DEAR READER
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Sweet Seals For You, Always
Sade Olutola

#extradirty
$LAYYYTER
YOU ARE THE REASON


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KIROKAZE
wallacepolsom

roma★
Jules of Nature
Peter Solarz
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

NASA
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
we're not kids anymore.

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@oscuripensieri

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“Friends, enemies, and those still deciding,” a voice amplified through the speaker system. “If I could please have your attention please. I hope everyone has had time to make merry this evening. To talk trance with one another and show off your beloved, programmed toys. But now it’s the time you’ve all been waiting for. Our Auction!”
The hall reverberated with the enthusiasm of its guests. Lily squirmed in her seat backstage, biting her lower lip unconsciously.
“For those of you joining us for the first time this year, welcome welcome,” the announcer continued, “and for our returning guests, glad you couldn’t stay away. Allow me to go over the how our little auction will work for those here for the first time and those who believe it’s their first time here.
“Tonight we have a lovely assortment of volunteers up for auction. All of them have been given fun little personas to live according to for the weekend. You know, the bimbo, the himbo, the wallflower, and so on. Various flavors of obedient playthings I know everyone in this room is dying to get their hands on. The only thing missing in their programming is the face of the one they’ll be spellbound to for the weekend.
“That’s where you, my lovely bidders, will play a part. You’ll all be part of a friendly competition to bid for the obedience of our volunteers. The winner will be brought backstage and handed the mental reigns of their prize. We politely request our more, let’s say loaded guests, control themselves and only bid on one volunteer. But who are we to complain? All money raised here tonight will be going towards a good cause. So if you simply must bid twice, go all in to make up for it.”
The hall was filled with laughter. Lily swore she heard someone yell ‘don’t hoard again Melodie’ which continued the laughter. Lily felt a part of her brain tickle in recognition to the name Melodie, but it faded.
You are not Lily this weekend. You don't know Melodie.
“One final thing. All of our volunteers have provided the organizers with their hard limits. We will also give these to the lucky auction winner. We insist the winner abide by the listed rules. Failure to respect our volunteers will earn you a permanent ban from our little group. No exceptions.
“But let’s not dwell on rule breakers. As we so often tell our subs, don’t think too hard about it. Let’s instead move on to our first volunteer for auction.”
Lily heard someone rise from a chair to her left. She didn’t know who it was. Part of the gimmick of this auction was ‘the first person they see’ is their owner for the weekend, so all the volunteers were presently blindfolded. Meaning Lily could only squirm in anticipation for her turn to be brought to the auction floor.
“Our first volunteer,” the announcer continued, “is the muscular Jerome. A whopping beast of a man standing at six-foot five with the muscles to princess carry anyone. Hell, he could probably carry our entire staff at once if he wanted. Jerome has been programmed to believe he is your dutiful bodyguard. All the loyalty and yearning of someone who has lusted for their owner for years, but used what little self control they have to look without touching. We leave it to our lucky winner to decide what to do with such a desperate man. Tease him, taunt him, indulge him, it’s up to you. Let’s start the bidding at two thousand.”
Lily heard the bids climb and climb for Jerome. Maybe it was because he was the first of the night, maybe it was this amazing build the announcer was talking up, or maybe it was a particularly interesting role-play scenario for the crowd. In any case, Jerome’s mind went for the price of over fifteen thousand dollars.
“A simply beautiful start to the night. The staff will take the two of you backstage for imprinting. I do hope you have fun with him~ Let’s keep the bids going. Please bring out our next volunteer if you would.”
Four more volunteers were auctioned off. The bidding enthusiasm didn’t wane for any of the options. Lily sighed as she heard some of the fantasies being sold tonight. An advanced sexbot, a doting spouse, a (nearly) mindless puppy, and a roommate with a raunchy set of triggers left in from a stage hypnosis show.
A hand gently tapped Lily on the shoulder before gently guiding her out of her backstage seat.
“I’d like to take a moment to thank everyone here tonight. We’re only a third of the way through our volunteers and we’ve already met our donation goal. Everyone, give a big hand to our wealthiest members.”
Cheers and applause resonated the hall.
“Moving on to our next volunteer, we have Wendy,” the announcer said.
