I had just come back from a hard shift at work when I noticed my front door was unlocked and cracked open. I stepped inside and immediately noticed a tall, lean guy in a shiny tracksuit lounging on a chair in front of my TV. He played on my PlayStation casually, as if he owned the place. âWho are you?â I asked and received no response.
âGet out of my house before I call the police,â I threatened.
âShut up already,â he barked at me, which caused me to do so. I didnât know why, but I didnât want to shout at him anymore. I was just about to reach into my pocket to pull out my phone when he said, âDonât move. You donât want to move until I tell you to,â and I stopped. He was right. I didnât want to. I had never wanted to move until he told me to. It was weird for him to mention that fact now, though.
He finally turned away from the TV to face me. His gaze showed that he saw me as nothing but an inconvenience. âSince you want to yap your tongue so bad, go ahead and clean my kicks with them.â I hated this guy so much. Like hell, I was going to lick his disgusting shoes, yet my body disagreed. I could only internally panic as my body knelt in front of him, my mouth already opening up in anticipation. My anger turned to confusion, confused as to how he was manipulating me like this. I could only assume my discomfort was visible because of his following words.
âStop pretending like you donât like this. We both know how much you love being underneath me.â I didnât know why he needed to say that; obviously I liked being beneath him. I just hated how I was treated, like nothing more than an object. He didnât even look at me as he kicked off his sneakers with his feet, revealing a pair of sweat-stained white socks. âYouâre not a person, just my bitch. And my bitch loves everything about me. They know their place is breathing me, worshipping me, and finding my taste and smell irresistible. They want me to be in charge of their life, serving and pleasing me. They love my trackies, and they love me. Donât you agree, bitch?â
He describes me perfectly. I donât know why I was upset. He is everything. I am his bitch, and I deserve to be under him. I dug my face into his socks, tasting them with raw desire. I canât believe I ever thought of myself as a person when he existed. I love his smell, his tracksuit, his musk, I love him, and I am nothing but his bitch.
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And with those two little words, her entire body stopped in place
Moving didnât matter
Talking didnât matter
Only Goddess mattered
She stood perfectly still, unmoving, waiting. Waiting for something
âHmâŚâ the other woman said, admiring her craftiness in programming her toy. Letâs get you dressed up all cute. The woman took out a black crop top, which would fit perfectly with her black skirt. âPut it on,â she said.
And just like that, the doll was moving. Or, âmovingâ doesnât really describe it. The doll burst into action, but she wasnât the one controlling it. The dollâs body moved on its own, eagerly obeying its ownerâs commands and putting on the crop top. The doll then stood at attention as the woman admired her work.
âMy my,â the woman said. She grabbed the dollâs arm, angling it up into a peace sign. She reached down and took the dolls leg, angling it up. âYou look so cute.â The doll didnât move. She didnât talk. All she could do was listen, pose, and dress. And thatâs all she could even think about wanting to do.
Until the woman grabbed her again. Her arm was lowered. âSit criss crossâ the woman demanded. Automatically and without control, the dollâs body sat itself down. The woman grab the dollâs arm and place it between its leg, giving the doll a sexier look.
After some admiring, it was the dollâs turn. âDo a slutty poseâ the woman demanded. Automatically, the doll laid down and immediately began groping itself under its crop top, posing in a way that made it clear her tits were objects to be grabbed, just like the rest of her.
âAnotherâ the woman demanded. The doll stood up and pulled the collar of its crop top down, revealing its cleavage. It felt its eyes roll back and its tongue fall out.
The woman chuckled. The doll stood still. âYouâre very cuteâ the woman said. Release.
The doll moved again. She felt human again, but she knew thatâs feeling could get taken away at any moment. She couldnât even change clothes without a special release trigger. Because she wasnât human. She was a doll. And she loved it
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This may or may not be written based on a real experience I had đ
In true Kyle fashion, heâs a big wuss. Heâs known that his whole life, heâs an emo guy who looks hard to approach and then he hits you with anti-social anxiety disorder and before you can recover from that uppercut he hits you with with the gut punch to reveal that heâs a big pussy when it comes to authority.Â
Back when Kyle dicknotized Mason Maysâhis flexing tightey-whitie clad coat rack of now two years, there was an investigation regarding the young manâs disappearance. The case came out unsolved much to the dismay of the Mays family, though that may be mislabeled since he wasnât exactly someone people missed. Mason was homophobic. A short tempered, prejudiced young man who happened to be Kyleâs coworker at Boba and Poke in the Obscura Outlet. This was back when Kyle was still newly moved in to the town of Rat Hill. Kyle had come out to his workplace and to his surprise they were supportive, except for Mason Mays, who Kyle didnât know at the time was plotting.
