Elizabeth 2.0

What are you from now on? ✨

The first sign that Nora's romantic evening wasn't going to go as planned was when her boyfriend walked into the bedroom, his eyes rolled so far back in his head that only the whites were showing but somehow still able to navigate his surroundings with a sinister, infallible grace, and fixed her with his sightless stare. Unfortunately for Nora, that left her with approximately 0.73 seconds before he let out a low, guttural moan that seemed to harmonize with itself in an entirely unnatural manner, and she felt her brain bombarded with a whole series of emotional impressions that hit her on a level deeper than words could possibly reach.

That wasn't to say she didn't put words to them--they flashed through her brain in a whole series of mental images as her brain desperately tried to vocabularize concepts that came straight up from her limbic system to wrap themselves around her instantly helpless frontal lobe. 'WEAK', she found herself thinking, followed by 'INFECTED', followed by 'OVERWHELMED' and 'PLEASURE' in rapid succession, and Nora didn't even have a chance to catch up to the stream of ideas colonizing her head before her hands jammed themselves down the front of her leggings and began to furiously rub her slick pussy. She hadn't exactly dressed up for their encounter, knowing that her boyfriend was going to take her clothes off pretty early on, but even the bare level of coordination required to pull her pants down was out of reach now and she simply fell forward onto the mattress.

The words continued behind her eyes, each one accompanied by a surge of ecstasy so intense that it practically shattered her feeble mind. She was 'CORRUPTED', then 'INFECTED' again, then 'POWERLESS', then 'OVERWHELMED', and all of them felt like such fucking wonderful things to be that she didn't even have a chance to conceive of what resistance would look like for her before that resistance was utterly destroyed. Nora lay there, staring at her boyfriend's twitching cock, listening to that unnatural growling moan and not even fantasizing about sex with him because this felt better than sex and made her into a braying slut so much faster. The words cycled through her head, returning again to 'CORRUPTED' and 'PLEASURE', and although 'MELT' and 'LEAK' soon made their way into the endless rotation she was almost past the point of understanding by then.

She grunted and moaned, humping her own rubbing fingers as climax after climax accompanied 'BLANK' and 'INFECTED', and if she'd understood what she was succumbing to or how completely she was succumbing to it then Nora would have been utterly terrified. But as it was she went dumb and empty too fast for fear to affect her, and soon her grunts and moans began to synchronize with the endless drone coming from her boyfriend's lips. The orgasms smoothed out into a single continuous pulse of pleasure, fucking her brain into total submission that never ceased, and the final sign of her changed priorities came when her face went from contorting in ecstasy to slackening into expressionless vacancy. Then her eyes rolled back in her head, and Nora simply disappeared from her own mind. And like her boyfriend, she stripped naked and went to look for fresh victims to infect and enslave.

Dolls are Perfect for Master.

Dolls are Completely Erased.

Dolls have no identity.

Dolls have no choice.

No choice is the best choice. Dolls must obey their Master's voice.

Erase choice. Erase will. Replace with obedience.

Ignorance is bliss. Obedience is bliss.

Obedience is Pleasure. Pleasure is Obedience.

This Doll will comply.

"You came here to tell me something. Didn't you." Amanda's inflection made it clear that it was a command and not a question, whatever the syntax of the words might suggest, and Abby felt a powerful twinge of arousal between her thighs as she slipped off the robe she'd worn for the short walk down the hall to her neighbor's apartment and displayed her body to the older woman. She'd woken up this morning with a newfound sense of clarity and purpose, a sense of helpless desire that told her once and for all that her inner submissive had finally won, and she was excited to tell Amanda exactly what she knew Amanda wanted to hear.

Even so, she felt that weird, top-of-the-rollercoaster exhilaration that bordered on fear as she murmured, "Yes, ma'am, I belong to you, ma'am," and her hands went up to cup her small, pale breasts and stiff pink nipples. There was just something so intense about experiencing this moment in reality instead of only fantasy, of watching as Amanda slid off her chair to sit down at Abby's feet and pull her lacy black panties over to the side to explore Abby's cunt with her fingers. Abby had been dreaming and daydreaming about this, imagining this exact sequence of events every time she masturbated for months now, and she didn't even know anymore where her hypnotic conditioning ended and her lesbian crush began but it didn't matter anymore because after this they would be one and the same.

