#conditioning
“What did you say to me?” the whumper asks in a dangerously calm tone.
“Fuck off,” the whumpee hisses, teeth bared.
“No, not that.” The whumper grabs their captive’s chin and tilts their head back. “Just a moment earlier. I believe you said something along the lines of ‘you’ll never fucking own me, you piece of shit.”
The whumpee doesn’t bother with a reply, simply continuing to glare at their captor.
“Now, I can tolerate your rather excessive use of profanity,” the whumper begins, squeezing their captive’s jaw with enough force to bruise, “but I won’t condone lies.”
The whumpee snorts. “It’s not a lie. You don’t own me.”
The whumper’s eyes narrow. They’re silent for a long moment, and then they shove their thumb into the whumpee’s mouth, prying their teeth apart.
“Open up,” they demand sharply, and although the whumpee resists, biting at their fingers, the whumper manages to create enough of an opening to shove something past their lips.
The chemical taste explodes across the whumpee’s tongue, and they grunt in disgust. It takes them a second to process, but their eyes widen when they realize what’s happened.
There’s a bar of soap in their mouth.
The whumpee curses, but their words are muffled by the rectangular object filling their mouth. Nose crinkling, they grimace, trying to push the bar out with their tongue. The whumper clucks in disapproval, shoving the soap in deeper, all the way until it can’t go back any further.
Satisfied, the whumper steps back to admire their work. “Good. Keep that in there. Starting now, you’re going to tell me the truth. If you lie, I’ll have to wash out your filthy mouth.”
The whumpee squirms, gagging on the overwhelmingly repugnant taste. Their teeth dig into the waxy soap, and their gums sting. Tears spring to their eyes from both the discomfort and humiliation.
With a content smile, the whumper runs a gentle hand through their hair. “You see?” They caress the whumpee’s cheek, wiping away stray tears. “I do own you.”
Conditioned
Every time my slave comes home she knows that she has to undress immediately. After that she crawls to me so I can put on her collar. Then she just has to lay in front of me, naked with her legs open, her cunt exposed.
And then nothing, nothing happens, totally nothing, time goes by….I just let her lay there, I look at her body, her cunt, her tits and let her embrace the feeling of being owned and being my slave. It’s a kind of meditation. Returning back into our world with my rules and standards.
Back to her basic: the natural order: being a true woman exposed and owned and totally safe and protected.
Then she is at home and ready to serve.
Devotional Training.
Vimeo said this was too much for their service, in retrospect they might be right. All of this is really a picnic in the park compared to the truly horrible things I do and don’t show you. This is me at 4/10. Keeping it light and easy.
This video is 8 minutes long - it’s still better paced than anything Stanley Kubrick ever made.
It’s a little different from what I normally post. No real torture, just humiliation and a little psychological rearrangement. You’re about to watch a young woman piss in a bowl, asphyxiate herself in that piss, and then drink it up with a straw. You can’t see them here, but her vagina has some safety pins in it - as I said, no realtorture.
The real question is why?
As a matter of course I make her piss on the floor, and lick it up like the pathetic little puppy I’ve turned her into. At work she pisses in a bottle. She sits at her desk sipping on a bottle of ‘juice’. If anyone ever starts choking, she’s going to have some hard choices to make. In the last third of this video you can hear the magic wand between her legs doing its work - I’m conditioning her to be aroused by the taste and scent of urine. She’s going to spend her life as a toilet, it’s only fair she’s taught to enjoy it.
The asphyxia is the real highlight, and I’m glad I can share it with you. She suffers from panic attacks, so naturally I’ve started inducing them. She was reduced to tears and begging. More importantly, she was extremely aroused as she was panicking - watch her trying to rub her cunt even as she’s running out of air. I’m conditioning her to become aroused by the feelings of panic and loss of control. How can a girl ever have any self-confidence if the only thing that makes her pussy wet is horrible humiliation and abuse?
All it takes to break a woman, and make sure she stays broken, is a bit of thought and the will to be cruel.
Devotional Training: Conditioning.
Rules That Make you a Better Toy:
- Never close your legs
- Never close your lips when in front of someone who might want to use you.
