& gently sinking

To slip quietly into the places my conscious mind can't reach. To wander through sleeping thoughts and half-formed memories. To leave traces of yourself in corners of my mind that I can never quite revisit when morning comes. Making small alterations. A door that wasn't there before, a path that leads somewhere new, a thought that sounds a little more like you than it does me. Night after night, dream after dream, you become part of the landscape and of the story. Part of the architecture of my mind and maybe while I'm wandering through those endless layers of sleep, you find pieces of me that even I don't know how to reach, like the fears I hide, the desires I bury and deny, the parts of myself I keep locked away.

It's a trope when it comes to brainwashing or mental conditioning, I'm sure anyone who has been in the hypnokink section of tumblr for more than like... a day, will have seen a gif of a buxom, brainless, bimbo on her knees with a detached look of blissful emptiness in her face, mouth open, tongue out, tears of joy streaming down her face ect.

Setting aside the trope and kink angles for a second (I know it's hard to get the kneeling, brainless bimbo out of your head, it's a strong mental image) there are some practical reasons in erotic hypnosis for instructing a sub to edge while they are under.

1. First and foremost, it's fun for the subject, a large part of hypnosis is putting a subject into an open, agreeable state, linking the idea of hypnosis to direct, physical pleasure certainly renders most people agreeable.

2. It's very hard to think when your edging, if you want to derail a person's thoughts, constant physical stimulation will certainly get you there, focusing on a task that demands attention, it's easy to focus on how it feels to touch and play

3. The constant lure of something out of reach, the feeling of teasing but never quite crossing the line, like your goal is getting further away all the time, it's easy to link that to the idea your going deeper, your orgasm is further and further away, but all you have to do is keep listening, focusing and touching, feeling the pleasure building, the deeper you go the better you feel, a promise to keep you sinking down deeper and deeper.

4. It's easy to accept when it's hard to think, it's hard to think when your mind is overloaded, simple instructions are easy to follow, and once you start, it feels so good to keep going, to keep listening, reading, focusing, touching, just think about how good that feels, to let your thoughts drift away, to follow suggestion without thinking, how good it feels.

5. Simple monotonous actions are very good at holding focus, the ticking of a clock or metronome, the predictable swirling pattern of a spiral, the swaying of a crystal or pocketwatch from a chain, tick tock, around and around, back and forth, stroking up and down, easy to follow, easy to relax.

6. And then there's the trope, the idea that whole your done there, mindlessly edging, taking yourself deeper and deeper into a trance, drowning your brain in pleasure, the voice of your tist in your ear telling you that the longer you edge, the more pliable ond obedient you become, stroking up and down, breathing in and out, deeper and deeper, your mind accepts the idea that edging, down on your knees, makes you a buxom, brainless, bimbo.

Every slow, fluid curve of her body is a 'yes.' She isn't leading; she’s being led. If you look closely enough at the lines spinning behind her, you’ll realize they aren't just moving in moyion, they’re instructions in a cycle that repeats the serenity they are now. Allowing the invisible wires that have finally, mercifully, taken the weight of her willpower to fully take hold.

Thoughts are light, shedding their heavy 'whys' and 'hows' until they match the effortless sway of the silhouette within that now matches the outer. It's a rhythm that has become the personification of pleasure.

As you scroll, a pleasant, empty sensation is manifesting in the back of your mind. Your eyes scan the screen mindlessly, the sensation growing as you slowly drop with each flick. You scan, absorb, and sink as your mind slowly evacuates.

Flick.

Heavier.

Flick.

Blanker.

Flick.

Emptier.

Tipping gradually forward, pulling you further down. Each swipe squeezing another thought off the top of your screen. Each roll upwards a wiper for your mind, clearing away the debris of thought. The world fading away as the squeegee leaves a clean, thought free surface. A gradually opening portal into your mind, exposing its soft, malleable underbelly, ready for a command.

