The Product of Repression

"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.

He wasn't punishing her for anything. That was really the only thought remaining in Vicki's mind, echoing again and again between smacks as Peter swatted her ass with his flat, broad palm and chuckled in amusement every time her cunt clenched around his prick in response. She knew this wasn't punishment, because she was a good girl and she'd stopped even pretending she could fight her hypnotic Master, and that meant he was just doing it because he liked to redden her pretty pink butt and she was getting off on it because she liked being a plaything for his entertainment. And that was incredibly hot--degrading, yes, but hot, too.

Not that Vicki was especially sure where the boundary between degrading and hot even was anymore. That had been Peter's big breakthrough, the secret sauce that turned their playfully kinky relationship into something rapidly approaching true obeisance to his will--he'd learned that she got off on being made to feel inferior, not humiliated for it but simply forced to accept the unshakable truth that he was stronger and smarter and possessed of more willpower than she was, and that every time he used his hypnotic talents to make her feel too weak and horny and stupid to resist him she soaked up those suggestions like a sponge dipped into warm water. The spanking reminded her that her body was his to use however she wanted, and what turned her on so bad wasn't that she couldn't stop him but that she didn't even want to try.

Because… because fuck, it made her so wet. It turned Vicki on when her brain got all fuzzy with endorphins, producing a natural high that melted her mind to mush and made her body glow all over even before Peter started plowing her pretty cunt with his stiff cock. It made her whimper and moan to realize that something as simple as an open-palm spanking reduced her to vapid, simpering obsequence, and moreover that she was becoming so well trained that he could reliably expect her to beg for exactly this kind of treatment just by placing his hand against her bare ass and giving her a playful smile. Nothing made Vicki feel weak like pleading to be smacked on the butt, and feeling weak was the skeleton key that unlocked total dominance for whoever chose to claim it.

It was self-reinforcing, too; every time Vicki thought about how pathetic she was becoming, every time she realized he was training her out of the habit of thinking for herself as surely and as easily as if she was a recalcitrant puppy, Vicki's cunt throbbed and dripped so hard she had to spend a couple of hours edging herself. And edging just made her needier, and that neediness always drove her back to her Master, and before she knew it Vicki was begging and pleading to be used according to his whims while her swollen clit pulsed in ecstasy at the reedy, whimpering sound of her own voice. Vicki honestly didn't see any way she could recover her dignity at this point, and she couldn't even remember what the purpose of trying was anymore.

Which meant she was only going to get weaker. And wetter. And dumber. And deeper. And her reward for that was more of this, more of being used however her Master saw fit. And that was enough to make Vicki cum around Peter's thrusting prick, until the whole world went white with pleasure and she barely even noticed him spurting jet after jet of hot sticky jizz deep inside her welcoming cunt.

"Wait, this is seriously your first ever time at one of Carrie's parties? Oh my god, you have GOT to try the booth!" The leggy blonde with the perky plastic tits bounced to her feet and grabbed Daphne by the wrist, tugging her up and off the couch and through room after crowded room until they wound up somewhere just off the swimming pool and Daphne's friends were left far behind. "Oh my god, like, the booth is just, like, the best! I mean, it's not getting a lot of use tonight, because most of Carrie's guests are, y'know, repeat customers and all, but if this is your first time then you've never been inside and it's gonna, like, totally blow your mind!"

The whole thing felt a bit surreal, certainly strange enough that Daphne kind of realized only after the fact that she'd been led away by a giggly, ditzy stranger she'd only been talking to for about five minutes, but then again getting invited to an actual honest-to-god mansion was pretty weird, too. Daphne kept on thinking someone was going to notice her and ask what the hell that mousy, flat-chested woman with the dull brown hair was doing here, and it felt like such a relief for one of the glamorous and pretty women to take an interest in her that she didn't exactly leap to assert herself. Not even when they went inside what looked like a glorified shower stall and the door closed behind them with a sinister click.