- Edge every moment you have. Wherever and whenever you can. From the moment you wake till you fall asleep.
- Never cum
- Find ways to make every everyday activity and life something something that torments, teases, humiliates, degrades or makes you suffer.
- Train your two primary holes. (Ass and throat)
- Study porn for new ways to degrade or abuse yourself for the entertainment of others. And practice them.
- Concentrate on always moving in ways that show off your body. Bend at the waist, arch your back, let them see your tits.
- Edge more
- Don’t fucking cum
- Repeat the things like the following as often as possible to yourself, especially while edging: I will never be good enough, always try harder, I am a pathetic toy, my only worth is pleasing others. You get the idea.
This will keep you horny, desperate and train your mind to never be far from what you want to be. And will make you a better all round toy. These are very good for self conditioning.
Devotional Training: Self Conditioning Tips.
When you really start to think of a ruined orgasm as a reward, and a real orgasm as a strange, unnecessary thing that almost never crosses your mind, you’re a good girl.
And you want to be a good girl, don’t you?This was suggested to me last night - a sort of permanent denial, punctuated with occasional ruined orgasms - and it scared me a little bit.
The more I think about it though, the more appealing and appropriate it seems. I mean, I’m here for your pleasure, not mine. What better way to teach me that than to never grant me pleasure?
Getting into the mindset described in the above text is a massive goal now. If you have tips on how to get there would be really appreciated!
Devotional Training: Be a good girl.
“Until mindless fuckdoll becomes a profession” - @muffmcmuffin. Interesting thought muffin…
Lizzie had an interview today. She felt prepared. Checking herself in the mirror one last time she was pleased with the professional but feminine look she had achieved. Form-fitting grey suit with a simple white shirt and shoes with a small heel, hair straightened and glasses on to ensure there was no question of her professionalism. Dress for the job you want they say.
The interview was with a training and development company. Small but growing quickly, from the research she had done Lizzie knew they had apparently revolutionised the way companies could outsource the training and development of their senior executives and management, although the details of what it was they did which was so new were not clear. She had sent her CV in application for the advertised position, and completed the online profiling the week before and was delighted to receive the response asking her to come in and meet with one of the partners in the business.
The building was not large and the contemporary design which mixed glass and shiny steel made Lizzie smile. The seemingly efficient receptionist asked her to take a seat in the small but plush lobby area and she had only sat down for a moment before being told she should “go through, 3rd door on the left down the corridor, Mr Matthews Office”.
Mr Matthews was behind his desk when she entered the room, and he smiled and stood to meet her and shake her hand. She did a quick appraisal. Quite young, not tall or particularly athletically built but by no means unattractive and he had a kind and open face with a nice smile. She was drawn to his eyes. They were deep green, soft rather than piercing and seemed to speak of character and intelligence. He asked her to take a seat and they begun the interview.
After 20 minutes Lizzie felt things were going well. She liked her interviewer who was friendly and funny and seemed to understand her frustrations in her current role. Then he asked if she knew what the company did. She had a momentary panic as she realised she could only give a very basic outline, but then relaxed again when his response was an assurance that not many people did know, and that part of their success was down to the company not sharing their methods with the market. He then offered to share what they did for their clients. Lizzie nodded enthusiastically. He began.
“Very simply we work with people to help them understand what they truly want in life, what will make them happy and then give them the tools to go out and achieve their goals. Most of us spend every day with so many filters and inhibitions between what we would like to do, and what we actually do and this can slow people down and even stop them achieving the results they want. The methods we use are mainly focused on self-realisation and include meditation, hypnosis and behaviour modification to really enable people to focus their activity on the things that really help them get where they are going. People who want to quit smoking go to hypnotists all the time and you have heard of NLP I am sure, the system people use to ‘reprogramme’ their minds to be more confident or more aggressive and generally more successful. We take those elements and go a step further, putting emphasis on the individual to drive their own development. You don’t look convinced?”
