#dumbing

The Dream of Leo

Leo was an impressive guy in every way except the one that seemed to matter most. He had a brilliant mind, perfect manners, and impeccable appearance. He always earned the highest grades in high school and now at university, but physically he went unnoticed: skinny, average height (actually a little below average), shy, and constantly dreaming of being popular—of having a bigger, more muscular body.

One night, while scrolling through obscure forums, he stumbled upon mentions of a mysterious Tumblr user who supposedly had the power to transform lives. When Leo finally found the blog, he didn’t hesitate. He opened the ask box and wrote:

“I’m not a big guy, but I’d like to be.”

One might hear that and assume it an innocuous wish. Coach wouldn’t fault anyone for thinking that way.

But he knew better. Coach had heard plenty of guys make offhand comments like Ben’s in his time, and there was always, always something more to it. There was a voraciousness bubbling just beneath Ben’s words, Coach knew, starved and desperate to be indulged in.

Though Ben hadn’t started T, nor had he ever played American football, Coach had an idea. Coach sent Ben an email, and the two had met in the man’s office before the week was out.

“You wanted to talk to me, Coach? What about?”

“I’d like you to watch a little video for me, Ben. It’s something I had my boys help me put together, for an extracurricular I’m wanting to teach in the coming semesters. It’s something I think you’d be interested in, boy.”

Ben made a movement at the word “boy.”

Coach, acting quickly, handed Ben a set of wired headphones, already connected to a laptop, and pulled up his video. Once Coach’s boy-to-be had slipped the headphones on, Coach set the video playing.

The video started out mundane enough. It featured Coach, flanked by two guys from the football team—both in full gear—explaining trends about the college’s sports programs. How the good win-loss ratio of the football team had become since Coach took over; how high-quality the uniform pieces were; stuff like that. Ben thought he heard… something in the stock music playing over everything, but he didn’t think about it too hard. Why should he?

The video continued in this way for a few more minutes. Ben was surprisingly engaged. Passionate. Swelling with a sense of pride for his school that he had not really felt before.

Coach smirked. The moment of truth.

A brilliant spiral flared into being and devoured the screen in moments. The whispering overtook the music, and Ben was blasted with picture after picture of shirtless, sweating jocks.

Jocks get touchdowns.

Jocks live in the gym.

Jocks lift weights.

Jocks get big.

Ben jerked back, but he failed to rip his eyes away from the flashing screen. Even still, he tried to get up, but he was held in his chair. The two jocks who’d appeared in the video were at his side—Ben hadn’t even noticed them come in.

Ben, struggling and straining, kept watching the video. Watching the jocks. The big…sweaty…muscled jocks.

Jocks get touchdowns.

Jocks live in the gym.

Jocks lift weights.

Jocks get big.

Ben kept fighting.

Jocks live in the gym.

Jocks lift weights.

Jocks get big.

Ben kept trying.

Jocks lift weights.

Jocks get big.

He stopped trying.

Jocks get big.

He was wet now.

So wet.

Ben felt the jock on his left move his arm. Ben let his arm be moved.

Jocks get big.

“Hold still, son.”

So wet.

There was a prick. A plunging.

Jocks get big.

Something was wrapped tight where the prick was.

So wet.

He liked it tight.

Jocks get so big.

It felt good.

Jocks get so wet.

It all felt so good.

Jocks get so wet.

Jocks get so wet and get so big and so tight. Being wet and tight meant that Ben was a good jock. Coach wanted him to be a good jock. A big good jock. Coach wanted him to be wet.

The video ended.

“What d’you think?”

Ben didn’t think anything. But he felt something.

“…I… loved it…”

“Good boy.”

did this one for national donkey day, and because i wanted to to do smth evil to my partner

You all know the app beardify, but I think something is wrong with my version cause this beard ain’t coming off. In fact the app seems to have not just given me facial hair but a whole new body to fit with it. Ma beard is too powerful- oh it’s a changin’ me too much! Must Resi.... 

Short answer: yes to the professional/dumb duality, and "if you wanna" to the Sir thing, but I can tell you do want to.

Longer answer: It's early and I haven't been up long, so be warned this isn't going to be the most eloquent response in the world. Howeverrr. To make things easy, my stance is that the risks of 'dumbing' in hypnosis are hugely overblown by subs (including myself once upon a time) and represent a misunderstanding of how causing such an effect could actually be done. To be perfectly honest, if all the depth a hypnotist gives their dumbing is to put you in a trance and tell you over and over again that you're an idiot or that you love making mistakes, etc etc, you have nothing to fear from that kind of suggestion ruining your life. Are there files which represent a potentially dangerous level of dumbing? Sure. I'd probably shout out Vive's dumbing conditioning series as an example of that, where I believe that file system's engine really could have a lot of knock-on effects outside of trance.

But generally speaking, when tists like me or most other muscle/jock/himbo tf boys talk about dumbing, it's either done in so abstract a sense that it's up to the sub to decide what dumb actually means to them, or it's explicitly clarified to be more about becoming laid back, not giving a shit, etc. than it is actually 'losing intelligence' or something.

And to be honest, even that concept is so vague it's hard to make firm statements on - what does 'losing intelligence' mean, in a specific sense? Does it mean flubbing your words, changing your hobbies, losing the power to count past ten...? Everyone's going to have a different answer. But for my money, I believe THAT kind of dumbing to be the more unattainable kind. It can be achieved by hypnotic conditioning, but conditioning always fades with time, and the level of work required to keep someone in that state is just too much. (Sleepingirl's "The Brainwashing Book" covers a lot of this in more detail.)

SO.

All this is to say that in my dichotomy, the question isn't "can you be a drooling moron for half the day and a regular, competent person the other half?" Instead, it's more "can you be dumber, codeword less in your head and less inhibited by shame and higher thought, in specific circumstances and retain your normal self-awareness in others?" And the answer to that one is definitely yes. I'm not going to dig into how that'd be done right now because I've written enough and that wasn't your question, but hopefully this answered... something.

Basically man, you can do what you want. The only limits with this kinda thing, beyond common sense ones, are the ones you imagine for yourself. I mean, if nothing else, hypnotic triggers exist and can be very effective; why shouldn't you be able use some to be dumb sometimes and not at others?

“Whoa fuck bro I’m getting huge!” Mark grinned. His body swelled with muscle as he pulled the red muscle-speedo up his legs, his chest thickening with strength and dark hair grew across his formerly scrawny body.

“You look great,” I said. "How’s it feel?”

“Fucking awesome,” he said, flexing his new larger arms. He looked concerned for a moment. “But ... my head is, like ... I feel kinda foggy,” he said. “Is that normal?”

“It’ll pass,” I said. “In a few seconds you won’t remember that you used to be smart.”

“Whaddya mean, used to?” He scratched his head. “Ain’t I still ... uh ... what’s happening to me, bro?”

“The muscle-speedo’s using your old brainpower to build up your muscles,” I said. “Go ahead and flex for me again.”

He obeyed, grinning as he stared at his reflection, muscles growing even larger.

“Fuuuuck, I’m gettin’ huge dude,” he mumbled, rubbing his thick body. “Aw man. Bein’ hot is so much better than bein’ smart.”