Ew.

now I'm thinking about being completely numbed up and relaxed while someone plows my guts with a big toy.... my asshole rubbed down with topical numbing gel so I can't really feel any of it, all I can feel is pressure and then the slow repetitive bulge of a massive dildo pumping into my guts while I'm strapped down to my chair, and maybe I've been drugged up a little, too, so I'm just sleepy n foggy n watching it distend my tummy over and over....my cunt leaking the whole time, untouched.

First question: What is your favorite color? That’s such a nice color!

Second question: What’s your favorite animal?  That one is such a cool animal!

Third question: What’s your favorite food?  Yummy! That’s such a good answer!

Fourth question: What’s your favorite drink? Sounds good, sounds good, I like that answer.

Fifth question: What’s your favorite number?  Oo, I like that number too! Though I like all the numbers so I can’t say much, haha.

Sixth question: What is your favorite hypnosis method?  I think they’re all pretty great.

Seventh question: Can you take a big deep breath in for me?  Yeah, just like that, great job!

Eighth question: Can you let it out now? Wonderful!

Ninth question: Can you keep doing that? Big breaths in and out, just like before. Such a good girl you are, thank you.

Tenth question: Why are you blinking so much? It’s almost like your eyes are growing heavier and heavier.

Eleventh question: Are you growing sleepy? You had such a big yawn I just had to ask.

Twelfth question: Can you focus on just these questions for me? Nothing but my questions please.

Thirteenth question: Are your limbs heavy? Yeah, looks like you’re having a hard time moving them.

Fourteenth question: Is your mind growing hazy? Like a thick fog settling over your brain. I can tell, you’re all spacey and stuff

Fifteenth question: Are you starting to feel yourself surrender to me? That’s okay, it feels good, so don’t worry if you can’t stop it. 

Sixteenth question: You don’t want to stop it, do you? Of course not, because you know my questions are helping you relax.

Seventeenth question: You love to relax, isn’t that right?  It feels so nice to let go of all that built up tension and just let it all go.

Eighteenth question: You love to let go, no?  Yeah, I know you do, sweetheart. What a good girl you are.

Nineteenth question: You really are such a good girl for me, aren’t you? Yes you are, such a good girl, following my words so well, answering my questions so wonderfully.

Twentieth question: Can you feel yourself sinking?  It feels so good to sink into that mind fog, no worries, no thoughts.

Twenty-First question: Do you like being in trance? Of course you do, you wouldn’t read this if you didn’t.

Twenty-Second question: Do you enjoy dropping into trance? Again, of course you do. You would have scrolled by now if that wasn’t the case?

Twenty-Third question: Can you feel your mind becoming mine? It feels nice to let someone else take control, so you should be thanking me

Twenty-Fourth question: Are you seriously drooling right now? Awe, don’t stop, it’s cute.

Twenty-Fifth question: Can you fall into trance for me?  You’re doing so well

Twenty-Sixth question: Can you sink into mindlessness for me?  You’re so obedient, I’m so proud of you.

Twenty-Seventh question: It feels good to obey me, doesn’t it? Such a good girl, you love when you get to obey me.

Twenty-Eighth question: Can you drop for me?  That’s it, just like that, sweetheart. 

Twenty-Nineth question: Can you tell me your favorite color? Oh you don’t remember. That’s okay, it’s better that you don’t think anyways

"Well, it sounds like the problem might be clitoral hypersensitivity," Doctor Beekman said, his suddenly brisk and businesslike tone snapping Ellie out of a reverie she didn't remember drifting into. "Symptoms can include confusion, disorientation, memory loss, nymphomania, difficulty comprehending complex topics and multisyllabic words, and sexual submission to authority. Have you been experiencing any of those symptoms, Miss Pollard?" Ellie stared at him vacantly, all too aware of a trickle of drool still dripping from her slack lips. She didn't want to admit that she only understood about a quarter of those words. She really didn't want to admit that she couldn't remember most of the talk that came before them. She just nodded, hoping he wouldn't call her bluff and ask any follow-up questions.

He didn't, but he stood up and said, "Excellent, then I think the next step is a physical examination." He waited a moment or two for Ellie to respond, before giving her a long weary sigh and adding, "I need to look at your naked body, Ellie. Could you please take your clothes off and bend over my desk?" Ellie's brow furrowed, and she gave him a long, slow, sleepy blink as she tried to figure out why they were having this talk in Doctor Beekman's office instead of an exam room and what she thought she'd come in here to say to him before he told her all that other stuff she couldn't quite fit into her head… but then her clitty gave another big hard throb at the idea of stripping down for a smart, handsome man and she forgot what she was thinking. She wanted to show off her body to her doctor. That sounded really fucking hot, to be honest.