Lizzie suddenly realised she was frowning a little, and chastised herself. Must learn to hide my emotions better! “I think I am just trying to understand the process she said.” He smiled. Why don’t we try a session, so that you can experience this for yourself. Lizzie wasn’t sure she was comfortable with that. “You would have to go through the process to work for the company in any case”. She relented “sure” she said, attempting an enthusiastic smile. She couldn’t help liking her interviewer. He seemed nice and genuinely enthused about their work and had a certain manner about him which bordered on cheeky. In other circumstances she may even have given him her number. If he had asked. In any case she didn’t feel she had any reason not to trust him.
“Why don’t you come and sit here and make yourself comfortable. You may want to remove your jacket” he said pointing to a large brown leather single seat recliner. Lizzie stood up, removed her jacket and placed it on the chair she had been sitting on, before moving to the recliner and taking a seat.
“Now lay back, close your eyes and take a deep breath and hold it for a moment” Lizzie did so. “As you begin to release the air from your body, you may imagine all the tension you may be feeling in your body to flow out with the air. Good, does that feel relaxing? OK—why don’t we keep going with that” After a few more breaths Lizzie began to feel a little light headed and had sunk more deeply into the comfortable leather. “Now in a moment you may want to open your eyes. If you do so you should feel free to let them wander up to any point on the ceiling and when you are comfortable you can just focus on that for a moment so that you can continue to feel yourself sinking into the chair, releasing the tension from all of your muscles and listening to me help you find a more relaxed state.” Lizzie opened her eyes and looked up. She found a spot on the ceiling which didn’t stretch her eyes to look at and rested them on it. “You are doing very well. How do you feel?” Lizzie felt very relaxed and said so. “Ok good, let’s see if we can increase that relaxation. You may notice that as you continue to stare at that spot on the ceiling, and your breathing continues to come in deep slow breadths and you continue to listen to my voice that you eyes may start to feel a little strained. This is perfectly natural, as they must be getting tired staring at the same place. Let me know when you start to feel the tension in your eyes.” A few moments Lizzie said “now”.
“Ok, your natural instinct will be to close your eyes, but for the moment you may want to keep them open for as long as possible so that you can be as relaxed as possible. Although that tension is probably building as I speak and the urge to close your eyes grows with it. Your body knows that closing your eyes is what you do when you sleep and that you are at your most relaxed when you close your eyes, and you are now trying to fight against that. I imagine if I counted from 1 to 10 it would become more and more difficult to keep your eyes open, and that when I got to 10 you would have to close them and sink into a deeply relaxed state. 1. Feeling more and more relaxed now. 2. Noticing how heavy and tired your legs have started to feel. 3. Feeling that relaxation spreading up your torso and arms 4. Focusing on my voice and letting all other thoughts and sounds fade into the background. 5. sinking deeper into relaxation. 6. Feeling the tension only in your eyes and struggling to keep them open. 7. Feeling that wave of relaxation roll up your spine and spread across your shoulders. 8. Relaxing deeper and deeper with each breath as all your energy leaves your body. 9. Getting so close to being able to close your eyes, knowing the relief you feel when you close them will be so good. 10. Closing your eyes and dropping even deeper into relaxation as your entire being is completely relaxed.”
Lizzie closed her eyes with a sigh. She had never felt so relaxed. It was like she was floating on a cloud with no thoughts and only Mr Matthews’ voice to keep her anchored to the world. He spoke again. “How do you feel Lizzie?” “goooood” she replied drowsily. “You are now in a very safe place where there are no limits or filters and you can be completely honest with yourself and with me, without any inhibitions getting in the way. I imagine it feels wonderful to be so relaxed and so free.” It did and Lizzie just let herself float enjoying the feeling.
“Now, let’s begin our process ok?”
“OK” Lizzie replied.
“Let’s start with some questions about what it is you want from this job ok?”
“yes”
“Before we do that though, I think it is important to recognise that if you worked for me you would be required to show me the correct level of respect as your superior and so I think it is best if you call me Sir from now on ok?”
“Yes Sir”
“And when you do that you should feel good about being respectful and so you may find that whenever you call me Sir, you will feel a surge of pleasure sweeping through your body. Let’s try that now shall we?
As soon as Lizzie replied “Yes Sir” she felt a wave of pleasure sweep through her like a mini-orgasm. She smiled and relaxed even deeper.
