ever think to yourself "god this is a silly fetish to have"

titsay
will byers stan first human second
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
$LAYYYTER

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@b00t-loop
ever think to yourself "god this is a silly fetish to have"

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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please draw more adachi rei robotfucker content . Please . i'm begging you. on my knees begging Please Please Please Please
Like this?
An absolutely lovely anonymous witch made this one a wonderful piece of art showing its transformation into a doll!! It's so so delighted with all the details! The way the key flies in and winds, the way the hair colour changes, the eye changes, the joints and doll stand, the rose that became its name! awawawa
This one loves everything about this lovely sequence and is so very thankful to the artist!!!
she needed a little extra space for debugging
Getting involuntary hypnotized into a sexslave is very hot, but how about the alternative? Voluntarily getting hypnotized to become a slave? Willingly letting someone have their way with your mind? Can you imagine the rush of fear and excitement as you agree to be reduced to a toy for someone else? How it feels when you start dropping into trance, knowing that when you wake up, you will be a doll to be played with? And knowing that all of this was because of your own decisions?

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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service drone
sketch commission for @bocoec 🤍
So you strap a girl down into the brainwashing machine, right? But then of course you realize that you can hook all the restraints to a device which can measure the tension over time, roughly approximating the subject's degree of struggle.
Now, being creative, you of course figure that you can use the tension measurement instrument as input to a function which drives the brainwashing machine. Two possible functions immediately come to mind: activity fired vs stillness fired.
Activity fired is simple: if the mechanism detects sudden tension spikes above a particular threshold, then the machine activates. Since it takes some time to charge and run through the entire thing, you can configure each spike to only move along full activation a little at a time. You imagine the scenario of someone unwilling staying still as possible lest they lose who they are due to an errant sneeze. The willing, of course, can figure out creative and enjoyable ways to ensure constant tension spike frequency.
With stillness activation, the the machine is activated when no tension spikes have been registered for several seconds. Spikes will immediately postpone the activation timer. You could configure that timer to be around ten seconds. This would result in the unwilling subject requiring to struggle constantly to keep the machine from firing, which could possibly be futile once the muscles tire and they realize that they failed due to not being strong enough. For a willing subject, you probably don't need to really make any changes. After all, it'd be more surprising for her to be both willing and NOT into stillness.
Anyway, you ask the girl which of the two she prefers. She whispers the answer in your ear. For some reason, the hairs stand up on the back of your neck?
You start making the changes to the device, thinking about the process of empirically testing which of the two methods is best. You might think about the investors and stakeholders who provided funding for this project, and how they said they could provide more resources if you need. Like, morally and ethically questionable resources, though they would prefer to keep it low-profile.
So you switch on the machine. When the data comes back, you can probably call in the investors for a status report and resource requisition.
Anyway, you can start planning that situation once you've finished up here and gotten a chance to stock up on knockout gas. If you can rig the conference room to fill with gas during the investor report, you could probably get a pilot study going comparing the two methods. N=23, if everyone shows.
well now i am imagining putting my sister through the car wash and observing her face as many radial tools are inflicted upon her
I'll Go Put On My White Dress, Sis!
That Big Spinning Brush Looks Kind Of Scary...
[Blushing furiously as I realize that the car wash machine is in fact technically another maid who is aggressively washing my sister, and, caught between jealous rage and extreme homosexuality, I get so horny I pass out on the shop floor]
(I Attempt Mouth To Mouth But It's Clear I'm Not Accomplishing Anything Except Dripping Water On You)
The holy siskiss of life restores my absolutely chopped soul to my body but now we are both in the sensory hell of the car wash machine. In my shock and confusion my tongue enters her mouth and stays there. I moan a little sluttily to express my despair but the tricolor foam is an incredibly good sound insulator
(The Conveyor Unceremoniously Dumps Us Onto The Pavement. People Stare From Their Cars, But I Only Have Eyes For My Sister.)
I Lost My Glasses In The Machine, You'll Have To Hold My Hand All The Way Home...
We are clean, but somehow, I feel dirtier than when I walked in.
My hand slides gently into hers, absolutely drenched wet, but it's alright. My sister came for me in my time of need. The way her doll-like fingers lock with mine, trust self evident, knowing that no touch could be her equal to me or vice versa, the way she softly suggests the perilous burden of guiding her back to the manor without her glasses, all weave a rich cross stitch poem of the safety and comfort that awaits, embroidered upon our uniforms.
But we both know as I begin to walk and pull her forward beside me, that we are already home. We're just enjoying the lily garden.
UNAUTHORIZED PINK THING, FUCK IT NOW