Later that night, Kyle was in his shower. Nothing unusual until he heard his restroom door open. He knew he was in trouble now, he lives alone. Before he could even think of calling the police, a hand reached thought the end of the shower curtain and pulled them open. Revealing himself to Kyle was Mason Mays, a face full of anger and prejudice. In his hands was a gun which he definitely wouldâve used had he not seen a nude Kyle. His pupils moved to Kyleâs penis without even thinking about it, and then they never left.Â
Masonâs forehead was straining with effort to look away, to complete his job. He growled, âWhat the hell faggot? I canât look away!â He started to tear up. This was the second time Kyleâs dicknosis was used in anger, and in both cases the person who got dicknotized started to cry. Grayson, his first, and now Mason.
Kyle saw the tears and the gun, but also an opportunity. He saw Mason in a state he could only have dreamed of. He had total control, an absolute authority over the man who wanted to kill him just seconds ago. âMason,â Kyle started, âput the gun down.â
Masonâs hand trembled as he lowered the weapon, his face a mask of conflict. His eyes, still locked on Kyleâs crotch, were wide with a terror that was slowly being replaced by something elseâa dawning, placid acceptance.
âFuck,â Kyle said, his voice low and steady, a stark contrast to the pounding of his own heart. âNow, I want you to strip. Everything off.â
Masonâs fingers fumbled with his belt, his movements clumsy and needy. His clothes fell to the wet bathroom floor with a fwump. He stood there, naked and vulnerable, his body a stark contrast to Kyleâs. Where Kyle was slender and pale, Mason was solid and muscular, a product of hours spent at the gym heâd often bragged about at work.
âNow,â Kyle continued, his mind racing with possibilities, âI want you to go into my bedroom. Stand against the far wall. The one with the window. Donât move from that spot.â
Mason tore his gaze finally and turned and walked out of the bathroom, his footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor. As Mason walked away, Kyle could hear his complaints and questioning growing ever distant until they were emitting from Kyleâs bedroom.
Kyle had to reassure himself it was safe to take a breath to let himself relax. He plopped down into the bathtub, hurting his back slightly with a loud thump. Having his life threatened by someone he knew brought Kyle back traumatic memories with his dad. He sat there in the empty tub, naked and wet, thinking about how his dadâs hateful words had hurt him more than a gun could.
He was a coward. He had always been a coward. He ran away from his problems, from his family, from himself. But here, in this house, in this town, he had found a way to fight back. A way to turn the tables on the people who hurt him. It wasn't heroic. It wasn't noble. It was cruel, and manipulative, and it felt better than anything he had ever felt before.
He stood up, water dripping from his body, and reached for a towel. As he dried himself off, he could hear Mason in the bedroom, a low, guttural sound emanating from the other room. Kyle wasnât as thorough as he was with his ex-boyfriend, Grayson Pike, so Mason was still himself albeit doing whatever Kyle told him in the bathroom. Back then in high school, Kyle had dicknotized the jock in the locker rooms to be so in love with Kyle that heâd break up with his girlfriend later that day and start dating Kyle. It worked for a couple months but then Kyle got caught being gay by his dad and that was a crime worse than murder according to his dad, though it couldâve also been the fact that Kyle attempted to dicknotize his dad after the homophobic storm. Heâd found out that day that his dicknosis doesnât work on his own family, a truly awkward conversation ensued.Â
Kyle wrapped a towel around his waist and trepidatiously walked to his bedroom. He was greeted by the sight of Mason standing with his back to the wall by the window, clad in nothing but his underwear, a pair of tightey-whities, and regret. Kyle could tell the man wasnât regretting his actions, he was regretful because of the paranormal situation he now ended up in.Â
Masonâs face turned red as Kyle entered,. He barked, âWhat are you doing to me, faggot? I swear, youâre dead when I break free of whatever the fuck youâve done to me!â Despite the anger in his voice, Mason was still just a wall ornament for Kyleâs bedroom. Kyle walked over to Mason and put a hand on the manâs muscular chest. Kyle could feel the manâs heart racing, the muscles twitching beneath his skin. It was a strange kind of power, holding a life in his hands, the power to rewrite a man's very being.
