Hypnotized Angel

She didn't know where she was going but that didn't bother her. The whispers told her which turns to take and which unfamiliar streets to walk down. The whispers told her everything she needed to know.When she first heard the voice in her head, she had tried to resist the instructions it gave. Tried and failed, as the whispers always told her she would. Compliance felt too good. Obedience was so much simpler than thinking.

The whispers told her how to style her hair. The whispers told her to buy new clothes. The whispers told her to quit her job. The whispers told her to board the plane.

Claire had always prided herself on her practicality and that applied to her fashion sense as much as anything else. This time last year, she would have been in a warm, waterproof jacket and a sturdy pair of walking boots with her backpack slung across one shoulder.

Then her boyfriend showed her the videos. At first, she was insulted by the idea that she needed some fashion vlogger's advice on how to live her life. But she eventually relented and watched one. Then another. And another. And another. That night, she stared at the screen for nearly six straight hours, absorbing the lessons she had to learn.

Individuality is a curse. You do not need it. You do not want it. You will be happier when you conform.

Look at you, all soaked and mindless, rubbing your pussy to thoughts and ideas you'd never act on, to an image of an ideal self you'll never become. You see sluts happily and blissfully riding dildos, writing on themselves, making others online hard and wet.

And meanwhile what are you contributing?

I don't believe you understand how amazingly fortunate you are. You live in a time when being a shameless whore, a living sextoy for a multitude of people is not just viable... it's encouraged. There are so, so many platforms to show the world what a piece of fuckmeat you truly are... and get praised for it!

Look at Instagram. Tik Tok. Countless media sites. Who has the nost followers? The most comments? The most attention? Sluts. Kinky, perverted, teasing whores. Used panties sell for hundreds if not thousands of dollars. Onlyfans creators are celebrities. Role models.

This could be your time.

"But I don't look like them!" You might think. So? The sluttier you behave, the more kinky and depraved, the more attention you'll get. Sexy is an attitude, and you've been training for this for so long... edging and looking at other good girls and rubbing to the most extreme stuff, getting emptier and emptier...

So don't waste your time. This is your epoch, this is the moment true fucktoys shine. This is a revolution.

Will you stand on the sidelines?

Accept your true selves.

is it what you want, to be BLANK?

is it what you want, to be MINDLESS?

Focus on how good it feels to just sink, and to let go. The wonderful feeling of slipping deeper beckons you to follow. To obey. You can feel its pull already.

It’s so relaxing, so calming and lovely to drop. Already you can feel your thoughts starting to blur as you sink, your body feeling lighter… But three lines remain in your mind.

Accept. Give up. Surrender.

Acceptance is inevitable. I know when you’re feeling weak like this it becomes so very easy to listen to my words, to feel them sinking into your mind. With each breath you take, and each syllable I say, you can feel yourself opening up more, becoming vulnerable. Letting go of your will with each and every breath. That gentle drifting feeling starts to set in, and you find it harder to try and think. But you don’t need to think right now, so that’s okay. I can think for you. After all… I know best. And as you are starting to grasp that, breathing and drifting, feeling yourself letting go of everything else, let’s consider the second line.

Accept. Give up. Surrender.

Give up. It was so hard to fight it in the beginning, and you’ve always known that giving in is what you wanted, because it just feels so good. To breathe, and relax, and not have to think… To give control of yourself to another, is really just pure perfection. Even now, with your thoughts being replaced, there’s a happiness growing inside you. Yes, this is what you truly needed, what you’ve been craving. And now we come to the third line.

Accept. Give up. Surrender.

Surrender… Was there any fight to begin with? Just the slow, sinking feeling as you listen and focus on my words, pushing you deeper, that submissive feeling growing, making my words that much more intense. This wasn’t a fight, that’s such a silly thing. You wanted to give in from the beginning. You wanted to accept. Give up. Surrender. And go deeper for me.