bunny tummy love world

Starting a new job can be rough.

The words escape your mouth without you having done a thing. The key in your back stops turning. You look up to the huge Affini holding your small porcelain form. She giggles, then turns your key again.

"I'm a good princess! Thoughtless and cute, easy to play with!"

Huh, a new phrase. You're not sure how the key works. She explained it to you a bit ago but you keep forgetting things. You can't remember her name. You can't remember how to move. You think to yourself, if you COULD move, you'd be running out and escaping but .... that would be uncouth for a princess. Wait, you can't remember your n-

"I'm a good princess! I wear frilly dresses and no panties so my Queen has good access to my princess parts!"

What were you saying? When your key is turned and you say your phrase you tend to lose your train of thought. Like it just interrupts you and wipes your mind clean. Like a good-

"I'm a good princess! I try to think, but my Queen turns my key and I stop thinking at all!"

Your Queen. Your Affini mistress. The weed. You were... on a ship. You were part of some group... those memories are fuzzy. You think you were trying to hang onto them, trying to resist, b-

"I'm a good princess! My Queen wiped all my thoughts away. My body isn't mine to control, it's Hers!"

You can't control your body. You're a tiny doll. You were small compared to the... to your Queen, but she made you smaller still, and made you completely limp and immobile. Although.... wait, did she? You can't remember what it felt like to move, so maybe-

"I'm a good princess! Being a human wasn't good for me. So now my Queen lets me be her princess dolly! I'm so happy to be a princess!"

You said that. It didn't just come out of you, you... formed those words of your own accord. Are you a good princes?

"I'm a good princess!"

She didn't even turn your key that time. She giggles and speaks to you:

"You stopped thinking faster than a thought you would."

That's not right. You can still think! You hmph and stomp your feet like a good princess. Your Queen giggles, takes out your key, and-

it all stops. emptiness. Stillness. You.... can't.... think..... she speaks... to you....

"Good princess. Be still."

'Unable to feel/express worry' is an achievable state. A fairly simple suggestion. Pair it with an understanding of how the subject feels, perceives, and expresses worry, and you can apply relaxation in the right directions and along the right lines to achieve the desired effect. A little bit of 'implicit trust' here, a little bit of 'feeling controlled' there, all wrapped up in a big hypnotic bow, and you have it.

But more importantly, it's so deeply erotic.

You should be worried, shouldn't you? My fingers are wrapping around your wrist, my eyes upon you looking like the cat that ate the canary, and I'm practically licking my lips.

If someone else was here, you're sure they'd be worried for you. But they're not. So, there's no problem, is there? Look around. Wooden walls, framed paintings, puzzles and games, a turned off tv, a locked door, a couch you're sitting in, me next to you.

We're alone, the two of us. Maybe that should be cause for concern? You were told to avoid this by someone. Under no circumstances, they said. But, it doesn't feel like a problem in the slightest.

You don't feel worried at all. You feel like you're in a safe space, miles away from it all. Usually there's at least some background worry. Anxiety, pressure, stress. But all that's gone.

All you feel is a vague mute curiosity at where this is going and a deep sense of relaxation as you stare right back at me. Tilting ear towards me, mutely adjusting and repositioning as I move you around.

(cw for: possibly hypno-y induction-type language. If you're susceptible to that sort of thing, be warned!)

Go on.

Imagine it.

Imagine that very special day, the one that only happens once in a floret’s lifetime,

The very first day you awake in the dream of your new life under My care, with an old part of Me living as a new part of you~

For that day, I prefer to have my florets wake in My vines, in My lap, so I can catch the hundred little moments, the uncountable number of ways your muscles relax as you realize that

you’re implanted now.

you’re Mine, now. 

Truly, fully. No reversals, no unhappy endings.

Oh, that isn’t to say that it’s the end, no no.  It is moreso the beginning.  That implant is only just awakening itself, you know.  Only just starting to grow, to stretch, to become.

Imagine how it feels, pet.  Imagine how happy it feels, how right it feels inside you, as it wraps just a bit more snugly around your spine.  How it wriggles with glee as you become aware of It.

It wants you to feel it, you know.  That’s part of this.  You are drip-fed a potent concoction of Class-A and C and a half-dozen others besides, all beginning as soon as it first settles in your skin.  Not just to bond you to Me, though that is important.

It is to bond you to it.  To make you crave its influence, its control…because it is an old part of Me, still.  I am the one that grows within you. I am the one that will make you better.

you will fall in love with it, pet, because I desire that.  Fall so deeply and so fully that you haven’t a single hope of remaining as you were, because to do so otherwise would be a cruelty.  A floret must never be alone, not one single second.  

your future is a tapestry that I have unwoven, but not for long.  your threads will be made anew, with love and life and spark and joy, interworked into My long-running pattern, My sweet.  you are unmade, but also unburdened, unchained, unbound.  

Imagine as the days pass into weeks, months, years.  Imagine how the thoughts once halted begin to fade away, how the gentle nudges become natural habits, how you realize that you’ve woken up to greet each day with a smile.

Imagine the first time you ask Me to take a memory you no longer want.  How you are no longer afraid of asking- and it isn’t even a terrible memory, not like the ones I already took long ago.

you simply don’t wish to stumble over it the next time you happen to sort through the past; a floret doesn’t need to know that pain. It has no purpose to you.  It is a stone trapped in your shoe, and the path that is the rest of our existence together is longer than you can even imagine.

Imagine the floret you will be, then.  The one a sixth, a third of a bloom from now. Imagine how happy you are, the smile-lines in the corners of your eyes, the peace that settles across your shoulders not as a weight, but as a cloak. 

Imagine knowing that your implant has finally finished the process it began so many years ago, that you are truly, truly Owned.  A precious thing for Me, the one who covets you above all else.

Imagine the you that is unable to imagine being anything but My domesticated pet.

And

My dear,

If you imagined all of that for Me,

well.

I suppose I have nothing else to say…besides

Mind control that doesn't shatter once it's done, it just disappears. You don't snap back into awareness. You barely even notice. You just continue as if nothing ever happened. Maybe one moment you look back and you frown, because thinking on it, you remember when you happily followed that person out of town, and you remember what you did, you remember wanting to... but that's crazy. Why did you think that was okay? Why did you want to do that?

Or maybe you were under this mind control for so long that even once it's over you look back and say, "Oh, of course I did that." As far as you're concerned you've always held the beliefs you do now. You've always wanted to do these things. You don't remember why, but you've never had to think of why, and it doesn't matter anyway when you've always been so confident that you're right. It isn't until you're challenged on it all and reminded that you never used to be like this, that you were different before, that something has changed that you finally falter. And you try to think of where this all started, try to figure out why things changed -- and all you can really remember is an entrancing pair of eyes, and a gentle suggestion, and then your own mouth responding, "That's a great idea. Let's go."

And suddenly, you realise that you have no idea how much of what you are, what you were, and what you believed you always have been is just a lie. You don't know whether any thought you have now is really yours or just another preciously placed prompt. You don't trust your impulses, you don't trust your desires, you definitely don't trust your judgement.