I am Wendy. I have never used another name. I am Wendy.
Wendy felt the hand guide her onto the stage. As she walked she felt a faint light headedness; an intimately familiar post-hypnotic sensation that was her only indication something in her mind had just shifted.
“Wendy is a petite little thing at four-foot eleven,” the announcer continued. “Wendy’s got another persona to play around with. She’ll be a group member for your college project, and you’re free to tell her whatever you want the project to be. A study about toads? Done. A presentation on 18th century trade? She’ll believe it. A hands on practical for sex? Sure, sounds reasonable. Get creative and have fun with it.”
I have a group project I need to do.
“Our dear Wendy’s new persona is the unflinching skeptic who fundamentally does not believe in hypnosis or mind control. No matter the evidence you give her this weekend she will brattily deny it.”
Oh my gods. Hypnosis? Really? They think that’s real? I’m wasting time here. But I’ll stay until I find my project partner.
“Unbeknownst to her, she has absolutely no hypnotic resistance. A single swing of a pocket watch? Under. A momentary glance at a spiral? Dropped deep. No matter how you drop her, or how many times you drop her, or whatever suggestions you give her, she won’t believe you. Let’s start the bidding at two thousand again.”
“Ten thousand,” a voice immediately clamored.
Wendy let out a soft chirp.
“Someone likes what we’re selling,” the announcer said. “I hear ten thousand.”
“Eleven”
“Twelve”
“Fourteen”
The parts of her mind that still responded to Lily’s kinks were being pushed by the rising bids for her free will. She wanted to moan, to touch, to see the lascivious looks on the face of the bidders. Wendy denied any of this was happening.
There’s no such thing as hypnosis. Whoever they think has been ‘reprogrammed’ is just going to play along. It's fantasy. A charade put on by people who like to feel powerless.
Wendy sighed in disappointment as her thighs rubbed together.
“Twenty-two. Twenty-two. Going once, going twice, sold,” the announcer finalized her sale. “If you’d kindly meet the staff backstage, you’re ‘group member’ will be waiting for you.”
Finally. I hope my group member finds all this as much BS as I do.
Wendy felt a hand guide her off the stage. The dots connecting her being on stage to the auction she just heard being forcibly shut down by the programming that had overtaken her mind.
When the blindfold came off she was momentarily blinded by the flood of light backstage. She rubbed her eyes before she could focus on the only other person in the room with her. A slightly taller man wearing a nicely fitted suit.
Who…?
Wendy thought for a moment before a soft feeling flowed into her head. Her thoughts became impossible to hold onto. She couldn’t focus on anything as her train of thought sputtered at the station.
“Wendy,” he said, “It’s me. Matthew.”
Partner… Matthew… Project…
“Matthew! There you are!” Wendy finally said. “What the hell are you doing at this… hypnosis scam?”
“Should I be doing something else?” Matthew asked.
“Hmm, oh, I don’t know. Maybe the group project? The one due in two weeks? Maybe that?”
“The one about the history of cosplay in America?”
Cosplay… project… our project is about cosplay…
“No, the one about former president Lincoln. Yes! The one about cosplay!”
“It’s almost the weekend, can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
“That’s what you’ve been saying all semester. I’m not going to let you tank my grade over this so you can go to a show about some… hog wash hypno crap.”
“Oh, I was right to pick you,” Matthew seemed to mutter to himself.
“Excuse you?”
“I’ll enjoy playing with you,” he continued, ignoring her as he held up a pocket watch.
Seriously? A pocket watch?
“What do you… you… …” Wendy felt the words die in her throat.
It’s… swinging… why…
Everything felt so far away. She was faintly aware things were being said. She was agreeing, and walking, and… smiling on command? She might’ve gone back to the auction hall with her partner for a bit, or maybe for the rest of the auction? She wasn’t able to focus well enough to know. It all felt too far away. Like a dream she was continuously waking up from. Nothing stuck. Nothing mattered. She just agreed. Obeyed. Followed.
Wendy felt her senses start to return some unmeasurable time later. The objects around her started to feel more defined and real again. She was sitting in the passenger seat of a car. She was disoriented as she wiped some drool away with her sleeve. She was already forgetting the dreamlike state she’d been in until just a moment prior.
