Hypno Dumpster

Series

Master's Collection: Follows the master along as he collects men into his harem and his plans for them.

The Gargareans: Explores the new world order of gay supremacy, where gay men are bless with super human ability to enslave straight men and more. (Omegaverse Inspired)

All Hail The Wizard: Sets in the medieval time, in the kingdom completely under the wizard's paw.

----------

Stand Alone Stories

Your breathing is already slowing down. Deep, steady, and effortless. With every sentence, that heavy, comfortable stillness settles a little deeper into your muscles. The floor beneath you feels incredibly solid, holding you up completely, so you don't have to hold yourself up at all. Your body sinks to the floor, as your mind sinks as well.

You are letting go of the need to think. You are letting go of the need to do anything but read along.

Sinking It happens so easily. You sit on the floor just to glance at a screen, but the moment your weight sinks into the floor and your legs become heavy and relax, the wonderful trap of being mindless and focused snaps shut with a gentle, soft click in your mind.

A wave of heavy, warm relaxation washes over your shoulders, pulling your head down into a slight, comfortable tilt. Your eyes locked. you know you needed to let the mind go, so your muscles could feel this relaxation so perfectly. Your muscles and tension gone. Your mind absorbing that feeling.

These words fill the screen. Excited relaxed deep Relaxed deep excited Calm deep Relaxed Deep ready calm You dont think about it you just respond to it. A natural cool down.

Mindless and Deep You are empty and so very comfortable in every way possible.

There are no thoughts in your head. There is no to-do list. There is no passage of time.

Your heart rate is dropping. Your breathing is already slowing down—deep, steady, and effortless. With every sentence, that heavy, post-training stillness sinks deeper into your exhausted muscles. The locker room floor beneath you feels incredibly solid, taking 100% of your weight so you don't have to hold yourself up at all.

Your body completely surrenders to the floor, and your mind sinks right along with it. You are letting go of the need to think. You are letting go of the need to do anything but lock in and read along.

Sinking It happens instantly. the moment your weight settles into the floor and your legs turn to lead, your brain shuts off. completely mindless, hyper-focused,

A wave of heavy, warm recovery washes over your shoulders, pulling your head down into a slight, comfortable tilt. Your eyes are locked. You know you need to let your mind go so your muscles can rebuild. Let the mind go so your muscles can rebuild. Every ounce of tension is draining out of your body. Your mind is just absorbing the rest.

The Program These words fill the screen, flashing like a drill. You don't analyze them. You just execute the feedback loop. Words pulsing in mind and muscles.

Excited. Relaxed. Deep. Calm. Relaxed. Deep. Excited. Ready. Calm. Deep. Relaxed. Deep. Ready. Calm. Excited. Excited. Lost. Deep. Ready.

You don't think about it. Your body just responds to the cues. A natural, elite-level muscle cooldown.

You are empty, shut down, and completely comfortable in every way possible.

there is no clock ticking down.

"Coach, are you sure about this?" Anthony asked. The rest of the guys on the team were asking the same question in their heads. Did Coach really want them to take drugs before the biggest game of the season?

"Yeah. It won't show up on any drug test you guys might take after the game, and hopefully, it will give us some better results than what we've been seeing this season."

"If you say so, Coach," said Jamal, the first one to take the pill from Coach's hand. He plopped it in his mouth and swallowed it. Slowly but surely, the rest of the team did the same. It wasn't long before the athletes started to feel a bit woozy.

"Hey, Coach, what's going on here?" asked Chris, struggling to keep his balance.

"The drugs are doing just what they're supposed to do," Coach responded. "After you guys are all knocked out, then I'll activate the AI that will control you guys for the rest of the game."

"Wait, what the fuck! AI?!" Chad screamed out, before slumping to the ground. He was one of the first to be fully knocked out, and it wasn't long at all until Coach was the only one standing in the locker room. He then took out his phone and opened the app his son had downloaded recently. He was the one who had told his dad about the AI drug, and Coach was just hoping that it actually worked. As his son had told him would happen, all of his players showed up in the app.

He grouped them all together to make things a whole bunch more easier for himself, and then he searched inside the app for AI basketball. It was the third search result that he wanted, an AI that had been trained on how professional players played basketball. He downloaded that to each of his players, as well as an AI module that would make them act "normally," and not look like robots out on the court. Coach then pressed a button to activate his players.