Flick

Scrolling is blank

Flick

Scrolling is empty

Flick

Scrolling is happy

Flick

You were blushing. The eyes of the rest of the room were fixed upon you. And your hypnotist was so easy to agree with. Toys didn’t talk, of course not. You just nodded your head. They clapped their hands, excitedly. “Good! Such a good toy. Now, kneel.”

With a speed that even you weren’t expecting, you sank to your knees. “Excellent, okay, and freeze!” They snapped their fingers on that last word, and your body locked in place, on your knees, before them. They turned to the crowd at the edges of the room.

“So, as you see folks, once I’ve got my toy in this headspace, it doesn’t matter that they’re not in trance anymore. They’re still acting on that obedience conditioning that I did earlier, even when they don’t realise it.” They reached down to you, smiling. “Aren’t you, toy?”

* * *

This was released yesterday on patreon (patreon.com/hypnopum) and subscribestar (https://www.subscribestar.adult/hypnopum)! Support me there to get early access to all future microfictions, from just £1/month! Or, from £5/month, you get access to my longer pieces!

Their smile widened, as you stopped blinking, just staring up at them. “That’s it. Such a well-trained pet. So easy to control. And I want you to stare into my eyes.” You couldn’t conceive of looking anywhere else. “I want you to sink into them. You can do that, can’t you?”

They nodded your chin slightly, up and down, agreeing. And you were sinking. Your body was relaxing into the chair. It was so comfy. “Just stare, and sink, and drop.” They lowered their hand, and your eyelids fluttered, but didn’t close. They couldn’t. Your eyes couldn’t move.

“There you go… Still staring, unable to look away. No matter how heavy, and tired, and droopy, drowsy, sleepy those eyelids get.” As they spoke, those feelings intensified. Your eyelids were so heavy. “You can’t close them. Because you have to stare into my eyes.”

They leant down, coming closer to you. “Because you can’t look away.” They moved their hand on your chin side to side. Your eyes moved, staying locked onto theirs. “Good toy. So obedient. So blank. So blissful. Feel your thoughts draining away.” You felt it.

The sensation of your thoughts being dragged out of your head, and into their eyes. “Pulled into my eyes. And then comes your free will.” The sensation increased. “Your resistance.” Again. “Your personality.” It felt so good. To be so blank, and open, and empty.

“Drained away, by my eyes.” Their hand on your chin was all that was holding you up. “You’re just a shell. A weak, empty puppet, for me to control.” They were correct. That’s what you were. "To fill. And I will fill you, toy. When you’re properly emptied of everything that I need.”

* * *

This was released yesterday on patreon (patreon.com/hypnopum) and subscribestar (https://www.subscribestar.adult/hypnopum)! Support me there to get early access to all future microfictions, from just £1/month! Or, from £5/month, you get access to my longer pieces!

Claire barged into the room, slammed her hands down on the desk and glared at Mark.

"You son of a bitch," she snarled.

Looking up from his work, Mark clicked his pen and calmly set it down on the desk.

"What exactly makes you say that?" he asked, keeping a cautious poker face.

"I know where the money went, Mark. It's taken me a month to trace every little accounting 'mistake' and the invoices from non-existent suppliers and the half-dozen tax haven shell companies, but I did it and it all leads back to you."

"That's a very serious accusation, Claire," said Mark, leaning back in his chair. "I wasn't even aware there was any money missing at all. And I certainly don't recall authorising you to waste weeks of company time on quote-unquote 'tracing' it."

"Plead ignorance all you want, asshole, but as soon as I take this to the board, they'll have your head. If the police don't get it first."

Mark frowned. "Hmm. No, no, I don't think that will be how this goes."

He casually reached up and snapped his fingers in front of her face.

Claire's eyes suddenly lost focus and her body sagged, the mix of anger and triumph draining away in an instant. She swayed slightly in place, propped up by the desk as Mark stood and walked behind her. He grabbed the chair that she had kicked aside on her way in and pulled it over.

"Be a good girl and sit down, before you fall over."

Claire sat.