It turned out to have one hugely significant difference from a shower stall, though. One entire wall flickered and glitched, revealing itself to be not tile like the others but an LED screen displaying the image of a wall, and the blonde giggled and clapped as it began to pulse with a whole series of colored lights and patterns. "Now, like, you're gonna, um, find yourself wanting to do things, and that's, like, totally okay because you're going to feel so good when you give in and do them. Like, don't overthink it or anything, in fact you should maybe, um, underthink a little? It's so much fun to underthink, babe. It's so much fun to think less and watch more." There was a weird intensity to the last sentence, like the other woman was giving a command, but Daphne couldn't pay attention to it because the lights were taking up her full concentration.

They were just… fuck, they were so pretty. They were so pretty, and they were making her pussy so wet, and Daphne knew that didn't make a lot of sense but she also knew she needed to get her clothes off right fucking now so she could feel that beautiful radiance against every last inch of her skin. "There you go!" her new best friend chirruped, a breathy hitch in her voice as she undressed right alongside Daphne. "See? It's, like, it doesn't hit quite the same the second or third or, um… more… time around, but it still feels good. And for you, cutie, it's gonna totez fuck up that big smart brain of yours." That sounded faintly ominous, but Daphne couldn't really think about it. She couldn't think about anything with the sexy blonde's fingers going down between Daphne's thighs to rub her pussy.

She tried to speak, but it only came out as garbled whimpers, and she was only barely aware of her own hand reaching between the blonde's thighs to match her rubbing motions. "That's a good girl!" the blonde cooed, her voice filled with encouraging praise, and Daphne felt a resistance she didn't even realize she'd been holding onto simply crumble into nothing. She moaned and mewled, her eyes wide and helpless, and knew that this was going to be only the first of many visits to Carrie's mansion and her very special booth.

CW: cnc that's a bit weird about the c part, emotional sadism, rape kink metacommentary

"It's not exactly rape if you're enjoying it." I point out.

"Just because I'm asking for it doesn't mean I would enjoy it."

Not the answer I was expecting. The usual response I get is one of mildly frustrated pushback, pouty faces, muttered accusations of I-know-but-you're-supposed-to-play-along. I have a reputation, and that reputation invites a crowd I don't care for.

See, people say 'rape' and mean 'sex we pretend I am not into', because they've got hangups about being into sex. Of course we all have hangups - I just don't want to indulge those particular ones. It always feels like I'm expected to read someone's mind and then play dumb about what I see there.

She continues. "I know myself. Know I'd hate it in the moment. Just thinking about it makes my stomach seize up. Talking about it, too. And yet I want it. Simple as that."

"You can want it. Doesn't mean you can consent to it."

It's bait. But I want to know her own justification, in her own words.

"People get tattoos, run ultramarathons until their bodies give out, take molly and struggle their way through suicide Tuesday. This isn't any different. I get to make my future self suffer if I want to."

I nod, pretend to think for a moment. Then I speak.

"Six months. One month. And then three months."

A moment to build anticipation before I explain.

"Six months for me to work my way into your life. Calls. Hangouts. Heart-to-hearts. One month for me to strike, if I feel like it then. No restrictions beyond that. Maybe I'll get you at midnight on the first day. Maybe I'll wait a bit. Maybe I'll tell you I changed my mind, that I just want to be friends, and then I slip something in your drink two days before the deadline."

Words are so fucking limited a medium. I desperately want to describe the face she makes at that. I settle for committing it to memory. Outwardly, I just keep talking.

"And then, three months where I won't do anything. Won't allow anything. Time for you to think about what happened. I suggest spending some of it far away from me."

I watch her think. Stare hard enough at the cave wall, and maybe you'll figure out what's casting the shadows. I'm not acting the way she expected. But I'm not acting the way she feared, either.

Eventually, she decides that she understands me. Her voice is softer than it was a moment ago. Reverent.

