There’s a good number of you for whom this is one of your deepest, darkest fantasies.
Just look at her, look at you. Helpless, already exposed.
But this is just the beginning. Imagine what he’s going to do to you. A living sex doll, every hole for his pleasure, or amusement. Perhaps you’re going to learn what a twisted fuck he really is, and your helpless body is his plaything.
Either way, there’s nothing you can do about it.
I saw no appeal to this… it seemed like phaux-necrophillia to me. And then I did it via hypnosis and loved it!
And yet I saw no appeal?! I was really confused at myself, and even a little insecure.
That feeling… I’ve learned that is a huge “yay! There is something to be learned here!” flag. I thought about it a lot and eagerly did it again. I think I’ve figured out why this is hot for me:
It’s an honor whenever anyone submits to me. They are letting themselves be vulnerable, and being an active participant on something that brings them to a space where I get to see them in a way few will ever experience.
This goes double for hypnosis scenes because their subconscious is entrusting me, too.
I treat sex too much like a performance sometimes, and I’m in my head more than I’d like. Scenes like these are visceral, physical, visual and tactile manifestations of their negotiated and subconscious consent to really, really, not make it about them, to be used at my whim. For example: Sometimes during regular fucking I just don’t want to cum yet, and keep myself on edge by pausing just long enough to be able to take the next hard thrust or two. I love edging myself like this, especially when this unpredictable start & stop drives my partner insane, but it drives me to the point that, when I finally give in to my desire to cum, there is no lengthy hard-fucking finale possible — my orgasm starts pretty-much immediately. This causes part of my ability to live in the moment to instead be spent on telling the ‘was it good for her too?’ voice in my head to stop wincing and sit the fuck down. Instead, with a hypnosis scene like this, that voice still won’t shut up, but its presence just draws attention to the scene and that even that showman part of me agrees that my primary task is to not be a showman! It’s like fractionation, but instead of repeated up-down events that help bring the subject deeper, they are worry-grin events that reminds and helps me stay in the moment and enjoy!
Anyone who wants to be a good toy will value knowing that even though we both know that what’s being done is what they secretly want, I’m doing what I want, with no doubts as to whether or not I’m being a service top to please them. (Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy being a service top, too! 😉 ) I get that, and provide that. … … and hey, if that ironically means that I’m just being a service-top at a higher level, that’s just fine. 😀
I still enjoy reactions of course, and with this kind of scene you do lose some of that, but it’s a small price to pay for the rest of it!
I’m really appreciating the depth of thought in this analysis. @femsubdenial, your final comment about losing your partner’s reactions made me think of another hypno-possibility – being able to snap or otherwise trigger your sub to show their full range of reaction when you want it.
Lifeless sex toy open to anything *snap* whimpering mess for a few brief moments before *snap* blank doll giving you whatever your pleasure is *snap* moaning desperation. Best of both worlds (or at least good parts of both), plus the fractionation to boot.
So I’m delighted to post this audio I voiced with my brand spanking new microphone (courtesy of travisthehypnotizedpuppy.) It was a test and I wanted to make it super-special.
The content is written by the brilliant and sexy as fuck hypno-sandwich. This is one of my favorites of his. I hope my performance does it justice.
I hope you enjoy it, and look forward to releasing more and more recordings. Keep on the look out for some long form recordings you can buy sometime in the future.
You sit there in your chair staring at this graphic. It’s not a spiral. And that’s ok. It’s ok because you can see it pulsing in and out. And pretty soon…
Pretty soon as you watch it you might find your breath expands and contracts with the throbbing and pulsing of this black and white…
A single chime woke Kaye up, and
she looked around her bedroom, trying to get her bearings. The place seemed
unbelievably tidy, as if someone had been cleaning all day. She could just make
out the scent of furniture polish and cleaning fluids and, over that, some
incense, probably coming from the other side of the room. She went to peer at
where she presumed the incense to be in the dusky darkness coming in through
her condo window, but was somehow halted. That’s when she realized her arms
weren’t free to move. In fact, they were tied to either bedpost. She pulled a
little, testing the ropes, but they held fast. She could move them around
somewhat, but she couldn’t reach her face, and she certainly couldn’t pull her
hands together to try to untie them. Her legs were tied as well, although they
were more securely fastened.