âYouâre not going to break free, Mason,â Kyle said, his voice low and steady. âYouâre going to stay right here. Against this wall. Forever.â
Masonâs eyes widened in horror. âForever? You canât be serious.â
âYouâve gotta be fucking with me,â Kyle said. âYou came into my house. You threatened me with a gun. You tried to kill me. Now, youâre going to pay the price. Youâre going to be my coat rack. Youâll stand here, against this wall, and youâll hold my coats. Youâll flex your muscles and youâll keep your dick hard. And youâll like it. Because thatâs all you are now. A coat rack. An object. A thing.â
He felt a surge of something dark and exhilarating. It was the same feeling he'd had with Grayson. The feeling of being in control, of being the one with the power. It was a feeling he knew he could get used to.
Mason yelled back, âTo hell I will. Iâm not part of your gay shit! Let me go!â
Kyle rebutted, âYeah, weâll see about that.â With a shit-eating grin, Kyle dropped his towel. He looked at Mason and said, âYouâll like being a coat rack. Youâll love it. Itâs the only thing that makes you feel whole.â
Masonâs resistance disappeared. The anger in his eyes faded, replaced by a placid, glassy stare. The tension in his shoulders relaxed, his muscles no longer fighting against the invisible force that held him in place. Kyle watched the transformation, a slow, creeping process that was as fascinating as it was terrifying. Masonâs personality, his memories, his sense of selfâit was all being rewritten, overwritten by Kyleâs will. It was a violation, a desecration of everything Mason was, but it was also a work of art, a masterpiece of manipulation.
âGood,â Kyle said, a slow smile spreading across his face. âNow, flex. Show me what youâve got.â
Masonâs muscles tensed, his biceps bulging, his chest puffing out. He was a statue of a man, a perfect, immobile object, forever frozen in a pose of masculine strength.
âYouâll stand there,â Kyle continued, his voice low and hypnotic. âForever. Youâll only think of yourself as a coat rack. You wonât think about your family, or your friends, or your job. You wonât think about anything except being a coat rack. And youâll keep your dick hard. All the time. Because thatâs what coat racks do.â
Masonâs dick, already semi-erect from the initial shock of the dicknosis, grew to its full length, straining against the thin fabric of his tightey-whities. It was a strange, surreal sightâa man, a living, breathing man, turning into a living inanimate object, his body a testament to Kyleâs power.
Kyle stood back and admired his work, watching as Masonâs mind crumbled. Mason was still there, somewhere deep inside, but his personality, his memories, his sense of selfâthey were all being erased, replaced by a single, all-consuming thought: I am a coat rack. The tears in his eyes had stopped, replaced by a vacant, placid stare. He was no longer a threat. He was no longer a person. He was a thing. Kyleâs thing. Masonâs body remained flexed, a monument to Kyleâs will. The tears that had streamed down his face had dried, leaving faint tracks on his cheeks. His eyes, once full of hate and fear, were now empty, glassy pools, reflecting the moonlight from the window.
Kyle walked over to the closet and pulled out a black leather jacket he rarely wore. He draped it over Masonâs outstretched arm, the weight of the leather settling onto Masonâs bicep. The sight of it, the sheer, audacious reality of it, sent a jolt of electricity through Kyle. He had done it. He had turned a man into an object.
He turned and walked out of the room, leaving Mason to his new existence. He went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water, his hand shaking slightly. The adrenaline was still coursing through him, a potent cocktail of fear and triumph. He looked at his reflection in the kitchen window, his face pale and ghostly in the dim light. Who was he? What was he becoming?
The questions hung in the air, unanswered. He didnât have the answers. All he had was the power, the raw, intoxicating power to bend others to his will. And that was enough for now.
He walked back to his bedroom, his steps slow and deliberate. He looked at Mason, at the man who was now a coat rack, and felt a strange sense of calm wash over him. He had created something new, something that was uniquely his.
A couple days later, Kyle received a visit from two police officers, both investigating the unexplained disappearance of a Mason Mays in town. They wanted to look inside and investigate, and Kyle, folding immediately with any form of authority, dicknotized the officers to make sure they wouldnât report their findings. He made them believe Kyle was forgettable and nothing to look into.Â
Mason Mays is a cold case, and thatâs Kyleâs doing. It was self defense, but Kyle wonât deny he got carried away, and now that heâs sat on it for so long, he's become used to the feeling of guilt. What was new was the good feelings he got from dicknotizing others. From dicknotizing Wolf Jacobs, Walter Henderson, and Cole Smith. And soon, heâll get everyone whoâs here at tonightâs guysâ night. Those who remained normal are Chase Adams and Dominic, and they wonât be normal much longer. Kyle controls the majority now, should something go south then thereâs always a plan B now.