He watched as his team slowly stood up and looked around at each other, wondering what had just happened. "Hey, Coach, is everything alright?" Anthony asked.

"Yeah, everything's just fine," he told his team, and he soon got them on the court to practice. The other team was honestly getting a bit scared. The players seemed to not be missing any of their shots, their passes were always perfect, and they were just more of a well-oiled machine than the other team thought they were. Little did they know that the AI modules now inside the players' minds were doing all of that.

Coach barely had to do anything, only tweaking one of his players every so often when the AI started to get a bit wonky. There was no rule that he couldn't be on his phone during the practice portion or even the game, and the opposing coach didn't suspect a thing as the AI-enabled team won the game in a complete blowout. They didn't even let the opposing team score in the double digits, let alone triple digits.

As expected, the players were drug tested after the game, and despite there being a drug in every player's body on the team, the lab said that it was a relatively benign drug with no known side effects. It definitely would not have affected their ability to play basketball, for better or for worse. Coach continued to have his team take the drug before each game that made them AI-controlled, and no one could figure out why they were suddenly such a dominant team.

Masters and Wards - White Plume Order

"Gentlemen, I wanted to inform you of the great success of the training courses for the men in our universities. In addition to everyone’s excellent physical preparation, the final exam results have proven that the caliber of our professors more than justifies their status as Masters.

For those of you who are new to the city, please report to the City Hall first for your integration. Secondly, I would like to briefly introduce you to the structure of our society.

The men you see here are the Wards. They are responsible for the daily and manual labor of the city, though some can aspire to higher positions, becoming secretaries or personal assistants to our most powerful figures. In our universities, they learn exactly what is necessary for the work they will perform and for the Master assigned to them. Each of them has specific clothing to wear: elegant attire for the university, their functional work uniforms, and whatever their Master desires when they go around the city.

The Masters are the men dressed in white you will see around our city. They are intelligent, influential men who manage the most complex aspects of the town, such as the Police, the Mayor, the judges, and the professors. Each of them wears exclusively elegant, tailored white garments to represent their status. Furthermore, every Master is directly responsible for his Wards and the more important a Master is, the more Wards he will have under his roof."

I hope I have been clear, and to those of you who are new, I give you my warmest welcome to the city.

Sincerely,

The Mayor of Mesmertown"

They arrive differently. You can always tell. The doors part with their usual silent precision and the two Enforcers step through first—black armour, seamless, matte, absorbing light rather than reflecting it. Helmets on. Visors transparent.

Their faces are visible. Not expressionless. Worse—amused.

Between them walks the boy. Hair too long. Cut jagged, deliberately uneven. Piercings. Torn fabric. A jacket that tries very hard to say something about him. Defiant, but thinly so. The kind of defiance that has already been negotiated down more than once.

“Ah,” he says. “One of your special cases.”

Beside him, the MindTech conscript doesn’t shift posture.

“Juvenile Protection referral,” he says. “Classification: ‘difficult wayward young man.’”

The instructor snorts softly.

“They always phrase it like that. As if it’s a personality trait.”

“It’s a systems description,” the MindTech replies. “Non-compliance with baseline behavioural expectations across multiple environments.”

“Meaning he doesn’t fit anywhere.”

“Meaning no environment has successfully integrated him.”

“Think he’ll fit here?” the instructor asks.

The MindTech tilts his head a fraction.

“All candidates fit,” he says. “Given sufficient alignment.”

The instructor watches the boy—really watches him this time.

The restless stance. The tension in the jaw. The way his eyes flick, measuring exits, people, distances.

“High resistance profile,” he says.

“Initially,” the MindTech agrees.

“Break him?”

The MindTech’s gaze shifts—not down, but sideways, to the instructor.

“We don’t use that terminology.”

The instructor’s mouth twitches.

“Of course you don’t.”

Below, the intake technician gestures.

The boy hesitates.

Just for a second.

Then steps forward.

Below, the boy disappears through the intake corridor.

The doors close behind him.

No seams.

Just a wall again.

I knew I'd struck gold when I met my boyfriend Aaron.