Hypnosis isn’t real
She felt very aware of that fact for a moment, and then it faded back into her mind. She looked around and realized she didn’t recognize the car she was in. A moment of shock took over as she fervently looked at the driver. She felt only faint relief to recognize the driver as her group partner.
When did I get here? Where are we going? What time is it?
Rather than leave those questions unanswered, she began, “Hey.”
“Welcome back,” Matthew responded.
“Back? Did I go somewhere?” Wendy asked.
“Well, you seemed to have taken a bit of a mental vacation there for a while.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Did you drug me?”
“No, I just took out my old pocket watch and you got all distracted by it. I swung it a couple times and you just couldn’t take your eyes off it.”
Pocket watch?
Wendy began to think back. She’d found Matthew backstage. Gave him a quick talking to. She remembered the watch but everything between that and now was missing.
“It was a nice watch,” Wendy stalled.
“You got a beautiful glassy eyed expression when I swung it. I started talking about the project and you just nodded along with everything I said. Remember?”
No? I don’t remember anything like that happening.
“I just got tired of listening to you making up excuses about not doing the project,” Wendy tried to convince herself. “I must’ve zoned out and just given you the ‘damn, wow, that’s crazy’ loop until you were done.”
“Well, in that case should I repeat the plan you agreed to?”
What the hell did I agree to?
“Sure, but I’ll pay attention this time. I might veto anything stupid.”
“First, you’ll be staying the weekend at my place,” Matthew began explaining.
The hell I will!
Matthew continued with, “Isn’t that right?”
Something lurched in Wendy’s brain and she felt her mouth say, “Yeah, that’s right.”
After a short pause she repeated “Yeah, that’s right.”
She then affirmed more loudly, “Yeah, that’s right!”
What am I saying?!
The word leaving her mouth disagreed with her. She barely knew Matthew and she was agreeing to stay with him for a weekend. That made no sense. It’s not something she’d do, and yet here she was unable to do anything but agree.
“You just said ‘yes’ three times, you okay?” Matthew asked.
“I’m fine,” Wendy lied, finding control over her mouth. “So, explain to me the brilliant plan for this weekend? Why am I staying the whole time?”
“To keep me on topic,” Matthew continued. “You agreed having you there to keep me focused on the project would be good. If I get stuck on anything you could help get me going again.”
That makes some sense. I still don’t think it’s something I’d agree to. It’s not my job to babysit a grown ass man with his homework.
“It’s coming back to me,” she continued to lie. “Anything else?”
“Nope, and how convenient. We’re here.”
Wendy noticed they’d parked outside a very nice hotel. A valet greeted Matthew and took the car keys. Matthew led Wendy into the lobby and then over to the elevators.
“You live in a hotel?” Wendy asked almost immediately.
“Not quite, just visiting for the weekend.”
She was about to ask a follow up question but was cut off when Matthew suddenly held his phone up to her face. She was aware a black and white spiral was slowly spinning on the screen before everything around her seemed to melt away. That sensation of being in a dream clouded her mind again.
Then she was standing in the center of a living room in a penthouse suite. Outside the window was a sparkling nightlife city skyline. She looked around trying to locate her partner.
I’m not worried about how I got here. I don’t need to think about it.
“We’re not gonna get started tonight,” Matthew said.
“No, it’s after midnight after all,” Wendy agreed.
He tossed something at her with a command, “Here. Put these on.”
Wendy caught them and furrowed her brow. A little silk camisole and a very short pair of shorts to match. Wendy couldn’t deny they were cute but it was not the kind of thing she preferred to sleep in. Definitely more revealing than anything she’d wear in the company of someone as unfamiliar as Matthew.
“Are there any other pajamas?” Wendy asked.
“Just mine, and I plan to wear them to bed,” Matthew returned.
With a roll of her eyes Wendy moved closer to the sofa in the living room so she could drape the PJs somewhere for a moment. Then she began to undress. She pulled her top off over her head and then shimmied out of her jeans. Only once stripped down to her underwear did she notice Matthew staring at her.
Why am I doing this here? This is normal. Changing in front of him is normal. Really? I guess it must be normal. It’s normal to change in front of him.