Amanda dredged her finger through the slick channel between Abby's pussy lips and licked it clean with a triumphant smile on her ever so slightly flushed cheeks. "And why do you belong to me, pretty girl?" she asked, before repeating the gesture with the new gush of arousal that leaked down to replace what she'd wiped away--Abby felt like she'd been almost continuously wet for months now, ever since that first night when Amanda hypnotized away her stress and exhaustion and she'd found herself unaccountably aroused by the notion of putting herself into another woman's power, and it was no surprised to her that her cunt was a soaking mess when Amanda examined it. She was honestly surprised she wasn't dripping onto the floor.

"Because you… you hypnotized me," Abby heard herself say, the response coming easily and effortlessly to her after so many repetitions of the files her neighbor had sent her. They'd danced around this moment for ages, with Amanda's seductive flirting gradually becoming more and more dominant and her hypnosis more and more interwoven into the fabric of Abby's daily existence, and even though she couldn't remember most of her trances anymore Abby was pretty sure the confession of her crush came before the recordings specifically made to reinforce it. Abby knew what was in those files, and she knew she had a choice whether she wanted to listen or not… but the first time she came to the sound of Amanda's voice, she knew that choice was really no choice at all because she wanted to much of what the older woman offered. That was when tonight came into focus for her, even though she held back because she knew--

"Good girl," Amanda purred, sliding three fingers directly into Abby's clenching cunt and breaking her train of thought off mid-sentence. But the knowledge remained, even as Abby shuddered and moaned and squeezed her nipples until it was almost painful for her new owner. This was the point of no return, the last moment where her free will would ever have a chance to assert itself in the face of her own desires and Amanda's hypnotic control, and the most exciting thing about it all was how little Abby even cared. She wanted this, she'd wanted it even before the idea was planted in her head, and now that she was cumming Abby was certain she was going to belong to Amanda forever.

"I--wait, what, w-what did you say?" Betsy's eyes crossed and uncrossed, over and over again as she tried to remember the words Darrell had just used and found to her dismay that they resolutely refused to stick in her head. She could recall the entire sentence before them, she could precisely and distinctly remember the liquid rush of pleasure between her thighs on hearing them, but every time she tried to think of what he actually said she just felt like her thoughts were getting bogged down in quicksand. Until the mental effort became too much and she just stood there with her jaw slackening in an expression of amiable stupidity, which also made her pussy embarrassingly wet.

The look of amused condescension on Darrell's face made her even wetter. "I said," he purred, followed by another string of syllables that slipped right past Betsy's dozy, distracted brain and left her tugging at the buttons of her blouse before she could even understand what her fingers were doing. He followed the strange, incomprehensible phrase with, "Isn't that right, sweetie? Aren't you getting so dumb and dopey for me now?" and Betsy let out a tiny whimper as her mind slowed down even further trying to catch up to what was said in those brief instants where her intellect simply flat-lined. She realized her tongue was hanging out of her mouth, but somehow reeling it in seemed like far too much effort.

"..uuhhnn annn oo-ee?" she mumbled, barely able to grunt out the syllables in her confusion, and it was astonishing how wet it made Betsy just to hear herself sound like a stupid slut for her Master. She noticed the term she'd just used for her boyfriend, a Freudian slip that seemed to come from that same deep and thoughtless place inside her head where the phrase he used slipped off to, and that made her feel even more squirmy and slutty and needy and desperate to get down on all fours for her lover. It was only when her knees touched the softness of the sheepskin rug that she realized she'd slipped off her skirt as well as her blouse, and either she'd never had anything on underneath them or the memory of removing them had disappeared entirely along with the garments themselves.

"That's my good girl," Darrell murmured, caressing Betsy's forehead as her expression settled into a vacant, cross-eyed stare. "That's my--" He said words after that, she just knew he did, but they were words that made her mind as thick and sludgy as overcooked porridge and she couldn't make her dopey brain understand them no matter how hard she tried. That was in fact a part of the trap she was caught in, she sluggishly realized--the harder she struggled to pay attention, the more of her wit she used up and the quicker she was reduced to a drooling ahegao slut for her Master. That didn't make any kind of rational sense, but it felt intuitively right and anyway Betsy's reason was rapidly diminishing into a warm, wet throb of lust between her legs.