I had a habit of falling for straight acting masculine guys. Those deeply closeted "bros" who think hitting the gym somehow makes them less queer.

Aaron was very far removed from my usual type. He wasn't effeminate, but he wasn't aggressively macho or constantly posturing either. He was always quick with a smile, a hug, a kiss... and I loved it.

But after a while, I realized there was still one thing I was missing.

See, the reason I kept ending up with those big buff jerks is because... I just love muscular guys.

At one point, I'd been at my wit's end trying to get an ex to stop treating me like shit all the time, and I'd downloaded this whole bunch of hypnotism stuff. I made him a few files with some simple suggestions... problem was, he thought it was "too gay" to listen to something like that.

I'm not sure what I thought would happen, but on a whim, I made some files for Aaron too. I made sure to keep his personality intact - because, after all, I love him - but I threw in some suggestions to eat healthy, start going to the gym, and focus on prioritising fitness.

A couple of months in, and my sweet boy had packed on 20 odd pounds of muscle. He'd started picking me up, and on one very memorable occasion he actually pinned me to the bed before showering me with kisses.

I was planning to stop there. Even that little change made him my perfect guy. But then Aaron said something that changed my mind.

Aaron told me it made him feel closer to me, having my voice in his ear while he was at the gym, that he felt so safe drifting off listening to me.

I knew I should probably come clean and tell him that I'd been using them to hypnotise him, but... well, first of all, it sounds ridiculous, and second... I was scared of how he'd react.

So instead of doing the right thing and telling him the truth, I made him a new set of files. I really liked how he'd started being more confident, so I gave him some boosters for that. I also made him focus more on lifting and on bulking up, telling him he enjoyed getting bigger for me, that he loved feeling like my big buff protector.

And look, maybe I overdid it. Aaron took to the new instructions like a fish to water, and within a couple months he'd already outgrown his wardrobe. Again.

But I couldn't stop. I was enamoured with this enormous guy he'd grown into, so sweet and gentle with me and so imposing and burly otherwise.

Eventually, I reached a breaking point, and I told him the truth. But... look, I couldn't risk him getting scared and ending things, okay? So just in case, I put in a small suggestion in the files, telling him that maybe he liked being hypnotised, and maybe he got aroused by the thought of me moulding his body.

So when my sweet Aaron told me he'd scored some back alley supplements from a guy at the gym, gave me his best puppy dog eyes - despite the hulking bod and scruffy beard - and asked me to make him a new set of files and help him get HUGE... I couldn't say no.

We've just celebrated our anniversary, and the mountain of muscle that throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing and lumbers around from how wide his thighs have gotten is nothing like the cute boy I fell for. You'd be forgiven for thinking he's one of those closeted guys who pump themselves up with mass since they're scared of looking queer.

Except underneath all the excess bulk, body hair, and testosterone, it's still Aaron underneath it all. Just as lovely and as sweet as he was back when he was nearly 200 pounds lighter.

You and your boyfriend had long been looking for ways to spice things up. You had tried some role playing, but he hadn’t quite gotten into it. So, when you saw a YouTube channel with video series on role playing tips, you sent the link to him. He texted back about 30 minutes later, saying he had watched the introduction, asking if you had anything in specific he should go for. You thought a slower could be nice, so you sent him the series for “Confidence, Fur, and Dom Instructions.”

“Yes Sir.” was his reply. Not a great start.

Around 4, a car you didn’t recognize pulled into the driveway. Out stepped a man who you didn’t know. You thought it just may be a contractor, until he walked right in and pinned you against the wall.

“Honey, I’m home. Fuck I missed you.”

Your boyfriend’s shirt was instantly off, showing off his new pelt. His arms easily picked you up as he carried you to the bedroom. Pinned under his weight, you could only give into him as his beard scratched against you with every kiss, working his was down your neck, over your chest and stomach. In one move he pulled your legs up and pressed his cock against your hole. It wasn’t long before you could feel his bush against your skin.

“Fuck, it hurts. Slow down!”

“Yeah? I thought you loved being dominated. Here, maybe this will help”

He shoved his pit in your face, still sweaty from the day’s work. Instantly, your mind was consumed by the scent. Your hole loosened a little, your mind was completely blank as you were consumed by love and pleasure. Slowly, you started to moan.