He stopped her when she was down to just her stockings and garters, saying, "That'll do nicely, Ellie," and instead of telling her what to do next he just put one hand on her waist and the other hand on the back of her neck and bent her forward until her tits squashed against the top of his deck. "Now try to keep quiet, sweetie, because this part of the exam can get kind of messy," and that was all the warning Ellie got before he was pushing her down so she couldn't squirm and the hand at her waist moved to sink three fingers into her surprisingly wet pussy. Ellie let out a tiny mewl despite herself, her cunt clenching and grasping around the intruding digits with a hunger she'd never felt before. Ellie didn't even know she could get this horny, but the way Doctor Beekman touched her made it easy.

"Now let's try a few simple questions to establish my diagnosis," the doctor murmured calmly, as if he didn't know that Ellie couldn't make any sense out of the last half of his sentence. "An intelligent woman should be able to answer these even with her pussy getting stretched and her clit getting rubbed, so if you can't then you'll know that you're medically incapable of resisting your submissive tendencies and you should immediately surrender yourself to a competent and capable authority figure to make decisions on your behalf. What's three plus six, Ellie?"

She was so caught off guard by the question that she almost forgot she was supposed to answer it--she was still muddling her way through 'med-ick-ull-ee in-cay-puh-bull' and 'sub-miss-iv ten-den-sees' and the rest of his speech threatened to simply fall into a warm, slick void of pleasure. Ellie tried to answer, she really did, but just then her first climax hit… and when she lost herself in rutting, grunting bliss something deep inside her fell apart and she knew she just needed to be owned from now on.

"You believe me now, don't you?" Aaron asked, but of course by then it was too late and Clarissa could only answer him with a loud, desperate moan. "I told you that wasn't a sex toy anymore, babe. I told you it was a thoughtsucker, and if you put it to that needy clit of yours it would drain every last bit of your brain right out through your pussy. But someone decided to be a little brat and show me she was too strong-willed to fall for a suggestion like that, and what happened? It looks like you decided to start playing with your buzzy wand like a horny slut and now you can feel yourself getting dumber every second. And you can't even pull it away because it feels too good to stop."

If she was thinking straight… or really thinking at all, for that matter… Clarissa would have told him it wasn't like that. She would have said that she knew what a talented hypnotist her lover was, and she only challenged him because the same post-hyp that made her believe her favorite massaging vibrator was fully capable of pulling every last thought straight down her spine and into her leaky pussy also tricked her into convincing herself that a little bit of playtime wouldn't hurt and she could stop whenever she wanted. But Clarissa's mind was already too far gone for that, and all she could do by this point was uselessly struggle to keep her eyes from rolling back in her head while she made soft grunting noises and utterly failed to pull the massaging vibrator away from her throbbing clit.

And Aaron was showing her exactly no mercy. "Oh, there goes another thought," he chuckled, watching a little gush of musk trickling down her light brown labia onto the towel he'd put down. "You don't even know if you're going to get them back, do you, sweetie? For all my cute little dummy dum-dum knows, she's going to wind up so blank and empty that she'll need a big strong man to do the thinking for her from now on. And that makes you cum so, so hard, doesn't it, cutie pie?" Clarissa was actually a PhD astrophysicist when she wasn't playing bedroom games with her imaginative and inventive dominant, but she wasn't in that headspace right now. She was fully and totally convinced that she was going to buzz her brains away forever if she didn't stop masturbating right this second.

But she couldn't stop. Because Aaron was right, it felt fucking incredible to be this completely and totally helpless to stop herself from cumming. It was so hot to lose all her self-control, to fully and uncritically believe that she was literally masturbating herself stupid and to struggle with all her willpower to move that toy just a few fractions of an inch away from her sopping cunt, only to discover that the part of her that was already too dumb and horny to worry about consequences was stronger than every last bit of her waking intellect. It made her feel so deliciously weak and submissive, and that kept the toy in place even as the last of her fading wit warned her uselessly that she needed to stop or she'd be Aaron's slut forever. She let out another long, lowing moan, more like the moo of a cow than any human noise, and let herself sink into climax as her thoughts drained away.

Just a few. Not big ones, but you still have them. When you speak to try and say that it isn't working, he can still understand you, but the way he smiles gives you butterflies and you start to trip.

They're not big words, and they're still hard anyway.

Words are so hard.