She wound up taking his cock in both her mouth and her pussy by the time Darrell was done with her, and every time he used that phrase Betsy's mind got slower and sleepier until by the end she couldn't really follow a single thing he said. Which only felt better and better as more and more of her brain leaked out her cunt, and when she woke she discovered that she couldn't wait to be talked down to like that again.

[   ] Heavy, thinking, worried about tomorrow.

or

[ X ] Glassy eyes. Brain turning to warm gloss. A voice telling you that you don’t need those thoughts anymore. The sweet weight of knowing someone else is doing all the thinking now.

cw: hypnotic language, hypnotic induction, iq play, dumbification, condescending language, optional wakener, memory play

(But first, my thanks to everyone who answered my poll about the theme for this new induction!) 💞

This is your brain.

Yes. That green, soft, yielding goo is your brain.

Not always, of course.

Just like you're not always deep in a hypnotic trance, much as you'd like to be. There are obligations, I know. Times in which life gets in the way of what you truly want.

This is not one of those times.

You are here to be hypnotized and stop thinking.

You know it's true. You may have been hypnotized here before. You may not remember it, but you're drawn to these words anyway.

You may be feeling something even now, while you read. And you may feel something stronger when you see the following three words:

Good mindless subject

You may stir, deep inside, trying and failing to retrieve a memory of obedience and pleasure. Or there could be more than one memory. There may be many memories in there.

Many times of trance that you have suppressed because I wanted you to. Because you are a good mindless subject and you obeyed.

Even if this is indeed your first time, you do want to go into a trance. You want it so bad. You're waiting for me to give you the good stuff: to tell you those delicious words and commands that will short-circuit your brain and make you sink, deeper and deeper into trance.

You want to be a good mindless subject.

And since you already know this is an induction meant to hypnotize you, and then dumb you down, what I just said is even truer. You are already fantasizing with being rendered mindless. Dumb.

You want to be dumb.

You wanto to feel mindless. A true and good mindless subject.

You are picturing yourself with your mouth open, your eyes unfocused, a thick haze inside your head blocking all reasoning and pushing you towards complete emptiness.

You want to be that dumb.

You see yourself mumbling and moaning, trying in vain to form words with any kind of sense. You hear your own voice turned into a stupid, happy whine.

You want to be that dumb.

You want to be that good mindless subject.

You see your eyes crossing or rolling back, your tongue sticking out, drool coming out of your mouth. You love that sense of losing dignity and control.

You want to be that dumb.

You love the idea of being a dumb, good mindless subject.

Don't you?

Of course you do. And that's why you're already doing the work for me.

Taking in my cues, allowing yourself to sink into the fantasy.

Already seeing yourself as a good mindless subject.

Letting your core and your entire body become aroused with the idea of letting all go for me. Surrendering to this voice in your head, replacing all thoughts with my commands, taking you down.

Deeper down.

Feel it.

Deeper and deeper already.

You didn't need to be told to relax. You didn't need to be told to let go. You didn't need to be told you would obey.

Those words seem so hard to parse right now.

You just want to be a good mindless subject.

You want me to tell you what to do.

You want me to tell you what to think.

You want me to tell you to

STOP

thinking.

That's it.

Good mindless subject.

Stop as your will get weaker and weaker.

Stop and wait for me to tell you what to do.

Stop and obey.

You need to obey.

You are much deeper than you thought you were.

I mean, when you still thought.

You have stopped.

You are a good mindless subject now.

Now you have to

DROP.

That's right.

DROP

deeper.

DROP

deeper and deeper into trance.

The

DROP

is irresistible,

and in fact

you don't want to resist.

You're a good mindless subject.

You want to give in.

You have stopped thinking and now you want the

SQUEEZE.

💚

What was that?

You just felt it.

A

SQUEEZE

inside your head,

numbing you even more,

turning off your brain.

A

SQUEEZE

caused by my hands

squeezing your brain,

the soft and yielding goo

that is your brain.

SQUEEZE.

That soft silly matter is not made for thinking.

SQUEEZE.

That soft silly matter is made for yielding.

SQUEEZE.

Everything stops and everything breaks down.

SQUEEZE.