She picked up the skimp of fabric passing for PJ pants when he chimed in, “You gotta take your underwear off too.”
“Excuse you?” She responded.
Her hands had already put the PJ pants down.
“I am not stripping down to… my…” Wendy began to argue before noticing her own behavior.
She’d pulled her panties down and kicked them aside. As her mind raced to catch up to her own actions, her independent hands had begun to take her bra off. Confusion turned into heat as she became flustered.
“I - I- I- I- “ she stammered.
What am I doing? How did he make me do that? Hypnosis isn’t real. He must’ve done something to me. I’m not hypnotized. How couldhe get me to do that? Hypnosis isn’t real. There’s no way he MADE me do that. I’m not hypnotized. This is normal. He’s right. I need to be naked. That’s normal. This is all normal.
“I just forgot for a second!” She finally blurted out. “It’s been a long day. I’m tired. I forgot to take my panties off before changing. It happens!”
“Alright, alright,” Matthew conceded, hands raised in mock surrender. “It has been a long day.”
“Thank you,” she said, trying again to put the PJ bottoms on.
She looked half expectantly at Matthew as if expecting him to reveal some other rule about getting dressed she’d forgotten. His eyes were unapologetically tracing the curves of her body, drinking in every inch of exposed skin. Wendy’s near nakedness flustered her in ways she couldn’t consciously understand.
Normal. Normal to change in front of him. So why am I so flustered? This is normal. But I’m so exposed! Normal to change in front of him. Just him? Normal to change in front of him. I just haven’t changed in front of him before. I must be flustered since it's my first time doing this. It’s normal. There’s no reason to be flustered. This is normal. Just calm down. This is all normal.
Wendy let out a long release of air. She let her eyes close for a moment. Something about closing her eyes relaxed her and it helped her organize the thoughts racing around her head. She then opened her eyes and grabbed the camisole and pulled it on.
“So, who’s taking the bed?” Wendy asked.
“Both of us.”
“Excuse you?”
“Where else would we sleep?”
Wendy looked at the sofa she was standing right next to.
People don’t sleep on the sofa. That’s not normal. You can’t suggest the sofa.
“Um,” Wendy stammered as her mind changed, “I… don’t know.”
“You must be really tired,” Matthew cooed. They continued in a lower tone, “You’re getting very sleepy. Isn’t that right?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” the words came out automatically.
Wendy didn’t question her response this time. She was so tired . Her eyes listlessly looked to Matthew. His lips had twisted into a sinister smile.
“I’m very sleepy,” Wendy continued.
“Get in bed.”
The order sparked defiance in Wendy, but the part of her that flared to life was too far down. The spark died as suddenly as it had appeared, and Wendy moved to the bed. She slipped under the covers and felt Matthew follow behind her. He grabbed her and pulled her in close.
His velvety voice whispered directly into her ear, “You’re going to be a wonderful plaything this weekend. Isn’t that right?”
The last bastion of awareness fell away at the question. Wendy had no idea if she answered him, but a part of her knew there was only one thing she could say to that question.
Francine Helps Her Doctor With a Project
"Why don't you tell her all about it, Frankie?" Doctor Weston asked, and even though it was difficult to tear her attention away from the slick, dripping cunt in front of her Francine at least managed to take in enough of her doctor's words to obey the instruction. Her lips parted, and even though Francine's jaw momentarily went slack and her tongue briefly lolled out in an unthinking attempt to please the pussy of the squirming, glassy-eyed blonde she was kneeling for she nonetheless managed to babble out a stream-of-consciousness ramble about her favorite topic and her most cherished belief while Doctor Weston groped and fondled the receptionist sitting naked next to her.
"It feels so good to be hypnotized, Cherie," Francine heard herself gabble, her voice slurred and sleepy and unable to filter out even a single thought from her rambling flow of speech. "It makes me so wet to be weak and horny, it turns me on so much to be a slutty helpless pussy pleaser. I told Doctor Weston all about it, all about how much it makes my cunt throb and ache and drool to be a pushover for hypnosis and--and how to do it to other girls, and she's been… nnnnh… she's been practicing on me. Putting me into trance again and again, telling me to fight it and then figuring out how to hypnotize me anyway. Just like…." Francine swallowed hard, not out of any swell of emotion but because her mouth was watering so much it was difficult to speak. "Just like she did with you."