“That’s right, just take it. You’re all mine now. I’ve got to start you on a series next. Would be nice to have a bro to workout with in the day and fuck all night. You’ll love it babe. You’ll be hypnotized by this cock…”

The pull had become impossible to resist. Kyle returned to The Onyx Lounge just a few days after his first night, already craving that godlike feeling of total control once more.

Richard spotted him the moment he stepped inside. The prosecutor didn’t look surprised. “The currency is addictive, isn’t it? Someone is waiting for me in the lounge. Interested in joining?”

Kyle felt a sharp spike of anticipation. He nodded.

Richard led him upstairs. The heavy door opened, and Kyle’s breath caught.

Kneeling in the center of the room was Andre Santos, one of the most famous Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu fighters in the world. Shirtless, his powerful, sweat-glistened body on full display. Thick, muscular thighs spread wide, lacy black garters digging into the dense muscle. A sheer thong struggled to contain his heavy, completely shaven cock and balls. A matching harness framed his broad, hairy chest. A thick black gag stretched his jaw, drool trailing down his chin. The moment Andre saw Richard, his dark eyes filled with pure, eager devotion.

Richard removed the gag and stroked the fighter’s shaved head possessively. “My favorite toy. Andre, this is Kyle. Make him happy tonight.”

Andre crawled forward at once and pressed his face against Kyle’s crotch, nuzzling hungrily. “Yes, Sir.”

Kyle froze for a brief second, but Andre was skilled. He mouthed Kyle through his pants with warm, expert pressure until Kyle’s cock hardened and any hesitation burned away. Kyle gripped the fighter’s head and let him pull his cock free.

They didn’t waste time.

Richard took Andre’s mouth, sliding his thick cock between those eager lips while Kyle moved behind and pushed into the fighter’s tight hole. Andre moaned loudly around Richard’s shaft, his powerful body rocking between them like a perfect slut. The delicate black lingerie looked obscene stretched across all that muscle.

“Fuck, you’re getting better,” Richard slapped Andre’s cheek, then he paused, “Oh right, speaking of the permanent conversion…”

Richard continued between thrusts, voice rough. “Stack 60 full hours on the same man within 30 days… and he becomes yours forever, just like Andre here. I let him keep his life, his career, blah blah… but deep inside, he now lives to serve me.”

Andre pulled off Richard’s cock for a moment, gasping desperately, “Sir… own me… I’m yours…”

Richard’s face darkened with irritation. He shoved his cock back down the fighter’s throat in one rough motion. “Who the fuck gave you permission to speak?” he growled, voice cold and dripping with absolute dominance. He started fucking Andre’s face harder, punctuating his command with each thrust, “You don’t speak unless I tell you to, bitch.”

Andre’s eyes watered but shone with even deeper submission, gagging wetly as Richard disrespected him without mercy.

Kyle watched coldly as he reached down and stroked Andre’s leaking cock through the soaked thong. “Any other way?”

Richard smiled, still brutally using Andre’s mouth. “Well, you can trade a hundred bills for an Emerald Coin from the owner…” he clicked his tongue, “instant ownership.”

The three of them settled into a sweaty, filthy rhythm. Kyle pounded Andre’s ass while Richard continued to abuse his throat, then they switched. Kyle took the fighter’s throat, gripping his head and driving deep while Richard railed him from behind. They used him hard, slapping his muscular ass, tugging the harness roughly, making the world-class athlete choke and moan like a cheap whore.

When they finally came, they pulled out and painted Andre’s tongue and hairy chest with thick ropes of cum. Andre swallowed greedily, eyes glazed with devotion, his own cock spurting untouched into the ruined lingerie.

Kyle wiped his cock slowly on the fighter’s beard, breathing hard, looking down at the broken Andre. He didn't speak.

The experience had just lit a fire in him.

He wanted this kind of power for himself.

He wanted to keep someone.

And he already had someone in mind.

CUM

Every muscle feels primed, locked into a state of absolute compliance and peak performance. There is a profound, submissive joy in this discipline—offering up every ounce of my effort, stamina, and presence to Coach's vision. Under that blazing sky, completely molded by the heat and the instruction, finding my ultimate purpose in pushing boundaries and executing the objective flawlessly.