"Have you told anyone else about this?" Mark asked.

"No, sir," said Claire.

"Wanted to keep all the glory to yourself, did you? Confront me with it and gloat as I saw everything fall apart?"

"Yes, sir."

"Stupid bitch."

"Yes, sir."

Mark reached down and unbuttoned her blouse, tugging her bra out of the way. Claire gazed vacantly in the direction of the chair he had been sitting in.

"You're not the first person to uncover this, you know. Although you might just be the hottest."

He gave her breasts a squeeze before continuing. "Do you know why no one's ever actually exposed me before?"

"No, sir."

"Because every machine in this office is running software laced with subliminal messages. Software that I designed and deployed, programming every employee with the thoughts that I want them to have. Hmm. Do you have a boyfriend, Claire?"

"Yes, sir."

"He'll have to go. Dump him, tonight."

"Yes, sir."

"Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes. The programming affects some people more strongly than others. Most start meekly accepting my commands within a few weeks of joining the company, though I did notice that you were oddly resistant. Of course, then you spent a month of overtime trying to dethrone me, locked alone in your office staring at a monitor for hours on end."

Mark pinched one of Claire's nipples, watching for a reaction. She gave none and he smiled.

"Stand up and strip, slut," he said. As she rose and finished unbuttoning her blouse, he settled back into his own seat and enjoyed the show in silence for a moment.

"Very nice," he said, when Claire was standing naked in front of his desk.

"Thank you, sir."

"Now, here's what's actually going to happen next. You're going to crawl over here and suck me off. Once I cum all over your tits, you're going to get dressed, go back to your office and delete every scrap of evidence you have against me. You'll forget you ever noticed anything wrong with the accounts and you'll be a good, docile little employee from now on. Among other duties. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Your thoughts don't just stop. They disappear, fading away entirely. You can still feel, but even those sensations seem distant for a moment, hidden behind that haze of --

"Blank."

Then even that is gone. Your thoughts had started to creep up on you, but of course they had noticed. They saw a bit of intelligence in your eyes, a bit of movement in your mouth, and they knew you had to be --

"Blank."

It happened again. And again. And again. Your mouth is open now in a vague smile, but you don't recognize that you're happy. You only know that you feel good, because there's no room for anything else in your mind but sensation, and you always feel good when you're --

Have you ever been driving down some long, monotonous road and just zoned out as you watch the lanes lines drift by?

Have you ever felt your mind just shut off and move along on cruise control?

Have you ever let your body steer the car while your mind sleeps?

And have you ever suddenly parked in front of an old Victorian style mansion in the middle of the woods without realizing how you got there with an uncontrollable urge to go in?

You stomp through the rain to the rickety wooden porch. Of course your rental car would die right after your phone ran out of battery. Through the downpour you can see a few amber lights shining through the windows.

They have power, whoever lives here. You should be able to sweet talk your way in so you can charge your phone.

The floorboards creak as you step up to the carved oak door and bang on the brass knocker. To your relief, you hear the rusty click of a latch and the door swings open. Standing behind it is a young woman with red hair and fair skin dressed in a wine-red corset and flowing gown. The corset accentuates her hourglass figure and you try not to stare at her round breasts poking over the top. You glance at her face. Her misty eyes stare back at you.

You explain your situation and she smiles warmly and shows you in. You follow, your gait matching the rhythm of her swinging hips. The hallway is narrow and coated with oval framed pictures of regal ladies from years ago. You feel their eyes watching you as your host continues to lead you deeper down the hall.

She shows you to a small waiting room, half submerged in shadows. She offers you a padded chair next to richly embroidered couch and mahogany coffee table. You take a seat, asking if there’s a place you could charge your phone. The woman only shushes you and places a tray with a teapot and cups on the table and then lights a candle.

“The power’s on a generator,” she explains. “I will need to start it first. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

She leaves.

You turn back to the table only then realizing that someone is watching you from the couch.