She looked down and saw that she
was wearing her favorite bra-and-panty combo. The ones she had made special
from Trashy Lingerie. The color matched her skin perfectly, and highlighted the
favorite parts of her body.
She wasn’t entirely sure what was
going on, but she felt her pussy moisten at the thought of it. She also had
this odd taste in her mouth, and was certain she felt a little… peckish.
“Oh good, you’re up.”
Kaye looked at the doorway. There
was this… man. She felt certain she had met him somewhere, and knew she should
know his name, but however much she tried, she couldn’t quite place it.
The man smiled, showing off perfect
teeth.
Despite herself, Kaye took in his
long, sinewy, lanky frame. He was wearing the tightest of boxer briefs, which
showed off what seemed like acres of skin. Kaye licked her lips; they seemed
like acres because her eyes were enjoying carefully lingering over every square
inch.
She noticed that he seemed excited
to see so much of her. Very excited. Thickly excited.
She shook her head. “Who… who are
you?”
His smile broadened. “Good. You
don’t know who I am. We agreed you can call me Jay.” And he tried not to
chuckle at the terrible joke. “Again. Anyway, we ran out of cake.”
She looked at him quizzically, and
then noticed he held in his hands a plate, on which was the most beautiful cake
she had ever seen. It was perfect. The cake part was golden, and the frosting
was this amazing-looking creamy frosting…. And held in the hands of this rather
attractive person who kept looking at her… .well, he looked at her the same way
she was looking at the cake.
She drooled. A lot. And tried to
wipe it from her mouth, forgetting that her hands were tied.
“So, shall we see how long it takes
to go through this slice?”
“What? What do you mean?”
“That’s right… your short-term
memory was supposed to be the first thing to go. It’s a game we play. Don’t
worry. Here, this will help explain it.” As he was talking, he sat down next to
Kaye, and cut a small bite of the cake with his fork. He brought it to her
lips.
Something in his manner gave Kaye
the slightest bit of a pause.
But all of a sudden, she was so
very, very hungry, and the bite of cake he dangled in front of her lips looked
so, so good. She opened her mouth and willed her head forward to ease the
morsel into her mouth. As it hit her tongue she felt her entire body begin to
quiver and quake. The vanilla was perfect, and the chocolate buttercream
frosting matched perfectly.
“My g*d,” she thought, “this is
really good.”
As she chewed she realized it was
as though she was feeling the taste throughout her body. She felt her whole
body tense up, slightly as if… as if…
And then she swallowed, and her
whole world shifted as an incredible orgasm rocketed through her body. She
screamed and thrashed a little bit… well, a lot. She through herself back into
the pillow underneath her head, her legs trying to kick out, and her fists and
toes clenched. Her pussy throbbed as her whole body pulsed with pleasure.
The feeling sub—the feeling went
down a little, and she slowly opened her eyes. She felt a little freer, but
also… less…. Smart? She could tell something was missing.
Her eyes focused and… the man… Jay!
Jay was his name, already had another bit dangling in front of her.
She looked down and could see his
cock poking up beyond the waistband of his underwear. He moved the bit in front
of her eyes.
“So I’ll explain. We’re playing a
game. You don’t have to eat any of this. No one is forcing you. But every time
you take a bite, you lose another 5 points or so off your IQ. You’ll also, as
you’ll have noticed, have an orgasm. And that’ll keep happening until you
either stop eating for five minutes, or you say one word. Do you know what that
word is?” As he was talking he was moving the food in kind of a circle in front
of her eyes. Despite herself, she was following it around that circle. Dammit,
she was so turned on. She’d give so much right now just to be able to clench
her thighs together. But wait… he had asked a question. Something about a word?
Oh yes… there was a little part in her mind that was clear, even if the rest of
her internal landscape was fuzzy. “Surrender.” Yes. That was the only word that
was clear in her…in her mind. Yes. That was the word for it.
