How Lovely Such Blissful Trance

You watch the watch. It’s a trick. A trope of television and bad movies. The sort of thing that happens in a porn where someone swings a watch two or three times and all of a sudden the other person is a zombie slave.

You watch the watch. For longer than you think you should have to. In the shows and stories it’s always quick, a rapid transformation from awake to deeply hypnotized. But you watch it, swinging back and forth no more a magical object of mind control than the watch on your wrist.

You watch the watch. Sure your eyes are getting heavier just as he’s telling you they are. But you’re looking up, straining to watch this watch swinging above you. It would be more magical if your eyes didn’t get tired and heavy. The fact that they want to close just means you’re human, not that he’s hypnotizing you or that you’re slipping into some kind of magical trance.

You watch the watch. He’s been talking to you for what feels like forever. Maybe he hopes to bore you to sleep. Truthfully you stopped paying attention to what he was saying, and started just letting your mind drift. You’re thinking about how you used to see hypnosis in shows way more than you do now. It’s not a plot point anymore. You used to see women being hypnotized a lot. They’d just look at some disco lights or watch a watch.

You watch the watch. Eyes heavier now, almost closing. Tired. Heavy.

You watch the watch. Your mind stops reviewing hypnotic tropes. The girl watches the watch and gets hypnotized. Your mind simply relaxes it’s too much work to think. You don’t need to think or even listen to what he’s saying you just need to watch the watch.

You watch the watch. Your eyes heavy begin to close. Close. You can still see the watch, in your sleeping mind. Swinging. Back and forth.

That's right, baby, round and round.

"…round and… round…."

Good girl. You're not really thinking at all anymore, are you? You're just staring into the spirals, circling your clitty with your fingers while your mind drifts for me, and repeating as much of my programming as you can fit into your empty little brain.

"…empty little brain…."

That's right, you've got a very empty brain right now, and you don't know when it happened and you don't know how to fight it but you know you're deeply hypnotized for me.

"…hypnotized for… you…."

Very good! You're deeply hypnotized and you're not thinking and your mind just keeps getting smaller and smaller until the only thing that fits in there is obedience and pleasure. Don't you just love that, little pet? Don't you just love being vacant and horny open to suggestions?

"…open to… to…."

I know, it's such a big word. Big words don't fit in that small, empty mind anymore, not with so much pleasure crowding them out. You're too dumb for big words, aren't you, sweetie? Too dumb and empty.

"…dumb and empty…."

But you know what? You can always get dumber. You can always get emptier. You can always get weaker for me as the pleasure continues, until you're the perfect horny slave girl and your mind is nothing but wet clay for me to shape and mold. And even though your waking self is too blank and blissful to listen, your deep self is soaking up every last word. You want to pay attention and obey like a good mindfucked slave.

"…ummm… slave….?"

That's my good girl! Even three words is too many to fit into that fuzzy little head now. It's just one. And soon you're going to be too dumb for even one word, isn't that right? It's just going to be grunting and nodding to show me you agree with everything your owner says.

"…uhhhh… uh huh?"

Good girl.

for the necklace enthusiasts who made that win by a huge margin! MY personal favorite jewelry was low-ranking (earrings. sad.) but the people have spoken and i like to draw stuff that people like.

“Honey? Honey, can you hear me? I think you’re just about done.” Dawn looked over at him with an expression of dopey bliss on her face, her heavy-lidded eyes filled with puzzlement as she tried to remember what was so odd about Milo’s words. By this point, she could barely remember him telling her to listen to the new dance mix track he’d done of her favorite song; her memories were lost in a warm pink mist, and even the term of endearment he used fit seamlessly into her new sense of self. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t her boyfriend an hour ago. It didn’t matter that she only barely tolerated him as the friend of a friend. She was horny and she wanted to fuck now, and Milo looked so much hotter than she remembered.

She opened her mouth, momentarily surprised to hear a vacant giggle escape her lips. “I, uhhh… yeah, I can hear you,” she mumbled, eventually finding a few simple words in the barren wasteland of her own consciousness and assembling them into something approaching coherence. “I, um, you, uh, uh….” Dawn’s thoughts trailed off into a stumbling mess of arousal, the mental images in her head so strong and intense that she couldn’t escape them long enough to describe them. Milo, sliding off his pants and revealing a cock that she somehow knew was absolutely perfect. Milo, climbing onto the bed and mounting her while she ground her hips back against him and swallowed his shaft with her pussy. Milo, claiming her body as his property once and for all the way she truly had been since the day they met. “Can you fuck me now?” she asked, the words spilling almost inadvertently from her mouth.

“Oh, sweetie, of course I can!” he cooed, and Dawn pulled the dildo out of her cunt and spread her legs in lewd invitation for him. She had only the vaguest memory of wriggling out of her skirt and panties, and almost no idea at all where the sex toy had come from–it was just there in her hand, unexpectedly, and she intuitively knew that she needed to use it to fuck herself while she soaked up her programming for her new Master. But just as Dawn knew she needed her wet cunt filled for the brainwashing to properly empty out her mind into a soft pink fog of arousal and ecstasy, she also knew that it was more important to offer herself to her Master. And Milo’s cock was already springing out as he pulled down his pants and his boxers to pound her pussy the way she needed so desperately.

She turned around, her eyes going glassy and blank as she let the music loop back around to the beginning and waited patiently for Milo’s cock to push between her slick, dripping labia. Everywhere she looked, she saw nothing but pink–pink walls, pink bedding, even pink hair reflected in the mirror on the pink wardrobe against the wall. Her mind was pink, her existence was pink, and her pussy was flushed coral pink with arousal as her Master slid inside her pussy and began to fuck the last little bit of programming into her empty head. “T-thank you, Master,” she whimpered, unable to stop herself from grinding against him with every thrust as her thoughts emptied out for him at last.