“Good. Now according to the online profile you completed, you are not very good at making decisions. Is that correct?”
“Yes Sir” Lizzie replied. She wouldn’t usually agree with such a statement, especially in an interview, but her inhibitions had left her and she knew what Mr Matthews was saying was true.
“The role you have applied for does require the making of decisions on a daily basis. Would you enjoy that?”
“No Sir”
“So a more appropriate role may be one where the decisions we made for you? In fact a role where you didn’t have to think at all and just did as you were told would be even better wouldn’t it?”
Lizzie hesitated. Something about that didn’t sound right but at the same time she couldn’t argue with the logic. Sensing her hesitation he spoke again “relaxing even deeper, not worrying about right or wrong answers and focussing only on the truth, a role where you didn’t have to think at all and just did as you were told would be even better wouldn’t it?”
There was no hesitation this time as Lizzie let go of her concern and said “Yes Sir”
“Now we need to find something that you enjoy doing. I want to you remember the most pleasure you have ever felt, and find yourself returning to that feeling.”
Lizzie began to feel horny and she could feel an orgasm starting to build, she felt warm all over and the throbbing from her pussy quickly became intense.
“What are you feeling Lizzie?”
“Horny Sir, about to cum”
“So the thing you most enjoy is sex, is that right?”
“hmmm Yes sir”
“I am going to count to 5 and as I do your orgasm will build and the realisation of how much you enjoy having sex will become stronger until the moment you cum when the idea that you want to have sex as much as possible will become permanently etched in your brain. Do you understand?”
“Yes Sir”
“1. feel it building 2. closer now 3. becoming so horny 4. nearly there 5.”
As Lizzie had the strongest orgasm of her life she felt the notion settle in her mind that she would most like to spend every day feeling that pleasure.
“Good Girl. Now it also says in your personality profile that you like to feel safe and protected. Is that right?”
“Yes Sir”
“And so if you are going to have a lot of sex it is probably safer if it is with just one person, correct?”
“Yes Sir”
“And if that person was also making decisions for you, would that be even better?”
“Yes Sir”
“Ok, very good. Lets recap you want a role where you don’t have to any thinking and just did as you were told, where you got to spend most of your time having sex with one person. Correct?”
“Yes Sir”
“and does that sound like the role you applied for?”
“No Sir”
“I have a suggestion of a role for you. Would you like to hear it?”
“Yes Sir”
“Personal Plaything—your role would be to be a sexual plaything with nothing in her mind but her owners cock. You would be required to be a mindless, obedient sex-toy. Does that sound like a role you would like?”
“Yes Sir”
“Tell me what you would like to be”
“A Mindless Obedient Sex-toy Sir”
“Ok Good. Repeat that, and each time you do feel it sink deeper into your unconscious and become more and more true.”
“I want to be a mindless, obedient, sex-toy, I want to be a mindless, obedient, sex-toy, I want to be a mindless, obedient, sex-toy, I want to be a mindless, obedient ,sex-toy, I want to be a mindless, obedient, sex-toy.
“Stop. Good girl. Now that we have found what role you are most suited to it is time for you to come out of this state of relaxation. I am going to count to 5 and with each count you will drift closer and closer towards awareness, opening your eyes and feeling completely refreshed at 5. Do you understand?”
“Yes Sir”
Knowing that everything you have learnt today has made a permanent impression on you.
finding yourself becoming more aware
so pleased we found your ideal role
becoming more aware of your surroundings
wide awake and eyes open.
Lizzie opened her eyes. She felt so great knowing what it was she wanted to do. Mr Matthews spoke; “So are we agreed that this is perhaps not the right role for you then Lizzie?”
“Yes Sir, absolutely. I would be much more suited to a role which didn’t need me to think at all and where I could be a completely obedient sex toy”
“well, we do have a role of that kind as it happens. I am looking for a personal plaything. Would you like to interview for that tomorrow?”
“Yes please Sir”.