“And once you say that word, you’ll
do everything I say for the next hour.” She nodded, not hearing him say the
last word, “Again,” and before she even realized the next bite was in her mouth
and she was chewing, as fast as she could, aiming for that orgasm. She
swallowed, and laughed as the climax soared through her.
The nice sexy J… man was laughing. While
she thrashed around he had somehow removed his underwear and was sitting in
front her again. As she came down she looked hungrily between the cake and his
cock.
“Really?” He asked her.
She nodded her head. “Yesssss.” She
was finding it so difficult to talk, actually. “Cake and cock.” And she
giggled. “Cake on cock.” She said,
finally figuring out what she meant. She seemed relieved and disappointed in
equal measure.
He seemed impressed that she had
that much willpower to ask for something. He shrugged, and said, “I don’t know
how many more bites you have before you’re lost, so are you sure?”
“Put the cake on the… on the cock… master.”
She wasn’t entirely sure why she said “master.” It felt like it was the first
time she said it, and something in some compartment deep within her was banging
on some window yelling something about “too soon! Too soon!” Other parts of
her, however, were yelling even louder, “Yes! It’s inevitable! Tell him how you
feel!” She really couldn’t make sense of all that. All she knew was that she
had two wants, cake and cock, and having them both at once just seemed like a
good… plan. If she was paying attention, she would have noticed him smile and
blush a little.
The nice man got on the bed and
straddled her head. He cut a small piece of the cake and smeared it on the head
of the cock. “Say please,” he said.
“Pleeeee-<unf>” As he placed
the tip of his cock in her mouth.
This was bliss. She loved, in that
moment, how the cock filled her mouth, just enough that it was a challenge. She
licked and lapped the cake off his cock. She could hear him grunt with
pleasure, and something about that sound strummed her clit almost as much as
the cake was making it throb. Finally, when she was sure she had it all off his
cock, she swallowed. Her whole mind and body disappeared in the flash. It was
as if lightning shattered through her. Her body lost control as she pulled at
the ropes holding her down.
Somehow, in all the thrashing, the
guy with the thick cock (Jake? Sam? Hank??) let the plate slip from his grasp.
The cake landed on her face. Before he could react, Kaye opened her mouth and
took as much into her mouth as she could. Cake and frosting was smeared on her
mouth and face as it slid down the side of her face. It didn’t matter, though;
she chased the cake to the very sheets and started chewing and swallowing as
quickly as she could. Orgasm after orgasm charged through her body. The man
tried to stop her, holding her face away from the food, but she went after his
fingers, licking the bits of frosting that was there.
Every orgasm tore more of her
intelligence and more of her will away from her. Soon there was nothing left
but the craving for more pleasure, more cake, and more… something. There was
something else she was supposed to maybe say or do? She wasn’t sure. The man
loomed larger and larger in her sight.
“Stop!” he finally said.
She froze. She had no thoughts in
her empty mind—they had all vanished. She was still She was obedient.
Distantly, if she had been able to think, she would have noticed how wet her
pussy was at the thought of still obedience. But all she was right now was a
giant, throbbing, quivering pile of need.
He knelt over her still, his
expanse of taught skin stretched over her, filling her vision.
Finally, he balanced back on his
knees over her. She took him in. If she could, she’d have describe him as
beautiful.
He looked at her with a slight
amount of concern, and no small amount of desire.
She went looking through her own
brain. All the words had been orgasmed out of her. Except for one. It was a
word she was clinging to like a raft on the waves.
They held each others’ eyes for
what seemed like an eternity.
Finally, he nodded.
And with a sigh of relief and
release, she said it.
“Surrender.”
* * * * *
With special thanks to theleeallure for the obvious inspiration.
Stories for lizzidoll will in all likelihood continue after the weekend. (Apologies for the delays… life happens.)
So it turns out as a movie it is pretty problematic and shitty but a good 25% of it is Alan Rickman wearing swishy cloaks trancing (or something like it) ladies who realllllyyyyyy seem to enjoy it. But he just keeps whining about healing the world and science and stuff.