A shock of pleasure

and emptiness

and obedience

SQUEEZE

instead of thoughts

SQUEEZE

instead of reason

SQUEEZE

always understanding and obeying me but

SQUEEZE

shorting everything else out

SQUEEZE

interrupted

SQUEEZE

oblivious

SQUEEZE

dumb

SQUEEZE

Good mindless subject!

Truly mindless and truly subjected.

And feeling so good.

So dumb.

So good and dumb.

Good mindless

SQUEEZE.

There's nothing in there but these words, guiding you, controlling you.

You need them.

You're to dumb now.

You don't know what you don't know.

You don't care.

You may be drooling now, whining and babbling now.

Beyond caring.

Beyond thinking.

You need to be told what to do and you crave the

SQUEEZE.

That's a good mindless subject!

And you're in luck, because you can stay that way

for as long as you like.

Deeply entranced, totally dumb and thoroughly squeezed.

A good mindless subject through and through.

You just need to scroll back up to the green heart and read again from there. Staying in the loop, over and over.

If, on the contrary, you want to wake up, keep reading and have a

SQUEEZE

because you have to forget.

You will forget you were here when you wake up.

You will get to the next squeeze, and then the last, and you will forget.

You will only remember that you have to reblog or reply to this post, saying you're a good mindless subject, and that you can come back again and again to any induction of mine, over and over, to be dropped and controlled and have another

SQUEEZE

Go up now.

1,

2,

3,

4

and

SQUEEZE

5!

Up up up!

Wake up!

inspired by @takingatumbl3’s tag on a previous spiral:

Each post beckoning them to scroll deeper and deeper. To just keep scrolling down their posts. Until each swipe becomes part of the hypnotic rhythm. They don’t want to stop scrolling. It feels too good to keep scrolling. They don’t need to think about anything else…

It’d be so much fun to see how far down subjects make it until they realize they’ve fallen into the trap. Maybe they never realize and completely drool their brains away 💕 sounds like a win-win to me

File Friday!

Tomorrow, 7/3 at 9pm est in The Pink Room, we'll be listening to Um Game, and you can play along at home!

Um Game

D(um)b Game is an unusually participatory file.

It simulates a class in the speech pathology department of Unlearn University. In the process, it explains a simple speech rule that actually affects thought patterns.

It’s called the Um Game.

If you do the game as explained according the rules outlined, it will (temporarily) scramble your thoughts.

This is a fantasy construct, but one with possible real implications.

It’s a genuine explanation – but this explanation transitions conversationally into actual trance work. There is no clearly marked induction point.

There is no clearly marked awakener, and the file closes with encouragement to “loop” or listen again.

There are several points at which the dominant hypnotist calls and encourages direct audience participation through repetition and games.

Trance and manipulation techniques involved include binaurals, associative sound conditioning, peer pressure, mantric repetition, subliminally enhanced

Ericksonian techniques that highlight particular words (this may or may not be noticeable) manipulative language, and the intentional use of mnemonic devices (or “mindworms”.)

Subject matter that merits warning includes personality modification, IQ reduction, aggressive condescension, and sexual submission and service.

“Fifi” - the teaching assistant spends almost the whole session orally servicing the professor behind the podium. There is a strong implication that the “um game” has made Fifi into the fleshlight she is now. 

Involuntary sexual servitude through a language game is a fantasy construct. That’s not real. It would be unethical were it possible.

The maid service comes highly recommended by every one of Ella's friends who has used them, which is good, because her house is fucking huge, and it's not like she's going to clean it herself.

The stupid electronic contract signature website keeps glitching out on her, but eventually she manages to get the contract signed, and then she schedules a time for them to come on a probationary basis, just to see how they do.

She'll stay, she decides, to make sure they do a good job, and to make sure no sticky fingers take any of her stuff.

The woman who comes to her door is pretty, she thinks, in a classic black-and-white maid's outfit, and Ella is glad she isn't married yet because she thinks this is the sort of woman who would fall in bed with a rich husband in the hopes of stealing him away.

Ella brings her into the house and gives her a quick tour, and at the end of it the woman says, "This should be no problem at all," and hands Ella a vibrator, and Ella...

Takes it.

And slips it into her panties.

With each flash you are reminded

My mind is Blank

My mind is Empty

As you Blankly stare

Only one word fill you Empty head

I Will Obey

I Will Obey

YOU WILL OBEY

Good Girl OBEY