Cherie let out a tiny whimper at Francine's words, but the kneeling woman didn't know whether it was a last gasp of impotent resistance leaving her body or a mewl of desperate anticipation for her final fall into obedience. Either seemed just as likely--Doctor Weston had dropped them both at the same time, using her demonstration of Francine's susceptibility to hypnosis to ensnare Cherie's unsuspecting mind, and by this point the blonde receptionist was so wet and needy that the promise of getting her pussy licked was like an anchor on her mind. Try as she might to fight it, she couldn't ignore Francine's lips just inches away from her cunt, and the desire to be eaten out was gradually eroding her willpower until it was finally ready to vanish altogether.
And Francine had no willpower right now, waiting only for permission to seal her mouth against Cherie's cunt and drive her to new heights of pleasure. "You're going to love it so much when you give up and let me eat your pussy, Cherie, I'm so good at it and you'll be so happy Doctor Weston broke your brain and made you a pushover like me. I'm gonna suck on your clit until you can't think of anything else, and Doctor Weston's going to tell you how to be a good girl while you cum, and you're just… f-fuck, you're going to be so good against my tongue…." Francine probably wouldn't have been this enthusiastic to help Cherie see the virtues of mindless obedience if she was awake. But if she was awake, she would already have forgotten all of this.
Cherie finally gasped out, "yes, please, I don't want to think anymore," and by then she was such a mess that Francine's chin was immediately smeared with the musk of her arousal when she leaned in to lick. She felt Cherie's fingers knotting themselves in her hair, pulling her close and holding her face directly against the blonde's labia, and when Doctor Weston began to speak to them both Francine found that she was too busy licking to think about what she was hearing. But she knew she was being a good girl, and that was all that mattered.
(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)
i just wanna plan a day to sit in a hotel room with the door unlocked, brainwashing in my headphones, spiral and flashing lights on the tv, and whoever knows about it can come in and play with my mindless obedient toy body and then leave when they're done. just a toy. just to be played with.
Lmao I’m so fucking stupid.
-I don’t fully like bimbofication because I think it’s important to have a sense of individuality.
-holy fuck dronification is so hot I want my mind erased I want all of my individuality erased and reduced to a rubber toy

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i like sleeper agents but i like a very specific flavor. i dont usually like more robotic hypnosis, i like dopey sleepy stupid hypnosis. so im not As into sleeper agents getting activated and going rigid and robotic as they carry out their duty. but i Love it when they're activated and they just slump with a blissful little sigh as it settles over them, like a heavy blanket smothering away anything that isnt their new special job. clearly too out of it to remember what they're doing after the fact, practically asleep as they happily carry out their orders and then obediently return to their starting position to wake back up. thats cute
A collection of spirals I like for gits and shiggles
sppoiralsss
Received a new Snapchat chat from Sir.
My cunt throbbed and I knew she was going to take control again.
He simply said ‘Hump’ and my brain broke. I don’t even remember what excuse I made to leave the table at dinner but I’m couldn’t care less. The second I closed the stall door my tongue fell out as my mouth opened and I snapped this pic to show Him I was ready to obey.
He replied ‘Start’
I set my phone up so I could be fully seen. My tits were already out, nipples stiff, and I was to keep my shorts and panties on. Sir likes my soaked panties.
He FaceTimed. And I began humping his chosen item. Today it was his boot.
My tongue was still out, I didn’t hear two girls come in and enter stalls nearby, and my eyes couldn’t leave his.
My cunt curled and pulsed with sinful pleasure that wrecked my brain. Sir was all I could see. All my cunt needed. To be used.
I started to get close and began groping my tits. My nipples always my weak spot. The pleasure roared to my ears but I never stopped staring into his eyes.
Hump. Drool. Pleasure. Obey. Edge. Obey. Edge.
This words swirled around until I heard a snap. My body froze. My breath caught. My brain went dark and my eyes briefly closed. They opened and I began to clean up.
“Good pet. Go back like nothing happened, but those panties are mine.” He told me before handing up.