This is for science.
And medicine.
Not sexy at all.
SHE WANTS THE T. (T=trance)
Goddamn that little handhold in a hypno context can just be the most intimate thing.
Ugh Hans Gruber Snape Mesmer Rickman stop making me love you.
Not sexual. Nope.
NOTE This character is pretty much moaning at this point. Because getting your blindness treated is hawt.
Prettttttty sure I do something like this in trance.
I guess this could be kinky but she’s already blind.
Like I said, there’s a lotta dis.
AW YEAH GET IT GURL AND BY “IT” I MEAN YOUR VISION AND THERFORE AN EYEFUL OF SEXY HYPNOTIST ALAN RICKMAN.
ALL THE FRENCH ROYAL LADIES WANT THE T.
Same.
Wait I think I saw a porno like this once.
WHAT THE FUCK HE IS MAKING A ROOM FULL OF FRENCH LADIES HAVE AN ORGASM. THIS MOVIE IS NOT EVEN PRETENDING MESMERISM ISN’T SEXUAL. WHAT IS GOING ON. WHY IS THIS MOVIE SHITTY/GREAT?
YOU TOO ALAN?
GREATEST.
MOVIE.
SCENE.
EVER.
In conclusion: Thank you, Dr. Mesmer. You hoped your work would cure suffering and disease, and eventually your legacy resulted in freaks like me getting off on it. And you got a shitty biopic that was kinda hot in a weird way, even by hypnofetishist standards. Mazel tov.
It was the vacant expression on the women’s face across from me that frightened me the most. There were five of them, kneeling, wearing this god-awful outfit, the kind you’d think a horny 16-year-old boy would imagine a dominatrix would wear. Only these women weren’t standing sternly over the boy; they were on their knees, in a row, staring into space. I tried to get their attention, first by whispering, then by shouting. But it was useless.
I’d say I tried to take stock of the situation when I first came to, but only my ex-boyfriend would make those kind of lame puns. One moment I was at this new club wearing my LBD and having my favorite drink- a Manhattan, thank you very much- and the next, I’m here, naked, my wrists and neck caught between two planks. The planks were chained to the floor and ceiling, suspended, so I was stuck in a kneeling position, my ass resting on another wooden plank which ran between my legs. The room was dark, and I could barely make out anything beyond the five woman staring blankly into the darkness behind me.
They were of varying builds and races, and, frankly, they were all pretty hot. Pretty hot? Why was I thinking like that? I must still be woozy from that drink. Or whatever was in that drink. In fact, the one on the right looked like the woman who had been next to me at the bar, the one who said she liked my dress, and asked me about my shoes. I thought I saw her do something near my drink when I looked down, but I wasn’t sure. That’s about the last thing I remember before I woke up here.
It was then that I noticed I wasn’t actually terrified. If anything, this whole experience was making me… a little turned on. Yes. I was definitely turned on.
As i was trying to make sense of this, I thought I heard a whisper or a voice say something behind me.
All of a sudden, projected on the women and the wall behind them, was this amazing digital spiral thing. Well, it wasn’t quite a spiral and it wasn’t not a spiral. It was simultaneously black and white and all the colors of the rainbow. Or, at least, that’s how I remember it.
And then there was this weird sound playing in the background. It wasn’t quite music, but it wasn’t exactly drum and bass. And there was some kind of whispering going on behind that. I tried to make out what it was saying. I thought I had just figured it out when it got drowned out by what happened next.
Because, right then, a humming filled the room. I looked at the women and saw that they were on what looked a lot like Sybians, and that’s where the hum was coming from.
At exactly the same time, I felt something press against my clit and that’s when I realized the plank I was over had a hole right in the fucking middle of it. ‘Cause that’s when I started to feel the thing pressed against me start to vibrate. And the vibrations were pulsing in time to the video projecting on those fucking hot women and the wall behind them.
I’m not going to lie; it felt good. So good. Disturbingly good. I was just trying to come to my senses about this, when the women started speaking in unison.