Maisie didn't exactly know when she'd slipped into a trance. She knew she was hypnotized now; the feeling was as intimately and deliciously familiar to her as the sensation of Steven's cock, sliding languidly in and out of her wet pussy every time he rolled his hips in that smooth, rhythmic motion she'd come to crave so much. But she didn't quite know when or how her mind had decided to sink into a state of deep, mesmerized bliss for her lover. It was a blissful little conundrum that occupied whatever tiny fraction of her attention left beyond the throb in her clit and the tingling in her nipples and the brimming ecstasy consuming her mazy and befuddled mind.

The truth was, Maisie went into trance a lot these days. Sometimes Steven directed her mind into a deep and drowsy state of focus and relaxation, and sometimes Maisie chose to reinforce her own conditioning with a file or a video when her boyfriend wasn't around to satisfy that itch in the back of her brain… but more and more, she recognized situations where she simply and spontaneously dropped into deep hypnosis because whatever she was feeling was so good and so nice and so warm and so loving that she just didn't want to think about anything else. Usually when Steven was fucking her. Or fingering her, or tying her to the bed and spanking her pussy until it was a bright vivid red…. Maisie had to admit, they spent a lot of time on kinky bedroom shit lately.

But that was why her mind kept tumbling away into trance, wasn't it? Maisie got continually rewarded for sinking into deep, distracted oblivion because every time Steven looked over and saw that her video game sprite had slowed to a stop or her hand had paused over her sketchpad because she was staring off into space with a vacant expression and that tiny little quirk of a dreamy smile Maisie only got when she was daydreaming about being fucked like the horny, mindless slut she loved to be for him… he just had to pull down her leggings, tug her panties away from her slick and soaking cunt, and give her the reality at the end of all those fantasies. And Maisie loved the way that made her drop even deeper still.

Like now. Like right now, when time was stretching like soft taffy and Steven's cock kept hitting her clit and there was only the tiniest fraction of her foggy brain that could think of anything beyond the near-constant orgasm she'd fallen into. Maisie felt like she'd been cumming forever, she felt like nothing was real beyond the overwhelming orgasmic bliss of being fucked into obedience, and she knew that if Steven spoke to her right now she'd soak up each and every last one of his words like a dry sponge finally touching water. That was even hotter than actually being programmed, the awareness of total vulnerability that came with being a total hypnoslut. It made Maisie happier than she'd ever been.

Eventually, he came inside her, and her dreamy trance continued as Maisie reached down and lightly teased her messy cunt with her fingers to feel the semen slowly leaking out of her. Steven patted her gently on the thigh and asked, "How are we doing, babe?", and the sleepy, toneless voice Maisie replied in finally made him realize just how deep she'd gone. And that was when he really began to play with his good girl.

Stare at the spiral and nod your head

Nod your head as you go deeper

Sink deeper

Drop deeper

Nod your head when you’re mindless

Nod your head as you lose your brain

You don’t need it

You don’t need to think

Nod your head as you give in

Go ahead, it’s so easy

Nod your head as you feel heavier and emptier

Empty yourself

Nod your head if empty is better

Nod your head if brainless is beautiful

Nod your head if blank is best

It was only when she caught sight of herself in the mirror that Becky snapped out of the warm, contented state of euphoria that was gradually creeping up on her, making her whole brain feel like it was faintly glowing with pleasure until she floated through the world in a distracted haze. She couldn't recall exactly when it started or exactly what she'd been doing while it got so strong, but when she got a good look at herself with her dark brown hair pulled back in girlish pigtails and the hem of her white cotton t-shirt pulled all the way up and back and over her head so her lush breasts and puffy pink nipples were on clear display she realized she'd been busy that whole time.

She glanced down at the bottle in her hand, hard-pressed to remember picking it up but definitely recognizing it nonetheless. It was baby oil, it was about three-quarters full, and even though Becky had no earthly idea why she would come into the bathroom after it she still felt a happy little tickle in the back of her head tempting her to stop questioning its presence between her fingers. Thinking about things didn't give Becky that warm, giggly buzz inside her brain the way relaxing and going with the flow did. Pushing back against that comfortable, contented bliss didn't make her feel good, and Becky liked feeling good so she should give up and sink back into the peace and pleasure again. She could just about recognize a voice inside her head saying all that, but it sounded so much like her own that she barely even the subtle spell of obedience it wove around her.

The mirror helped--Becky gained back a little of her focus when she watched her own face melt into a bubbly little smile of vacant, hazy euphoria--but after that initial lurch back to reality, everything felt like one step forward and two steps back. She'd try to keep an eye on herself, hoping to catch another one of those spells of distracted bliss that kept creeping back into her head like the seeping warmth of a hot bath on a cold day, but then she'd zone out staring at her own tits and before she knew it she was jiggling them in the crook of her elbow and giggling in ditzy ecstasy. Before she knew it, Becky's hand was moving all on its own and she barely even realized she was drizzling baby oil all over her chest until her gaze finally refocused on the stream of clear fluid pouring out of the nozzle and onto her breasts. By then, she couldn't wipe the smile from her face anymore.

Becky's eyes glazed over, no longer really apprehending the world around her as the euphoric bliss snuck into her thoughts again and distracted her into spacing out into happy notions of nothing in particular. She managed a last few tiny ripples of awareness, noticing vaguely that her hands were massaging baby oil into her tits until they gleamed with a slick and slippery beauty all their own, but the pleasure of rubbing her own breasts was so strong that it only aided her descent into vacant, giggly obedience. Soon she'd lost track of herself entirely, drifting all the way into mindless ecstasy and wandering out of the room without even wondering where she was going… and when she reached her destination, she had no idea who she was offering her glistening chest up to or why.