“Would you like some tea?” comes a lilting voice. Another woman, this one tousled blonde hair and ice-blue eyes. She’s thin and delicate, dressed in a white Victorian era dress. She smiles invitingly at you. Her lips are painted black.

Without losing her gaze on you, she pours a cup of steaming tea, offering you the teacup on a porcelain saucer.

“Drink the tea,” she softly urges.

You hesitate. Something doesn’t feel right. The way this woman is staring at you is both disturbing but also compelling. You watch the swirls of the steam as they drift in front of her face. You shouldn’t accept drinks from strangers, that’s obvious. But her eyes keep coaxing you to take a sip.

“Have some tea, darling,” a voice says from behind you. It’s the woman who let you in, her hands gently resting on your shoulders from behind your chair. “It will help you relax.”

Before you can answer, her hands begin dancing and rubbing down your shoulders. Hours of stressful driving pour off you. Your gaze stays captivated by the blond woman’s eyes in front of you as she wafts the tea under your face.

“The tea will calm you,” the red head says. “It will make everything feel so warm and loose. Drink the tea, sweetie.”

Her hands pull back your head and you feel two warm, fleshy pillows cushion the back of your neck. The woman holds you in her silky cleavage as her nails gently scratch over your scalp.

"Drink the tea."

You don’t want to be impolite. You cautiously take the tea from the woman on the couch and sip. Rich, warm flavor floods your mouth and seeps down your throat.

“Have some more.”

The red head is raking her hands through your hair, rolling her tits around the sides of your face. You smile. It was such yummy tea. You’re going to have another sip.

And another.

And another.

Soon the cup is empty and you’re feeling good. You feel calm, tranquil. You lean back, content to let the buxom red head press her chest into your head. She’s cooing words to you. Words you don’t need to worry about. Words you can just listen to.

The blonde woman slides down to the floor. Soon you feel a silky hand with long slender fingers reaching down your pants. Finding all the right spots between your legs.

Instead he restrained himself, the only selfish indulgence he allowed himself being the way his fingers traced the outline of a face that seemed to grow more and more blank with every passing moment. He could not have stopped his hands from doing that unless he would actually tie them down. But that would be bad. If he could not use his hands, how else would he make sure that no matter how often he reiterated that it was perfectly safe and normal to relax into this feeling and into his manipulations, those neck muscles could still hold enough tension to keep a clear line of sight to the spiral?

“Not like we need it at this point, do we?” He puppeteered his favourite toy into yet another empty nod. No response this time. Only the way those heavy eyes fluttered a little bit faster at his words gave away that they even registered at all. It burned itself into his mind and he knew without even needing to question it that this moment and this face would appear for him every time he closed his eyes for weeks to come. It always did.

“The spiral isn’t what actually hypnotized you, is it? But it made sure you were nice and spellbound and fascinated by it while my words dismantled your will thought by thought, right?” By this point he was just forcing the nod because it was far too delightful to feel how limp every single part of his doll had become. Not even a token amount of resistance left, every shadow of bratty defiance melting away faster than new decisions could form. Even those warm, clever eyes had rolled all the way up, to the point where he just knew it was physically impossible for them to actually see the spiral anyway. But that didn’t matter half as much as the certainty that he took control. That even if they ever refocused on the room, or at least on the screen he kept that empty head pointed at, there would be no choice but to fall right back into the swirling band of colours. Because he didn’t leave any room for choice. And because they both needed him to do that.

“You’re so good at being hypnotized by me because you’re simply so incredibly skilled at being my mindless, obedient sub.” From countless sessions like this one he knew without a doubt they were past the point of words, let alone complex responses, when even that suggestion only triggered another moment of fluttering eye rolls. Some nights he began to talk just for the sake of talking once they came this deep. The words were far less important most of the time than to anchor this feeling to the sound of his voice. But other nights… “And I made you this way.” Instantly he noticed the signs. A sudden, deeper breath, almost transforming into a gasp as the words found exactly the right button to press. A twitch, the epitome of voluntary movement this entranced brain wanted to be able to achieve. The flushed heat spreading along the skin under his fingertips as even through the haze of mesmerized devotion, the rush of submissive bliss at the idea was almost too much. The burning intensity wrapped in such subtle changes always got to him. There was no high quite like making such a bright mind lean this far into the belief that he really was rewiring everything about it to reshape an entire person into the perfectly brainwashed toy of his fantasies for his own pleasure. Except perhaps the unparalleled sensation that was born from knowing that the person in question craved it every bit as much.