“Obedience brings pleasure.”
What. The. Actual. Fuck?
Then again, in creepy unison. “Obedience brings pleasure.”
And that’s when I realized the vibration from the thing pressed against me was in time with their words, too.
Then the vibration on me, and the humming stopped at the same time.
All at once I heard a chorus of disappointed moans from the women.
They looked at me with… disappointment? Rage? Accusation? I guess it depends on which one I looked at, if I could tear my eyes away from their heaving breasts.
Then it started again.
“Obedience brings pleasure.” They chanted. “Obedience brings pleasure.”
Fuck. It felt so good, though it was much lighter than last time.
Whatever they had injected in me, whatever was going on, it was working. This was starting to feel better than the Molly I had at Burning Man five years ago.
But the fact it was lighter was sooooo frustrating.
Then it turned off again. Again, there were disappointed sighs from the women.
A minute later it started again, only I could barely feel it. In fact, whatever it was that was beneath me didn’t vibrate at all. It just lay there, across my clit.
I admit I tried to press against it, but it didn’t make a difference.
Again, three times-”Obedience brings pleasure.” This time the words were displayed over the animation. This time, when the vibrations turned off, I admit, I joined the chorus of disappointed moans.
“Fuck it,” I thought. “Why not?”
When it started up, I waited until I could do it in time to girls. “Obedience brings pleasure.” Oh fuck. The vibrator started right up, just like the first time. “Obedience brings pleasure. Obedience brings pleasure.”
This time it kept going. And going.
I soon learned that if I stopped saying it, everything would stop for a minute, and the women would whine very loudly.
I really got into the rhythm of it, thought. “Obedience brings pleasure. Obedience brings pleasure.” Even the thought of it was really hot. I’d always had a thing for roleplaying in the bedroom. Pretending to be Chuck’s sex slave that one weekend was a lot of fun. This was starting to feel a little like that headspace I got to by the end of that weekend.
I was getting ready to come when all of a sudden all the vibrations stopped. This time I did groan in disappointment, but-strangely-the other women didn’t.
One minute later a new sentence appeared.
“I am blank and empty, ready to be filled.”
What the fuck? I mean, it was hot, but still. The women started to chant before I registered what was going on, and this time I got nothing between my legs.
This was so frustrating.
“Fine.” I thought. “I can do this.”
After the vibrations over there stopped, the glares happened again, and the minute was up, I was ready.
“I am blank and empty, ready to be filled.” As before, the vibrator kept going and going as long as I repeated what was on the screen.
This went on for-easily-another five minutes, and, just as I was getting close again, it stopped. Again, I groaned in frustration.
Do you ever get drunk on lust, where everything is hazy and you’d do anything to get over that edge? That’s where I was.
I looked into the darkness for what felt like minutes, waiting for the next sentence.
“I have no will, I live to serve.” That’s easy.
I started chanting right on cue, and was rewarded with so much pleasure.
“I have no will, I live to serve. I have no will, I live to serve.”
For the next… I don’t know.. several hours? This routine repeated over and over again. Pretty soon, the sentences would flash over the animation one right after the other.
“I am a mindless slave.”
“I obey my orders.”
“Only good drones get to cum.”
“I don’t deserve to think.”
“I believe my mantras.”
“I live to obey.”
“I want to be a drone. I want to be a slave. I want to be mindless, empty, and blank.”
“I am a drone. I am a slave. I am mindless, empty, and blank.”
“I am a fucktoy.”
“I am just an obedient cunt.”
“I live for my orders.”
And you know what? It worked.
I think when I finally got to “Fuck my mind like the good fuckdoll I am” I was allowed to come. But I can’t really say, because by that point I was really mindless and filled with desire. Several hours of frustration will do that.
Once I broke, the women got up, released me, and began to construct a new identity for me. But that’s a whole other story.
This story…
This is a story I like to tell women like you, because the drug I put in your drink took effect a long, long time ago. You won’t remember me telling it to you at all, even though you’ve been saying the mantras with me all the way through.
