I Am Batman

I dont make the rules

buuuttt also.....like....anyone wanna make me super weak and suggestible to the sounds of waves, or just drop at the sound of a seagull?

"I… I should fight it," Heather murmured to herself, pushing the princess plug past the tight ring of her anus until it settled neatly into her asshole. "I should resist. But now my mind just--" She broke off, realizing that she was once again slipping into one of the many mantras she'd spent most of the afternoon listening to and it was neatly overwriting the thought she was trying to think for herself. And even though that was hot, and even though it was even hotter to see herself on all fours in front of her mirrored closet door with her drippy cunt and plugged ass fully on display, it did represent a huge jump in her journey into submission and she needed to take some time to think about what she was doing and where she was headed.

And all that concern was about as useful as a paper umbrella when it came to holding back the words pressing against her lips. "--won't exist," she muttered, feeling a surge of heat between her legs and actually seeing her cunt twitch ever so slightly to reward Heather for degrading herself. She wished she had a dildo she could be squatting on right now, a big thick one to make her feel extra small and vulnerable, and that desire came as a shock to her but it didn't stop the craving from intensifying. God, just seeing her own body in the mirror made it look like her whole purpose in existence was to be fucked and used.

Which brought another mantra to mind, and this time Heather was too weak even to hesitate in repeating it. "G-getting dumber," she grunted, her voice hoarse with arousal, "mind on lock, all I am is holes for cock." It was even hotter to say it in front of a mirror, she discovered; she'd been chanting along with the files for most of her masturbation session, stoned and horny and staring at her favorite spirals, and that had been hot as fuck but it was nothing compared to seeing herself reduced to a needy, whimpering fucktoy. Heather began to wonder if she shouldn't record all this, just in case one of her favorite hypnotists wanted to see what his brainwashing was doing to her.

When she reached over for her phone, though, it was already recording, and realizing that she'd already given in to a conditioned impulse and forgotten made Heather's pussy ache so bad she just had to rub it. "I wanna be strokebait," she moaned, "I w-wanna be porn, I want to trance and be reborn…." Her fingers slid freely through the musky channel between her labia, and already Heather knew this was going to be her favorite masturbation pose from now on--she was going to get down on all fours, plug her ass and sit on a dildo, and listen to files through her earbuds until she pictured herself as nothing but a vapid, horny toy for some stranger's amusement. And then--

Heather could feel it taking shape in her own mind, and the best part about it all was that she wasn't even sure if it was her own fantasy or something that was impressed into her subconscious through hours of hypnosis. But she knew what she had to do. She had to contact the hypnotists she liked, tell them she'd been jilling off to their files and it was making her dumber and weaker and wetter every day and she--she-- "I need to be mindless, I need to be owned," she heard herself gasp out. "My slutty cunt needs to be boned." That was when she reached her first edge… but like a good girl, Heather was careful to pull her hand away before it went any further.

Staring off into, well, who knows really? They can't tell what it is anymore.

They're just so docile. Empty. Unthinking. Gone.

Eyes so glassy. Dazed.

1) Figured this out.