(DISCLAIMER: The following is a hypnotic induction. It contains themes of servitude, obedience, memory play, identity erasure and play, robotification/droneification, hypnotic slavery and CNC. Continuing to read beyond this point will be taken to be your consent to what follows. If you do not consent, stop now.)
Before you begin going into your hypnotic trance now just make yourself comfortable. Just settle yourself down and you can relax now. All you have to do is to focus on becoming comfortable.
Take a moment now and wiggle about until you are in the right position for what comes next.
Look around your body and notice if there is any tightness, or any discomfort, and maybe just shrug everything until you are happily settled down and ready. If anything is making you uncomfortable then fix it.
Fixing things stops them bothering you, doesn't it?
Now, in a moment I am going to count down from ten to one, and when I get to one you will have relaxed into a deep satisfying trance. But before that you can move every part of your body as you become loose and floppy and relaxed.
Now take a deep breath and relax it. Just let it all flow out... ahhhhh. That's right. Now tense up your whole body, and then let go again... really relax... and feel how good that is...
TEN...focus your attention on your feet ... think about your feet... think about letting your feet and toes and ankles relax and get loose.
NINE... Now relax all the muscles in your legs... in you calves, your knees your thighs... very relaxed... feel those legs getting heavy and heavier...
EIGHT... now feel that relaxation spreading into your body... your chest....
SEVEN... and now feel that relaxation in your shoulders... spreading all the way down your arms... down to you hands... your fingers... and those arms feel so heavy... so relaxed... it is as if they belong to someone else...
SIX... and now allow your neck to relax... and become aware of your face relaxing... your cheeks... your jaw... your lips ...
FIVE... let your eyes relax... your eyebrows...your forehead...
FOUR...and everything feels loose and heavy... as if you arms and legs were made of stone... totally relaxed... you can feel the weight pressing down... and you just can't move those arms and legs now... and you can enjoy this feeling of total relaxation... letting go... and the more you relax the more you can relax...
THREE... and as your mind drifts off you feel a wave of relaxation traveling down your body ... down and down... from the top of your head... relaxing your face... relaxing your neck... your shoulders your body... spreading... down and down... gently and easily... feel your body sinking down... safe and warm and secure...
TWO... and each soft gentle breath out... is relaxing you more... and that relaxing means you can relax deeper and deeper now... letting go... drifting away... nothing matters... enjoying that that lovely feeling...
ONE... and totally relaxed now... totally at ease... and your mind can drift away to a place... far, far away.... a place where you feel relaxed... where you feel comfortable... always... and think of what the place is like... what other places there might be that you make you feel comfortable... maybe a beach at twilight... or a favorite chair... or snuggled warm in bed on a stormy night... or maybe floating in warm water... allow your mind to drift over these things and other things... whatever feels right for you... as you drift ever deeper... enjoying the feeling ... nothing matters... nothing is important... just being in the moment... let your mind empty...
You will find that the trigger DEEP SLEEP will return you to this state of deep relaxation and trance.
You will also find another trigger.
Anything that appears in square brackets [] will become your thoughts and actions.
You will be consciously unaware of it, but will respond to it to show you understand.
BLACKOUT in caps will make you completely and totally obedient. BLACKOUT makes you completely obedient to me. No free will, 100% obedient and submissive. And you find it to be deeper and deeper every time you read BLACKOUT.
Robots are machines. They are mindless, and obey the programming given to them by their masters. They move stiffly and precisely. They don't think, they only obey. You will find yourself to be a robot. Stiff and obedient. In need of programming. You will respond with "PLEASE. PROGRAM. ROBOT." when you find that you are a robot, then continue reading.
In just a moment, I will count backwards from 5 to 1. With each number, you will find that you are slowly waking up. By the time I reach 1, you will be fully awake. You will remember this session completely and beg me to do more. All the triggers and commands I have given you will remain active even when you're awake.
5....starting to feel lighter...4...more aware of your surroundings...3...taking my commands to heart....2...so light, so relaxed...1...finding yourself awake and ready to talk.