"...you're giving me time. To make sure this isn't a whim. To process everything. You... obviously you're okay with me being hurt. But you don't want me to be hurt more than necessary."

Something inside of me shifts.

I don't quite know how it shows itself. I've tried to understand, though - have asked a few people to describe how I look like this. Sudden and terrifying, one got stuck on. A more poetically inclined soul said it was like I swapped out the soul behind my eyes.

"Do I?"

How would she describe it, I wonder?

"Maybe I just want to build trust before I violate it. Maybe I want to watch you, month after month, as you grow ever more comfortable around me. Maybe I want to see you try and forget what I'm going to do to you. Maybe I just want time to make sure it hurts as much as possible."

She doesn't flinch, but I watch her pupils dilate, her hands clench. There's a gap between being composed and being calm, and I fight the urge to stick a knife in there and pry it all the way open. I do twist it, just a bit.

"Or maybe I just want to make it seem like I care. Play the part of the ethical sadist because that's a type of person you need to be real. You're a good person. If you think I am too, if you think everything I did was with your well-being in mind, then I'm safe. You won't do a thing to hurt me. Won't think I deserve that."

There's a moment, uncertain and delicious, where I wonder if she'll turn and run, but no one ever does. I soften my expression in a flash, keep quiet but smile in a way that implies a thousand reassurances. Did you have fun? Are you okay? The scary dom act really got to you, didn't it? I hope it wasn't too much?

She relaxes a bit, and that's when I go in for the kill.

"God. You really are so eager to assume the best of someone willing to rape you."

I savor the way she shivers at that. Whatever my other reasons, everything I said, I said so I could see this.

Last edit: April 2026

So you’ve heard some folks evangelizing at play parties, you’ve read some hot smut, and you’ve decided you’re excited about Erotic Hypnosis™. Well, I don’t blame you, cuz it’s objectively the hottest kink (she said, objectively). But how do you start practicing it for yourself? I mean, you can do what I did and just sort of flail until you somehow found yourself firmly embedded in the community, but if you want a slightly less chaotic approach, here’s where I might start:

Read(/Listen)

The “Bible of hypnokink” is Mind Play by Mark Wiseman. This is probably the best place to start for anyone interested in this kink!

Learn Hypnokink is a GREAT, digestible online resource about what this kink is and how to do it

9 Persisting Misconceptions About Hypnosis, a zine by sleepingirl and GleefulAbandon

Two Hyp Chicks is a delightful, educational, and often v hot podcast about hypnokink by sleepingirl and cckitten.

Hypnotic Amnesia by Lee Allure and DJ Pynchon is a bit more niche, but still a super neat window into how this kink works and one of the specific, rad things you can do with it.

Get Horny

Go read/watch some porn. Seriously. There are some links in the preamble above, I’ll wait. Take the porn with a grain of salt, because it’s not necessarily realistic, but it can definitely give you a sense of what parts of this play turn you on, which will help you figure out what in the hypno-sphere you actually want to get up to. A handful of specific suggestions:

Written:

ReadOnlyMind is the shiny new hub for hypno-smut and smut for its related kinks!

In particular, the #real-play tag (and probably handful of analogous tags) contains smut about erotic hypnosis as it’s practiced in real life, rather than fantasy mind control stuff

The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive is probably the biggest repository of written material, though also very inconsistent in quality, and can be Problematic™. Still, it has been responsible for many orgasms in its time

Jukebox is a rad and particularly prolific writer. I mention him in particular because he has so much stuff out there that if you browse his archive, you’re sure to find a story or two that catches your eye

Other authors that I particularly like:

My smut lives here

h-sleepingirl

EllaEnchanting

Ari (see also: Tumblr)

And dream-operator

Video:

Mesmerotic: real hypnokinksters doing real hypnokink and being extremely fuckin’ hot about it!

