The Weakest Think

That first story leads to another and soon enough it’s 4am and I’m listening to my first Good Boy audio recording. Nervous, feeling ridiculous yet unbelievably excited and turned on. I follow the deep, sexy voice. “Take a deep breath in, hold it, one, two, three and breathe out.” I’m not sure what this has to do with being a Good Boy but in, one, two, three and out. And again. It’s easy to follow along and as I breathe out I find myself relaxing just a little bit. “In, one, two, three, and out. Breathing in relaxation, and breathing out all that tension.” I feel my shoulders slump back. Breathing, listening, relaxing. “More and more relaxed, just listening, following. Breathing in, one, two, three and out.” Slow, deep breaths as I listen and follow. It’s so easy now, to just keep on breathing, relaxing, following, sinking. “Good Boys sink. Good Boys follow and relax. Good Boys sink deep. Deeper and deeper. More and more relaxed. Breath in, one, two, three and out.”

There’s a heaviness that spreads. I feel it first in my feet. They just feel so heavy. That curious leaden sensation spreads quickly as I listen. As I follow. As I sink. My ankles, my calves, my knees. Upward, onward. “Waist, chest, shoulders. So relaxed and heavy.” My arms, my hands. So heavy I can’t even move them. I try but my hands just lay there, limp on the arms of my chair. Soon enough it just seems right to stop trying. That heaviness keeps rising. Now it’s reached the top of my head and then at last my face. My jaw loosens, my mouth opens and suddenly it’s impossible to keep my eyes open. My eyelids are so heavy, “it’s so hard to keep them open so why not just relax and let them close?” And they do. I feel so relaxed and safe. “It just feels right to keep on relaxing, keep on following, keep on sinking.” My head slowly drifts forward and down until my chin is on my chest. 

“Sinking down, deeper and deeper”. There’s just the voice now. Deep, melliferous, sexy, commanding. “Still breathing. In, one, two, three, and out. But sinking deeper now”. Doubling my trance, going deeper, deeper and deeper. It’s so easy to follow the voice, so easy to listen and obey. “Good Boy. Feeling so relaxed, so safe. It’s so easy to just listen, to relax and follow the words like a Good Boy should. Good Boys listen, Good Boys listen and obey.”

I’m at the top of a marble staircase that spirals downward. I descend, each step taking me deeper. “Sinking down, deeper and deeper with every step.” Each leading me further into relaxation. Into obedience. My thoughts have drifted away, my mind is quiet, foggy, blank. “Five, even deeper, so deep…” The last step. The deepest I’ve ever been. There’s only the voice, the voice is burying itself in my very core, roots sinking into my subconscious. 

Obedience. Worship. Admiration. It feels so good to be a Good Boy. A Sleepy Boy. These are my triggers. Hearing or seeing Good Boy written in a DM from Master will bring arousal and excitement, obedience and conformity. “Good Boys know pleasure is obedience, and obedience is pleasure.” Sleepy Boy will return me to this deep state of trance. “Deeply hypnotised. Open for further conditioning, training, change.” 

It’s 5am on Christmas Day. I’ve been listening to the file on repeat. Each time dropping down faster, sinking deeper into trance. Into mindless obedience. The excitement of that first moment, of disbelief, as I sank into trance for the first time! The first time I wasn’t sure if it was my tiredness or if I was just playing along, desperately willing it to be real. The fourth time the first Good Boy had my cock instantly hard while Sleepy Boy sent my senses reeling as I slipped back into trance.

Flushed and nervous I DM the account where I found the recording and sit desperately waiting for a reply. It is Christmas morning, I must be patient. In the meantime there are other files. Oh there’s a Christmas special edition!

I listen, melting instantly into Master’s voice, smiling and giggling, giddy with excitement when I hear my Good Boy trigger. Falling instantly, deeply into trance when He says Sleepy Boy. “Take a breath in, hold it, one, two, three and let it out.” Each breath in relaxes me more and more, each breath out releases all my worries, tension, thoughts. “Sinking so deep now. Good Boy, Sleepy Boy.”

In that empty, blank state, Master gives me my Christmas present. Figure hugging, skin tight training gear. A vest, shorts, tight Lycra to show off my muscles, for the new body I will build for His pleasure. I see the gear clearly in my mind. I will buy it when I wake up. I’ll wear it to the gym as I perfect my body. This is my present, His is a new perfect himbo. A perfect, preppy himbo. Body and mind sculpted to His liking. An obedient Good Boy who will send Master progress photos at the end of each workout while I am still sweaty and exhausted from training.

Even as I shake off the trance, my fingers are already buying my new training gear. It’s Christmas morning. It’ll take a few days for delivery. I’m lost in a reverie thinking about my New Year’s resolutions. I need to get in shape, rebuild the body that I’ve let go in my lonely exile. I stroke my cock, getting hard as I think of the new me I’m going to build. I need a haircut and a shave. And a new wardrobe. The training gear is great but I need some new button down shirts, chinos and smart shoes. I stop myself from instantly hitting the sales online. No, I should go into the city, make a day of it. Treat myself to a proper makeover and try everything on before buying. I want to look my best, I need to be the best version of me. It just feels right. It’s what I need to do. 