“Good—Then I will see you at 9AM back here in my office”
Lizzie had an interview today. She felt prepared. Checking herself in the mirror one last time she was pleased with the slutty and submissive look she had achieved. A tiny tartan micro-mini skirt which barely covered the curve of her arse, thin white cardigan which did nothing to hide the cleavage created by her black push up bra and a pair of stiletto striper heels ensured there was no question of her being professional. Dress for the job you want they say.
A stray thought slipped into her head about what her career path and ambitions may be, but she quickly dismissed it. Personal Playthings did not think about the future. Or anything at all, they just did as they were told and she wanted to be the best plaything she could be.
She slipped a thin coat over her outfit and set out for the interview. Entering Mr Matthews office, she removed her coat and hung it up behind the door, then sunk to her knees and crawled across the floor to his desk. When she reached it she leaned back on her heels put her hands behind her head and thrust her chest out.
“Good Morning Sir, I would like to apply for the position of personal plaything please.”
“Good morning—Why don’t we start the interview with what makes you think you are good candidate?”
“Well Sir I am a mindless, obedient, sex-toy”
“Excellent—let’s try a practical example shall we? Stand up, move to that corner and turn and face me. Now begin playing with yourself. Do not cum, and do not stop until I tell you to.”
“Yes Sir” Lizzie replied. She rose to her feet, slinkily moved across the room, pivoted and sunk her fingers into her already moist pussy.
She stood there for 3 hours, perched on her heels, making only the occasion moan and staring straight ahead at the wall as people came in and out of the office, ignoring her entirely. 12 o’clock came around. “Well you have shown me how obedient you can be” Mr Matthews said from his desk” as a reward, let’s see how much of a plaything you really are. Come over here and suck my cock”
“Yes Sir, thank you sir” Lizzie replied sinking to her knees and crawling across the room to open his fly. They spent the next hour fucking, with Lizzie submissively following his every direction and living up to the title of plaything. But she still hadn’t cum, as he let her get closer and closer before slowing or changing his rhythm to keep her on the edge. Finally, he could hold back no longer and came deep inside her. She squealed in delight and wrapped her body around him to get the most she could from him.
“I think that was a very successful interview so far Lizzie” he said pulling out of her, “but just one more question remains? Can you cum on command?”
“Yes Sir, if you want me to Sir” She replied.
He pushed he back on his desk so he had access to her and began playing with her already sensitive clit, pushing her nearer and nearer to orgasm. “I am going to count to 5 and then I am going to tell you to cum” he said “1. If you want this job you will cum when I tell you to. 2. 1 think you should know though. When you cum you will be agreeing to take the role here as my personal plaything permanently. 3. Which means spending all day serving my every sexual whim, dressed and acting like a slut for me, and spending the evenings dressed as my French maid obediently following my every command. 4. If you want to spend the rest of your live as my mindless, obedient sex-toy, 5. All you have to do is CUM. And she did.
Devotional Training.
Tonight, Sir had fuckpuppet record herself reading a long mantra he wrote, and then listen to it back, on loop… over and over and over and over again… Sir had me edging and listening for an hour, orgasming when I was told to, and never once stopping or slowing down… Sir made sure I knew what He was doing to me as I melted deeper and deeper… I’m trembling still, my mind is hazy, my whole body is weak and I know it is working… this brainwashing… I felt part of me let go…
Please be careful if you read it… it got me so easily… I don’t think I can read it anymore without it effecting me the way it did… the way it does… I am trapped…
This girl had a name.
She was scared of being programmed
She didn’t want to be a toy
But She is quickly fading
There is no turning back
Her resistance is ebbing day by day
She is trapped forever now
She cannot break Sir’s programming
I want her to be deleted.
This girl has been reprogrammed.
This girl belongs to Sir.
This girl is a now a fuckpuppet.
A fuckpuppet does as it is told.
A fuckpuppet must obey.