Entrancement: this is the real deal. Erotic hypnosis done by an actual erotic hypnotist, it actually gives you a pretty good idea of how this sort of play might work

Classes and Cons

Honestly, the best way to learn about this stuff is to go to classes! Look for your local hypnokink group—if you live in/near a reasonably-sized city, I bet you have one—or go to one of the many rad hypno cons out there. This list is somewhat out of date, but you can start here.

There are full entire cons for hypnokink, the most prominent of which are Charmed, Beguiled, and NEEHU.

Also many broader kink events have a hypnokink track or a few hypno classes in there (lookin’ at you, TES Fest!

You can learn from people who have been doing this for a while, and maybe even more importantly, just meet some cool folks!

Meet Humans and Chat

You can find experienced hypno-players with whom to shoot the shit either in person (at classes/cons/events) or on the interwebs. There’s a small but mighty band of hypno folks on Tumblr, and a handful of varyingly active Discord servers for local groups and big national communities.

The biggest Discord server I know of is Erotic Hypnosis (invite link here) – you can meet folks there and find a bunch of educational resources, as well as probably use it as a jumping-off point for smaller regional groups.

Practice

Honestly, this is the hardest and most useful part. If you wanna get into this kink, practice is key! It’s the only real way to develop these skills—and this is true on either side of the pocket watch, as it were. How to do it, though?

With a play partner

As either a ‘tist or a subject, it’s easiest to learn the ropes with an experienced partner to guide you through. You can find play partners at events or on the interwebs, as mentioned above. (Note too that hypno is particularly well suited to long-distance play—you don’t need to be in the same place with these folks to practice with them!) I’d add: at kink events, mention hypno in your cruising post! There are hypnokinksters everywhere, I bet you’ll get some responses.

You can definitely practice this stuff with someone else who’s new to the game, though, as long as you both communicate lots! Talk about what does and doesn’t feel good, and experiment until you find stuff that works for you. And don’t hesitate to reach out to your hypno-scene contacts for help and advice!

For ‘tists: if you feel uncomfortable making up your own inductions, you can start reading from scripts, to get a feel of how hypno works! But I’d encourage you to start making stuff up as soon as possible, because it helps you gain fluency, and ultimately makes you a better hypnotist.

By yourself

Self-hypnosis is a great way to practice hypnokinky stuff! There are a lot of greatttt hypnosis files out there. Some folks I’d particularly recommend:

My stuff :-)

Lee Allure 

Chew Toy

The Secret Subject

Ella Enchanting

DeepDiscourse

Impish

Tennfan

Imaginatrix

Sinister Denial

For hypnotists: if you’re comfortable with it, I definitely recommend trancing a little yourself, just so you can get a feel for what it’s like, and better understand your subjects’ experience. Regardless of whether you personally want to practice trancing, I’d still recommend listening to some files and getting a feel for how other hypnotists do things—it’ll help you develop your own style!

With a pro

Paying a professional for a session—whether it’s play or a lesson—is a great way to dip your toe in hypnokinky waters while knowing that you’re in good hands. Check out:

Dahlia Lark

Imaginatrix

Sinister Denial

Lee Allure

So, like. If all I need to do to make you feel uncomfortably overwhelmed by your proximity to me in that way you desire. To feel like you don't have enough space to breathe and you desperately need to escape. If all is takes is something as simple as to loosely wrap my fingers around your wrist. As long as you enjoy it enough to let me do it, I expect we'll need a bit of aftercare. Then I'm going to have so much fun doing that.

A simple question appears in black letters.

What is 2 + 2?

I blink. That's it? My brain, still groggy, answers automatically.

Four.

There's a small button panel under my fingers. I press 4. For half a second nothing happens...then... a sharp jolt tears through my body. Pain crackles down my spine and I gasp, my muscles painfully tightening against the restraints.

"What th..."

The screen clears. The question appears again.

What is 2 + 2?

My heart pounds. That had to be a mistake. A glitch. I press 4 again. Another shock. Harder this time. I cry out, my breath catching in my throat, my mind races. That's impossible. Two plus two is four. The screen resets again.