He says you should keep going, says you should show how it isn't working, but it's getting so hard to even think with words now, let alone say them. Your mouth works a few times with nothing coming out before you manage something.

They're sounding less and less like words, the noises you're making. Here and there there's a bit that is almost a word, but not quite, and he's still smiling and you can't think and words are just so hard.

It isn't long before they're not words at all. Not even close.

Just noises now. Needy noises. Moans, whimpers, whines.

You don't even notice. Even with all the words melted in your head some tiny part of your silly, dummy brain still thinks you're speaking, still thinks he can understand.

Until he puts his thumb into your mouth.

You groan. You suck. You close your eyes.

He says you're a good girl for trying.

And even though the words are too hard to understand, you know the shape of them enough to feel yourself clench.

Good girl.

• Sleep can function as mental bondage. If you're asleep and can't be easily woken, you're completely helpless and vulnerable. If you're sufficiently drowsy and out of it, you're still basically helpless, but with the added bonus of potentially being somewhat aware of what's happening.

• The many ways to be forced to sleep -- surgical drugs, chloroform rags, hypnosis, sleeping spells and potions, tranquilizer darts, hidden sedatives in food or drink...

• The onset of sleep can be quick, barely giving you time to react before you're out, or so gradual you won't even realize what's happening until it's too late (and everything in-between).

• Uncertainty -- being put to sleep against your will, not knowing what will happen to you while you're defenseless. Being carried away as you fall asleep, not knowing where you'll be when you wake.

• The fight to stay awake, because it feels like something you should be able to fight, to overcome with enough willpower, but...

• The inevitability of being put to sleep. You might not feel the effects of the drugs or magic right now, you might feel wide awake, but sleep will be coming for you.

• Heavy eyelids fluttering and straining to stay open, drooping and closing all by themselves.

• Confusion and disorientation as the drowsiness sets in.

• Floating in and out of consciousness, perhaps just able to hear people discuss you or feel them handling you.

• Deep hypnotic sleep where your conscious mind is shut down and your subconscious is utterly vulnerable to suggestion.

• Glassy, dazed eyes with nothing behind them -- your eyes might still be open, but you're still fast asleep.

• Sleepwalking, wandering around in a trance, unaware of your surroundings -- or perhaps your sleeping mind is following someone else's commands...

make me so stupid i cant remember my name

make me so stupid im always drooling

make me so stupid my eyes always glaze over

The comment stirs you from your trance-induced stupor, but it's hard to focus so deep in the fog. "Hhm...?" You try to raise your head, to blink away the heaviness in your eyes.

"Shh, shh. Relax." A hand brushes through your hair. "It doesn't matter now, whether you know or not. I'm going to take care of you."

A dreamy smile flitters across your face, and you sink into the sensation. No worries. No cares. You're captivated and calmed by every stroke, but completely unaware of what's being said.

They chuckle, and the sound warms you. "Look at you. To think you were a person once." A pause. "I wonder. Why did you agree to this? Was it because you thought it wouldn't work...? Silly."

You smile wider and giggle, but aren't sure what for. It is silly, isn't it? It feels silly.

"Silly little head," they murmer, kissing between your brow. "Don't worry. You're all mine now. I'll make sure you never have to think for yourself again. You trust me with that silly head of yours, don't you?"

Everyone loves a dummy, and everyone's going to love you when you're too stupid to put a sentence together, or tie your shoes, or do anything but smile and giggle, or sink to your knees, or ask very, very nicely if someone you like would please play with you and your body and brain, because you're such a needy little toy.

You don’t want to look, it makes you all tingly down in your special place. It makes you rock your hips against that big hard thing in his pants. It’s not like you can go anywhere either, he’s holding your hips and guiding the movement in his lap, feeling you up like a toy. Bouncing you.

“I don’t want to—“

“Don’t lie to me baby, I can feel how much you want to. Keep your eyes on the screen.” His hands slide up your body to pinch at your nipples, before grabbing your throat— dragging you closer to the screen, caging in around you as he humps your ass. Forcing you to watch as some cute little thing gets plowed by a massive cock, while threatening to do the same to you.

“Look at that. See that?” By now, you’re pinned to the desk, neck arching painfully to see the screen. He rewinds the video to the moment the man breeches her hole. Leaning down, he breathes beside your ear, “that is what I’m going to do to you.”

“Please, no, stop—“

“It’s a little too late for that, look at what you’ve done to me. It’s only fair you take care of it.” It being the monster cock contained behind a zipper. “Wiggling in my lap, humping my cock like a bitch in heat….”