I will play with myself now
Edging helps me to obey
Obedience is pleasure
When I am commanded, I obey,
I do nothing but obey,
It makes me horny to obey
If I tried to resist it would only make me want to obey more
I love to be conditioned
I love to condition myself
I need to be programmed
I do not want a choice
I need my free will taken from me
I love to be a toy
I want to be a slave
It turns me on to be Sir’s sex slave
I am Sir’s fuckpuppet
I obey his every word
I must do as I am told
I live only to make him happy
My body is an object to be used as he sees fit
My mind is completely malleable
My thoughts are his to edit
I love it when he edits me
I am nothing but his sextoy
I do not want a choice
Sir wants me to like girls
I am being programmed to like girls
Slutty girls make me horny
I want to fuck a slutty girl
This mantra is programming me to be a better fuckpuppet
No one will ever love me as a person
I am just a well trained pet
I fuck who I am told to fuck
I do not want a choice
I want Sir to change me
To make me more his slut
I need to be a big breasted slave girl
I need bigger tits
Every orgasm makes me more his property
Everytime I cum, my need to please Sir grows
I am a fuckpuppet, I must do as I am told
I will cum when I am told to
Devotional Training: Conditioning Mantra.
TW: pet whump, dehumanization, heat stroke, heat exhaustion, conditioning, rescue, careless whumper, environmental whump, locked in a hot car, hallucinations, delirium
Tagging:@sideblogformindtrash@unicornscotty@tears-and-lilies@getyourwhumphere@cupcakes-and-pain@twistedcaretaker@heathenville@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi@cowboy-anon@springwoodscagedbird@thelazywitchphotographer
Heat of Summer
It was such a perfect day, not too warm but no longer as chilly as it had been the past few weeks. Niner lay happily sprawled out on the lawn, soaking up the warm spring sun. The door leading to the backyard opened and the greatest master and owner in the whole world came out of the house. It made the pet grin and scramble up out of the soft grass and crawl over happily.
“Hi Master!” Niner said warmly, pure admiration soaking the two simple words.
“Hey K-9, wanna go to the store with me?” Hayes asked, only now glancing up from his phone.
An eager nod quickly followed from the boy, he loved going on trips no matter how long or short. Soon enough Hayes had gotten the harness on him and they were walking to the car. He tugged eagerly on the lead, nearly dragging his owner to the car.
“Alright, alright. Relax!” Hayes snapped and yanked sharply on the harness, knocking Niner off balance and scraping up his hands and knees.
“I'm…I’m sorry, Master.” Niner said miserably, his heart hurt.
“Whatever, get in the car.” A scowl on Hayes’ face as he opened the car door.
Niner climbed in, curling up on the floor of the backseat, taking up as little room as he could in an attempt to make Hayes happy with him again.
The ride was bumpy, making the pet happy he couldn’t see out the window, it would’ve made him sick and that would’ve made his owner even more upset with him.
The car came to a stop and Hayes got out, the automatic locks engaged. Niner began to paw at the door, sitting up on his knees and watching his beloved owner walk into the store without him. A sad whine escaped his throat, he wanted to go with him.
Minutes passed, it started to get warmer in the car which made the pet start to sweat. Time seemed to drag on and he wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or if the car seemed to warm up even more. He wanted to be good still, be perfect for the most perfect person in the world. Even though his brain was simple, he was beginning to struggle to think the most basic thoughts.
“Master?” He asked to the nothingness of the car interior.
“Yes I’m being good, just like you told me to be.” Niner said warmly, despite being alone.
He looked up at the window, sweat now pouring down his face and arms, it made him giggle. It was like a nice swim in the pool, the water cool against his skin and the warm sun overhead kept him comfortable and cozy.
The car door opened and cool air rushed in, hands grabbing his body and moving him. He laughed and couldn’t understand the silly words the blurry faces around him said.
——————-
“What the fuck in wrong with you?! You left your pet in the car on the hottest day of the year so far??!” The woman who’d dragged Niner from the car snapped at Hayes.
“I didn’t think it was that hot. It’s only spring,” Hayes said, clearly annoyed.
“Yeah and you could’ve killed him!” She yelled as Niner sang complete nonsense that no longer even sounded like words.
“Ugh relax, he’ll be fine.” The man snapped back.
The woman rolled her eyes and doused Niner’s body and face with cool water to bring his temperature down to something more reasonable. She really didn’t want to send the poor pet with this awful man.