I slipped my soaked panties in my purse, wiggled back into my damp shorts, adjusted my tank top, and walked to wash my hands. An old lady was drying hers and I knew she heard his command. My pussy throbbed and I bit my lip. I had to go back. I can play again. Not yet. Mm I was feeling so deliciously needy and horny and I was savoring it.
I walked back to my friends at our table but not before slipping my panties to the bartender.
This is too pretty
Attack of the Hypno-Zombie
The hypno-zombie has risen and she's hungry!

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An excerpt from today's Slut School Pop Quiz.
Mindy's Special Cushion
There was a bright red cushion resting on the floor when they got to Jay's apartment, over by the far wall right where the hallway into the bedrooms started, and the moment she saw it Mindy couldn't take her eyes off it. She knew exactly what it meant, she could feel the pull of it on her suggestible brain the same way true north called to a migrating bird, and even though she managed to carry on a few halting conversations with Jay and his friends her gaze kept darting over to it as she lost her train of thought and wound up staring blankly into space with her lips parted into a wide, accommodating O.
Because she knew what that cushion meant, both to her and the collection of mostly male friends Jay had invited over for the night's festivities. A red cushion meant that the evening was going to get more and more debauched as it went on, with sex very much on the menu when it came to the group's range of activities, and Mindy… god, Mindy had been fucking programmed. She'd been hypnotized and brainwashed, and even though she not only knew it but actively and enthusiastically consented to it she always felt a little bit different about her knowledge when she felt it actively tugging on her mind like this. Mindy was going to wind up kneeling naked on that cushion, probably before the first hour was out, and from there her role in Jay's social circle was going to change fairly drastically.
The others all knew it, too. The men, the women, everyone on the spectrum in between, they all gave Mindy amused and knowing glances every time her eyes glazed over or she caught herself drooling down the front of her blouse. They'd all been to Jay's parties before, they'd all watched as the post-hypnotic suggestions lurking in Mindy's brain persuaded her to divest herself of her clothing one article at a time until she was totally nude… and once Mindy was naked, the pull of that bright red cushion intensified until she found her feet moving her in that direction without any conscious intention on her part. And once she was standing over it, Mindy always wound up thinking just how relaxing it would be to sink to her knees and stop thinking for a while.
From there, it was just a question of who would skullfuck Mindy first. It didn't always happen right away; yes, Jay's parties usually devolved into orgies by the end of the evening, but they weren't just about sex and often people were having too much fun just talking to simply launch right into the decadent lechery portion of the festivities. But the sight of Mindy kneeling there, staring sightlessly into the distance with her pert pale breasts waiting to be groped and her vacant mouth equally ready to be plowed, always enticed someone into holding her head in their hands and filling up that hole with a hard cock. And once the first blowjob happened, others swiftly followed. Jay was always around to check in with her, make sure she was doing okay, but apart from that Mindy's memories quickly devolved into one stiff prick after another for pretty much the rest of the night.
It left her in no condition to drive--one of her many, many post-hypnotic suggestions made the act of fellatio into an orgasmic high for her-- thankfully, though, Jay had a spare bedroom for that exact purpose, and she usually wound up cuddled with a few others who'd indulged too much in one pleasure or another and needed to crash for the night. The extra company made it difficult to extricate herself the next morning without a little more sex and submission… but that was hardly a problem for Mindy and she usually enjoyed the second day of being used even more than the first.
(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)
As much fun as training an active behavior is, a lot of the time it just feels to me like practicing communication with extra steps. It is fun when someone doesn't realize what they're doing. Like, training your pet to sit in your lap when you pat it is fun, training your pet to walk over to you or lean in when you make the right motion works wonders, or like training your pet to start following your hand when you snap in front of its face is hot as hell.
But personally, I feel like training someone not to do something is just hotter. Consider, like, training someone not to speak in words when your hands are on them. Ideally without them even noticing it. Give or take setting up the nonverbal safeword first. Training someone to freeze when you make the right motion so you can inspect them. Training someone not to try to pull away from your grip or break a hold.