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Getting theseus' ship uploaded would feel so good if you were awake for it. They shave your head and screw it into some metal crap then put your head inside a giant ass magneto tron and spin it around, and as your brain slowly leaks out through a hole they drill in the back your processing is overtaken by a simulated facsimile in a computer. they'd repeatedly test both the corporeal and virtual senses and switch between them like the eye doctors: "Which is better, one?" *puts a squishy ball in your hand* "or two?" *virtual squishy ball in your virtual other hand*.
and of COURSE they'd test the naughty bits you be sure of that. imagine macerating surrounded by strangers in two separate rooms at once while a machine is actively dissolving your gray matter and rebuilding it on the other side
it’s so hard to see other people living your dreams
Hypnovember Day 2: Puppet
Blank and empty. Heavy and limp. Gently, obliviously, poseable. What more can you ask from your puppet girl?
I will always reblog this for a few reasons:
It is painfully pretty, and captures that feeling of being a toy so well.
It will make darlings of mine very suddenly flushed and also like their body is a little clumsy as they move~
this keeps playing out in my headdd
goddd the temptation to take time off work and just be played with be ccute subby and mindless 😇😇😇
My sworn shield wishes to be a puppet?
Pretty and poseable?
good little doll
commission 💖
You wake up, for what is maybe the dozenth time, in the belly of your mech and the fried and raspy voice of your sole companion slides through the static like a serrated blade.
"Good morning, my darling instrument."
She pauses to pull from a cigarette, you know this from the lazy exhale that follows. It's easy to focus on little things like that when these moments are all you have. You wake up in the cockpit, bound to the pilot's chair, your hands shackled to the controls. You leave on sortie, carried to your destination by a pair of tooth-rattling, bone-shaking jet engines that roar with the fury of a storm, and crack like peals of thunder when you take off, and punch the accelleration. Those bursts of freedom are all you know, and in the quiet moments leading up, it's easy to think up questions.
Why am I here? Easy. To maim and kill and destroy. To fly circles around your quarry, playing with them until your jaws close around their vulnerable throats.
Where am I? Simple. The boot screen of your control terminal says Stearns Laboratories. That's not really a place, you think, but you aren't sure why you know that. You can't really think of a place outside this one, so you try not to think about it too much.
Who am I? You are the pilot. You exist at the beck and call of the voice on the radio. A chained beast to be unleashed on an unsuspecting foe.
Who does the voice belong to? Who is Mother. You've wondered it many times, as you taxi back to the hangar, adrenaline slipping from your grasp as though it were a fistful of sand. You think, for perhaps the dozenth time:
Do I know her from the world above?
... but you learned a long time ago not to ask that question aloud.
"Prepare for deployment, 0024-30431. I've lifted the mag-locks binding your joints and weapons, and you now have full authorization to kill with impunity for the duration of this mission."
"Be advised that you will be be disavowed if shot down on this sortie, but I have the utmost faith in your abilities. After all, I trained you. I created you, I made you the woman that you are, and Mother did not raise a failure."
This is, of course, all a part of the ritual. A script to be delivered at the beginning of each mission, and this time, like every time before, you feel the stir of something virile and primal rattling the cage of your ribs. Yearning to be free. Desperate to be unleashed.
"Prepare for launch in five..."
You brace your heel against the catapult, and feel a kindred spirit with the desperate, straining, pathetic thing.
"Four..."
Blood pounds in your ears like the crashing bootfalls of ten thousand soldiers marching in lock step, and you know that, soon, even this will be drowned out by the exhilarating rush of wind.
"Three..."
Your tongue feels fat and heavy, and you begin to salivate like a pet at mealtime. You open your mouth to breathe, and you can practically see your breath fog up in the musky cockpit as ropes of spit drip from your lips in thick, honeyed dollops.
"Two..."
You can't take it anymore, snarls claw free of your throat, and a howl splits your jaws wide. You thrash against the bindings, gnashing your teeth as you pull on the choke collar that leashes you to the seat, but Mother doesn't count any faster.
"One..."
Warmth bubbles up from your core, threatening to spill over, and you rub your thighs together in anticipation of the plunge. You strain against the leather, chest heaving, and dripping with need. Just the command is left...
"Go."

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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repeat after me
sketch commission
Magical girl who gets captured by an evil villainess only to be put in a magical hypno visor that flashes spirals and subliminals into the magical girls eyes until she is just an empty, drooly, leaking doll, helpless to obey and please the villainess 💕