Yet as these thoughts crowd in on me I start to feel anxious. These aren’t my thoughts. I look at the DM I sent. “I am Master’s Good Boy”. Why did I send it? I don’t know anything about this guy. Sure his voice is so fucking hot, so easy to listen to. To follow and obey. I’m frightened now, I know I trust and respect Master but logic screams that such thoughts are mad. How can I trust a voice, a recording? Why am I obeying this unknown Master? Letting him rewrite my reality? Admittedly it’s a pretty shit reality but still I need to be careful.

And then a DM appears. “Good Boy”. The reaction to reading these two little words is instant. A crackle of pleasure runs through me. I’m excited, happy, and eager. But the nervousness remains. I reply, the words writing themselves, “it makes me feel so excited to read those words. I listened to your file and had to message you.” And it’s 100% true. I am excited. And I was compelled to DM the guy. But recognising that truth only heightens my anxiety. I tap out a further message, “it feels so exciting but strange. I read your words and hear your voice in my head and feel happy, foggy, weird.”

I sit back, a mix of emotions. My cheeks are red and my heart beats fast and loud in my ears.

The response is almost instant, “strange how?”

I’m in a conversation with Him. It’s thrilling, terrifying, “I’m not used to feeling so open, to being so relaxed about following along to someone’s words, someone I don’t know but somehow trust and want to please. It’s strange.” I’m rock hard now, breathing fast, desperate for a reply.

“Sleepy Boy.” The trigger. My trigger to go deep, to fall back into trance, “Deep in trance. But you can still see my words and answer me. Do you understand?”

The trigger did its work. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good Boy. You’ve been deeply hypnotised haven’t you Sleepy Boy?”

“Yes.” My trigger had instantly cast aside my resistance. I’m blank, empty, open.

“Good Boy. You trust Master, don’t you, boy?” Those words. A wave of excitement washes through me. More intense now I am deeply hypnotised. Now that He is talking directly to my subconscious.

“Yes.”

“Yes Master. You will always call me Master from now on. You want to be Master’s Good Boy don’t you? “

“Yes Master.”

You need to be Master’s Good Boy. You listen to Master. You trust Master. You admire Master. You worship Master. Following Master’s words just feels right. There is nothing strange in this, nothing to fear. Forget all those silly worries. Let them go.” 

“Remember to breathe, breathe in. Hold it, one, two, three and breathe out. Keep breathing. Nice and slow. And with each breath you let out all those silly worries, all those thoughts. All you need to do is follow and obey. It just feels so good to follow and obey. Isn’t that right Good Boy?”

“Yes Master.”

“Good Boy. No worries. No thoughts. Good Boys are empty and blank. And you are a Good Boy, aren’t you?”

“Yes Master. I am a Good Boy. I am empty and blank,” and I am, I have slipped into a relaxed state of blissful emptiness. All those silly worries forgotten. Replaced by a cosy, safe nothingness.

“Good Boy. It’s nearly time to wake up. But before you do I have one more instruction for you and a new trigger. If you ever start to feel anxious or strange, you will DM Master to say ‘Good Boy needs to remember to forget’. Do you understand boy?”

“Yes Master, I understand. If I ever feel anxious or strange, I will message you and say ‘Good Boy needs to remember to forget’.”

“Good Boy. And the moment you hit send on your message, indeed whenever you send me a message, you will hear my voice in the deepest parts of your subconscious. You will hear Master say, ‘Sleepy Boy,’ and you will instantly obey. You will sink. You will return to this deep state of trance. You will be deeply hypnotised. And all those silly worries will vanish from your mind. Replaced by emptiness, blankness. You will feel completely relaxed. Completely open. And you will wait for further instructions’. Do you understand Sleepy Boy?”

“Yes Master, I understand. Whenever I send you a message, I will hear you say ‘Sleepy Boy’ and I will be deeply hypnotised. Empty, blank, completely relaxed, completely open. I will be a Good Boy and wait for further instructions.” The words come as naturally as breathing. My own subconscious formulation, subtly different to Master’s direction, elaborated, evolved by my own eagerness to please. 

“Good Boy. Now it’s time to wake up. One, two, three, four, five and wide awake. How do you feel, my Good Boy?”

“Master, I feel so happy and excited. It feels so good to read your words. Being a Good Boy for Master makes me so blank and empty.”

“Good Boy, Merry Christmas my Good Boy.”

“Merry Christmas Master! I will be the best present I can be for Master.” All my worries were gone. Instead my thoughts were all of how I would perfect my body and mind to be Master’s perfect himbo. A new body, a new look, a new mindset. A preppy jock boy. A Stepford puppet. Master’s Good Boy.