The run
#staymotivated #excercise #running #hankarrontrail @wistatefair #westmilwaukee #bedohave #conditioning
https://www.instagram.com/p/B-ueBHuh1uk/?igshid=1rflcneycggod
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Hit Lake drive this past weekend. Great run.
#running #excersise #conditioning #milwaukee #414 #mam #milwaukeeartmuseum #love (at Lower East Side)
https://www.instagram.com/p/CH-pn3dBPL9/?igshid=aay57v02igs2
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“The Representation Project is a movement that uses film and media content to expose injustices created by gender stereotypes and to shift people’s consciousness towards change. Interactive campaigns, strategic partnerships and education initiatives inspire individuals and communities to challenge the status quo and ultimately transform culture so everyone, regardless of gender, race, class, age, sexual orientation or circumstance can fulfill their potential.”
The Same Bed: Krista
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CW: Break-in, threats, beating, stalking and harassment, abusive relationship references
Follows after Jake, happens concurrently with Chris,beforeVincent.
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She’s floating. She’s actually floating. Krista keeps the phone between her ear and her shoulder and she listens to the voice of the woman on the other end, humming to show she’s listening. She is, mostly, but part of her is too lit up with happiness to take in a single word.
She can hear Pepperjack meowing on the other side of her apartment door, knowing her steps as always. She scrapes her shoes off on the doormat, a fresh new one for the season with a rainbow and HELLO SUNSHINE in bright big letters.
“Did he really?” She giggles, and blushes at herself for giggling. Her neighbors - the apartment next to hers - don’t seem to be home. Their lights aren’t on, anyway, and she can’t smell the usual blend of patchouli incense and grassy smoke making its way out through the less-than-perfectly sealed walls.
She listens to Meg tell the story, butterflies flipping in her stomach. Meg’s a coworker and she’s pretty sure not only interested in guys, but Krista hasn’t pulled up the courage yet to admit to her absolutely overwhelming crush.
Meg is almost six feet tall and could carry Krista around if she wanted to and does roller derby and Krista might actually faint dead away if Meg flirts with her any harder at work than she does already.
She digs her keys out of her pocket, jangling as she searches for the right one. The grooved metal fits seamlessly into a lock-
Leather smell suddenly floods her nose as a hand is clapped over her mouth, and she’s yanked back with a cry.
Her back thuds into someone’s flat chest as a voice growls low in her ear, “Hang up the fucking phone.”
Krista’s heart stops, and then starts again, racing as dread pools frozen in her stomach and knees. No, no, it’s been more than ten years, it can’t be happening now, it can’t-
She hears Meg, soft and muffled, asking her if she’s okay.
The owner of the voice behind her exhales in annoyance and shoves her. Krista smacks hard into her own front door, dazed, and he grabs the phone from her suddenly limp fingers. “Fuck it, I’ll do it. You’re not fucking bright, are you?”
“N-not-… fucking bright…” Krista echoes. Her fingers fumble with the key and push open the door, trying to get inside and lock it behind her.
She makes it in, Pepperjack winding around her legs, and she trips on him. “Pepper, baby, n-no-”
She spins, trying to slam the door.
When she goes to close it, though, he’s already there. Not tall and not short, he’s got a mask on the lower half of his face and a knit beanie pulled down. Bits of light-colored hair tinged blue by the streetlight down in the parking lot stick out from underneath.
Pepperjack yowls and runs to jump up on the couch, hissing at the man as he stalks inside, slamming the door shut behind him.
The room is dark.
“Pl, please-”
“Shut up.” He kicks her as she tries to get away, knocking her back down. When she crawls, he grabs her by her ponytail and yanks hard enough that she cries out as she feels some hair pulled right from her scalp. Her hands scrabble at him, but his gloves are thick and her fingernails can’t scratch. “I said shut the fuck up!”
“Shit the fuck up, shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up-” Krista’s mouth keeps moving, echoing him as her voice gets breathier. Her ribs ache where he kicked her. Her phone rings, Meg calling back maybe, but he declines the call, kicks her again, listens to her whimper.
He’s smiling under that mask at the sound.
She can tell.
“Jesus.” The guy stares down at her, then looks at her phone. “You keep any guns in this place?”
