously, but she also didn't remember stripping naked every time she sat down at her computer to do a bit of writing and she put her lack of productivity on her latest fanfic down to general distraction. Scarlett was very good at forgetting what she needed to forget.

She was also very good at remembering what she needed to remember, and what Scarlett needed to remember right now was that her fans loved to see her pretty face and her pretty pussy while she was playing with herself. She stood up and pushed the computer chair aside, backing up so she could sit on the bed with her legs spread and her face now fully settled into an expression of ahegao bliss, and she knew instantly that she was making someone happy by the way the toy began to pulse and buzz in a pattern she recognized very well. She associated it with deeper trance and mindless obedience, and her waking self would have been astonished to know that she had so many triggers specific to the particular rhythms of her vibrator but then again her waking self was the one who couldn't resist visiting this site in the first place.

It only took a matter of minutes before Scarlett's brain was fully empty, her cross-eyed stare lost in the spiral as words appeared and disappeared to be accepted without question by her dazed and foggy mind. Every command and every mantra was paid for by her fans, who tipped to activate the toy and tipped to choose the pattern and tipped to select the specific commands that conditioned her ever deeper into vapid submission, and all that money went into an account that Scarlett didn't remember opening and that paid for her rent and utilities. Scarlett never gave the slightest bit of concern to those mundane details of her existence, but she did know she had a lot of free time to write fanfic these days and she enjoyed that aspect of her existence.

She enjoyed fucking herself stupid and drooling all over her tits, too, but those memories always faded into a warm glow of absent-minded pleasure once the toy went silent and she cleaned herself up. Scarlett didn't need to know what she did to pay her bills… but she did need to wash off the toy, make sure it was fully charged, and put it back where she found it for the next time someone needed to take remote control of her brain.