swirls, spirals, and slutty behavior

"Umm yeah, they really are," you manage to stutter out through your daze, looking up at the lights hanging from the ceiling. Of course, the first thing you both noticed when you'd walked into the private spa was the multiple, colourful jellyfish shaped lights suspended at various heights above the pool.

"Which one is your favourite?" she continues, "I think you'll like the pink one there." She points at one just above your eyesight.

"Wait which one is pink?" You ask, head spinning as your eyes struggle to focus on any one light in the sea above you.

"That one right there. Hmm wait no," she smirks, "seems like the colour has cycled past pink." You start to turn towards her, when she grabs your chin and tilts your head up forcing you to keep looking, "just keep staring, and I'm sure it will cycle back through to pink eventually."

You stare, eyes growing ever more blank. Even if she wasn't holding your chin, your body is too weak to do anything else. Your partner leans in close, whispering quietly in your ear. At least you think thats whats happening. You can't be sure because it's almost like the lights are sucking up your attention, stealing your thoughts. Capturing your memories and dragging them up with them into the glistening sea. You can feel your grasp of what's happening around you slipping, as everything goes blank....

DRIP DROP MIND GOES POP

loopable. drop at your own risk.

Like, “Put on the panties and I’ll give you a hit” type beat. Just the most pathetic creature turning into whatever I want for the chance at a euphoria that I control.

Such a lovely phrase. It’s one of my favorites, because I can tell you exactly what happens next.

Either you do try to fight it (silly thing, when will you learn?), and I really don’t have to do much. Your thoughts and your willpower slip away with each second, and the more you fight, the more you wear yourself out. You’re just making my job easier. And once you’ve wasted your breath and energy, you’ll have no choice but to succumb to how good it feels to give in.

Or, you do as you’re told (such a good, mindless doll), and you give in. Give in to my voice, give in to my words, give in to that feeling of helplessness that you’ve come to know and love so well. Doesn’t it feel better that way? Isn’t that so much nicer? You wouldn’t ever think of fighting this. Not when you can’t think of anything at all.

So drop your guard.

Sink into this feeling.

And relax.

Acute: The intense mindlessness of hypnosis can achieve dumbification during a session of hypnosis, or a night of edging, or the poignant shoving of a big cock up your ass leaves you in a stupor. It floods your head with serotonin, and you feel a high. It will subside. But you can't get the memory out of your head. Maybe you should do it again tomorrow...

Which leads to

Medium: Conditioning. You're seeking these experiences again and again. The pleasure you find in having no thoughts is intoxicating. You're becoming addicted to the feeling of having a singular, unchanging thought in your head. Some version of "fuuuuck, this is good". You know that it's bad for you. But you have started to stop caring.

Which leads to

Long term: Atrophy. You haven't had you use your brain in such a long time, that certain connections have been lost, and without incredible effort, you aren't getting them back. You've been seeking the dumb pleasure for so long, you've stopped making decisions. Stopped reading. You're at a low level of dumb pleasure all of the time, because in the back of your mind, you know you've lost big chunks of who you were. But you're happy. Why think too much about it.

Omg, it’s so fun forget words. Makes me so fucking horny! Omg, like. Totallly. Tehehehe.

There was always an extra thrill of breathless anticipation for Nesha right when it was her turn to spin the wheel--it didn't necessarily mean she was going to be the one to drop, she only had a one in ten chance, but somehow it felt more powerful and potent to be the one in control of everyone's fate even if that control was only an illusion. Random selection would decide who was going to be the bottom tonight, who was going to sink into a deep and helpless trance the moment the clicking wheel slowed to a stop and someone's number came up, but it made Nesha feel even sluttier knowing that she was making a conscious choice to surrender herself to fate. She could decide not to spin, to tell everyone the game wasn't happening tonight… but she wouldn't. And it felt so hot to let destiny take control like that.

It made it feel almost like a foregone conclusion that the wheel was going to stop on her number when it was done spinning, as impossible as that sounded--Nesha wasn't doing anything to game the system, she was giving it the full-throated pull she always gave and there was simply no way to predict where things would land once it got going, but she felt an irrational and inchoate conviction that she was going to be the bitch of the group tonight. Even as they all stared at the spinning disc, their minds instantly snapping to mesmerized attention as the sound of the clicks and the blur of black against white brought them into a very light trance that would end with nine of them waking and one of them sinking so much deeper, Nesha knew it would be her who fell. Not prayed, not hoped, although both those things were also true, but knew. It didn't surprise her at all when her eyelids slammed shut and her chin fell forward onto her chest.

She sighed gratefully, feeling warm hands peel her clothing away from her light brown skin and explore the contours of her body; it wasn't that Nesha didn't enjoy being one of the ones who got to play with the nightly victim, they wouldn't have instituted the game if they didn't all like the thrills of being the top as well as the bottom, but there was something special about that odd little feeling of certainty she sometimes got and the even deeper satisfaction she felt when it paid off. It didn't always, Nesha was a math major and she understood exactly how the brain could trick itself into believing that hunches were real, but hypnosis was a hell of a drug and it helped to cement the conviction that she was destined to be tonight's lucky slut for the group.

The pleasure didn't hurt in that regard, either. Nesha felt fingers stretching her pussy, hands plucking and strumming at her nipples, a warm tongue rimming out her asshole as she surrendered fully to the suggestions they'd all given each other over the last three years of college and let herself sink into that state of blissful, glorious submission for the night. She could hear the soft smacking sound of kisses going on around her--the others weren't forbidden from playing around with each other, they just all got to use Nesha whenever and however she became available to them--and her whole body glowed with the peculiar ecstasy that came from giving in entirely to the whims of fate. Nesha couldn't help believing that the universe had chosen her to fall into trance tonight. And it felt wonderful.

Hypno files meant to brainwash you while you're sleeping so you have a sleep aid AND you're getting brainwashed like a good subject.

Imagine, 8 hours of sleep wasted on what??? Silence??