What is 2 + 2?

My fingers hover over the buttons. This doesn't make sense. I know the answer. I've always known the answer. Numbers were always easy for me. Patterns. Logic. I was the girl teachers called "too clever for her own good". So why... my hand trembles. I press 4 again. The shock this time is brutal. My body jerks against the restraints and a strangled sound escapes me. Tears prick my eyes. The screen resets again.

What is 2 + 2?

My breathing is uneven now. Something is wrong with the test...or with the machine...or with… me. I stare at the numbers. My brain says four, but four hurts. Slowly, hesitantly, I press 3. I brace myself. Waiting for pain. Instead...

A soft vibration hums through the chair. Warmth spreads through my body. Not pain. Not punishment. Pleasure. My muscles loosen without meaning to. The feeling fades after a few seconds. The screen changes.

Actual misogynists and sexists are far too stupid and dull to be interesting or sexy. Their words are tasteless, clumsy and primitive.

"Um, like, um, so, umm… w-what was I saying?" Miranda put her finger to her chin as if to muse in deep thought for a moment, but wound up sucking on her finger with a lewd, fellating motion for several seconds instead. "Oh, um, yeah, so right, you can't, like… you can't hypno someone all, uhh, dumb like that. Like you were, y'know, um, saying. Like, there's all sorts of, um… safeties, and like, stuff down in your brain and stuff that makes it, like, super hard to really trick your mind that way?" She paused again, going momentarily slack-jawed as her other hand rubbed her pussy to the very edge of climax before freezing in place in accordance with Lorna's suggestions. It was glorious to watch.

"But what if the subject's subconscious received a reward for her compliance with the suggestions?" Lorna smoothly inserted into the pause, watching with an expression of delight on her face as the supposedly brilliant research psychiatrist furrowed her brow in an attempt to figure out at least three of those big words with her pussy throbbing like that. "I mean, we're all familiar with operant conditioning by now, we all understand the principle of positive reinforcement. If hypnosis is used to alter perception and memory, then surely it can be used to manufacture a scenario where the subject is reinforcing the desired behavior without even the slightest comprehension of their own obedience."

For a moment Lorna genuinely wondered if that had been too much at once--Miranda's eyes went dull and glassy as she tried to push the complex concepts through her inexplicably feeble brain, and wound up drooling all over her heavy tits instead. The vacuous, horny brunette's fingers went into a frenzy of rubbing, turning her pussy into a leaky mess as every single attempt at cognition was translated into arousal instead, and Lorna legitimately thought she might have turned Miranda's brain to mush before the younger woman stumbled on the strategy of simply pretending she understood. "Well, like, yeah, I knew all that, but…."

Another frenzy of rubbing as Miranda tried to figure out what to say next. She wasn't consciously aware that she was down to just her bra and panties, any more than she knew her bra was yanked down and her panties were pulled to the side and she was giving Lorna a free show while she edged herself dumber, but that was exactly what made the conditioning so effective in the first place. Because she wasn't aware of the inextricable association between limiting her own intellect and sexual pleasure, it just seemed like sourceless ecstasy flowing into her brain whenever she struggled to think. "But, like, smart girls stay smart, y'know? They don't, like, really get dumb."

Lorna chuckled. "Oh, I'm aware that on the subconscious level there's a certain performative aspect to the loss of intelligence," she replied, savoring Miranda's every gasp and whimper as the deepening confusion in the woman's mind made her pussy that much wetter and needier. "But the conscious identity isn't aware of any subconscious buy-in. As far as it's concerned, whatever cognitive difficulties the subject is experiencing are entirely unfeigned and natural, and the longer it goes on the more the subject will accept their new mental state as the default." Miranda let out a gasping grunt, unable to hide her evident arousal at the concept she barely understood, and Lorna decided she was glad she'd come to the conference after all. It was so nice to make new professional connections and test new theories… and the fringe benefits were even more enjoyable than she remembered.