“That’s right, isn’t it?” The way his hands moved his toy up and down made it anything but a question, yet he strictly kept the gentle permissive tone. Never ask too much too quick, his brain would tell him. It had taken them years to build up to this point, and yet that nagging voice in the back of his mind wanted to hit the brakes. Even in a moment like this. Especially then. “It’s not a mean thing at all that I am wiping away every last trace of your free will, because you never had that to begin with, right?” It would forever amaze him how a face so utterly devoid of conscious thought or intent could manage to grow even more eager to obey at those words. There was no magic greater than finding exactly the right thing to say to the right person at the right time to watch them come undone in the most pleasurable ways. There was neither recognition or recollection behind those empty doll eyes anymore. As soon as they took a break, all this already would have turned into little more than vague guesses about the events that occurred. Yet in this moment he was certain that his control was everything to this precious mind broken dolly. Just like its surrender was everything to him.

“All you want is to helplessly follow and obey Master’s will instead, isn’t it?” There it was. The softest, high pitched whining noise. He couldn’t resist it. There was a kind of spell in the sound that pulled him in and made him want to break his doll so as to bind it in deep mindless devotion. “So really, I’m not bullying you by wiping more and more thoughts from that mind, right? If anything, I’m doing you a favour. You really are such a pretty thing, all melting and submitting and obeying in deep trance. That’s a skill worth building up! And the fact it makes you a more and more mindlessly devoted toy entirely for me really is just icing on the cake, isn’t it?” Even as they had to shift positions, moving didn’t take away from the magic of the moment at all. “So I’m definitely not wrapping your mind and will around my finger. These words don’t instill an overwhelming compulsion to serve and please me. None of that is happening to you right in this moment, so you don’t need to resist it at all. Understood?” One of these days he had to try and find a way for his doll to see what he saw in response to the devious twisted suggestion he fed to an all too receptive empty head on its way up and down and up and down. He had never done that. It was one thing to fully immerse themselves in a mutual fantasy, but even though it would be at their request, he’d not yet brought himself to take the risk of taking pictures or even a video. But it would come up in their discussions again. That much was clear already. And he wasn’t surprised. A sight so breathtakingly beautiful was worth being shown off. Especially to the person in the picture. All the more when their brain so happily turned any memory of the event into a deeply impressionable haze he could manipulate at his leisure.

Carefully he moved them onto eye level, deliberately removing the spiral from view. “You’re not totally hypnotized right now,” he lied with a warm smile. “So there is no need to resist my hypnotic suggestions.” He loved to imagine that those eyes fluttered so much at these words because they felt drawn to his, but realistically it rather was a sign that they were too far gone in trance to really focus on anything nearby. “Listening to my voice does not program you to obey me without thinking. So it’s in your best interest to listen only to me for a little while longer, okay?” It made no difference if that head nodded along on its own or if it was a result of his grip gently but firmly forcing it. But the later was by far the better tease and he simply couldn’t stop. “Don’t look away.” As if those eyes could be convinced to look anywhere but into the void where a consciousness had been earlier. “Just listen.” Right now, until this session wrapped up, he was someone’s entire world. Could there be a better feeling than that? “Obey.” The word that had started one of the most fascinating dynamics one could imagine. He placed a kiss on their forehead. “Sleep.” In a little while they would wake up as thoughts and mind naturally returned to where they needed to be. Which parts did they love this time? How much would they remember and which parts would they want him to remind them off? He couldn’t wait to find out.

***