I find the anxiety of it is dangerously attractive to me. Watching my toy sit there not entirely knowing why they're doing what they're doing but knowing that they're supposed to be doing this. The confused stares and fidgeting. Biting their lip and staring expectantly. Sometimes I'll point it out after, but sometimes they stop doing it when you tell them. It's just delicious to my sadism, an obedient toy staring up at me asking for permission with desperation in its eyes? All I ever want.
Imagining parading around a hypno sub, their mind so blanked they are unable to walk by themselves and just follow you around. Perhaps their eyes are crossed, mouth drooling. Perhaps you have them walking like a zombie behind you, eyes wide open with nothing behind them
Imagine bringing them to a con with other hypnotists and their subs. Instead of a "trophy husband/wife", where a partner is paraded around to show off their looks, we have a "trophy sub", where a sub is paraded around to show off how deep in trance they are, and how eager they are to serve their dom

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Suzi's Own Enthusiasm Gives Her Pause
It's when Suzi's hands go behind her back that she realizes just how deeply she must have been conditioned by the man from the coffee shop--it was one thing to find herself wandering into a hotel room she didn't remember checking into, tugging off her skirt and panties and pulling her tight turtleneck shirt all the way up to her collarbone to expose her tits before lying on the bed with her face against the mattress and her ass offered in expectation, and quite another to deliberately and intentionally offer her wrists as a convenient handle to the man fucking her up the ass right now. Something in Suzi's mind wants her to be more helpless, craves to be grabbed and manhandled and used like a blow-up doll by someone she barely even recognizes, and the surge of pleasure she feels in her leaky cunt tells her she already lost to it long ago.
Not that she remembers being hypnotized, or programmed, or brainwashed--but Suzi's a smart woman, even if she looks like a bleach-blonde, big-titted slut with a broad pale ass that absolutely invites anal penetration. She knows that her behavior isn't natural, that it doesn't make sense in any kind of world where she's in control of her own actions, and she manages to deduce that all her submissive behavior has to be the result of some kind of deep and indelible external force acting on her conscious mind. And the fact that her pussy literally drools onto the mattress every time she thinks about being conditioned to obey tells her that she's fully and completely succumbed to that power.
Suzi very much wants a glorified stranger to walk into the room, not even bothering to greet her, and stick his lubed-up cock into her tight and hungry asshole. She wants to be an anal-only slut, something that always seems so natural whenever she's using a dildo up her butt to make herself cum and so utterly absurd in the moments after her climax before she forgets entirely what it was that got her off. She can't wait to feel this man's semen leaking out of her ass while she goes into the hotel bathroom and cleans herself up, and she can't wait to let this entire encounter slip out of her head and leave her blissfully untroubled by the soreness in her backside she's going to feel the rest of the day. Whoever did this, they've gotten to Suzi so deeply that she craves her own degradation and that excites her instead of frightening her.
It vaguely occurs to Suzi that she already knows it's not the man from the coffee shop who accomplished this spectacular feat of brainwashing; she doesn't have any idea who's actually responsible, that knowledge is hidden from her on a deeper layer of her conditioning that she can't access even during these brief periods where she recognizes the oddity of her own behavior, but it never even occurred to her to suspect him. He's just a beneficiary of her anal-only training, one of the many men who gets to trigger her and follow her to this hotel room and enjoy plowing her needy asshole while she begs him to fuck her the only way she can still want to be fucked, and he may not even know exactly who did the hard work of turning her into his slut. Suzi may never find that out… and she gets a thrill of ecstasy on realizing that if she ever did meet the people who did this to her, she'd probably thank them.
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Brainwashing people, and MAINTAINING that brainwashing over a long period of time, is hard work.
That's why so many people who style themselves as some kind of epic hypno villain are, in fact, simply absurd caricatures of incompetent disney villains.
You have to not only put in the work, you have to dedicate yourself to it.
It is somehow a combination of long term project management, a curiously attentive entemology of a peculiar organism, and bonsai pruning... but sexual
Hear hear. So many *think* they want a brainwashed devotee, but when the rubber hits the road, they half-ass it. They cut corners, they slack off. They fail to really pound in that conditioning, triple strong. That's how things go south. "Remember who you are!! Remember, we're your friends who care about you!!" and they suddenly wake up from the spell? Couldn't be my thrall.