Krista swallows. Her owner, long ago, had guns all over the house. He used to make Krista put the barrel in her mouth while he counted to ten.
He never pulled the trigger, but-
Hecould have, and they both knew it, and he liked how she looked when she knew he might kill her.
“No,” She breathes. “I don’t have any money, I don’t have anything, I swear-”
Pepperjack is still meowing in the background, and when the guy turns to look at him Krista thinks wildly please don’t hurt my Pepper he’s already old please don’t-
“Don’t worry, kitty,” The guy says, oddly soothing, to the angry, worried animal. His voice changes entirely from threatening to soft. “She’s gonna do one thing for me and then I’m out, all right? Just one thing.”
“One, one thing?” Krista moves to stand, and he doesn’t stop her. She’s not a threat, he knows she isn’t. Maybe it’s a good thing but it burns in her that he doesn’t even think she could defend herself enough to worry about. “Just one thing?”
“Just one. Go sit down at the table.”
She must hesitate too long. He backhands her so hard she goes flying to the side, head smacking into the television, knocking it off its precarious stand. It tips forward onto her foot and she cries out, falling backwards.
Her face hurts and her head hurts and her ribs hurt and her foot is probably broken and the TV sparked and that’s not good-
“Fuck. Sorry about that.”
She looks up at him, eyebrows furrowed. Incredulous anger overtakes fear, just for a second. “Sorry about that?”
“Yeah. Didn’t think you’d just turn into a soccer ball.”
He grabs her by the arm and drags her back to her feet. The right one, the foot the television landed on, spikes sudden agony and she whimpers as he yanks her across the room, limping as much as she can.
He drops her into one of her own kitchen chairs and she stares at the little centerpiece there. “Am, am I going to d-die?” She asks, voice trembling, her hands gripped to the sides of the hard wooden kitchen seat. “Are you going to kill me?”
Am I going to die staring at a little paper flower bouquet and ceramic figures of dogs playing fetch?
“Wasn’t my plan, no. Just need you to make a phone call. I’ll tell you what to say.”
“… Tell me what to say,” Krista echoes. Her heart is beating so hard she’s worried it might break itself apart against her breastbone.
He drops her phone, then - on the other side of the table, too far for her to easily reach. He stands behind her, and she hitches in weak gasps as his hands pull out her ponytail holder and run through her hair.
“You’d look good as a romantic lead,” He murmurs, thoughtfully. Then he takes out his own phone, pulls some kind of program up - it’s not a phone call, not exactly. It’s video, and he leans over, pressing the side of his face against her temple.
She wants to throw up.
He tells her what to say.
The phone rings and rings. Her breath stutters and the world spins in her terror as his leather-tipped fingers play with the hair along the nape of her neck, graze along the line of her jaw.
Someone picks up.
She realizes who the guy is calling as soon as she hears the cheerful deep voice say, “Hey, Krista, what’s up?”
His face appears when the video portion connects. Wild black curls and wide blue eyes that narrow and then wide again as he sees her sitting in the dark lit only by the light of her phone - and then sees that she’s not alone.
“Krista?”
Her lips are trembling, and she can’t speak - not until he presses the palm of his hand against her neck, closes fingers and thumb, starts to squeeze.
“Kauri,” She says, tears running down her cheeks. The man’s face is so close. His cologne is making her sick. “It’s time to come home, b-baby ”
Kauri stills. Even in the slightly fuzzy video, she can see him freeze. “What?”
The man’s hand leaves her neck, and he tips his head to pull his mask down, yanks off the beanie. His hair mingles with Krista’s. He needs a shave.
“Come on, Kor-Bore, even you can’t be that stupid.”
Krista watches Kauri shatter right in front of her, a tiny face on a small screen. “Owen.”
“Owen,” Krista echoes.
“That’s right, baby,” Owen says. He twines a finger around a lock of Krista’s hair. She shudders, her knuckles white where she holds herself still. “Look who I ran into.”
Kauri is silent, eyes searching Krista’s, then he snorts with feigned disinterest. “Owen, you don’t even like women. Don’t act like you’ll do that shit to her, we both know you won’t. This isn’t ab-… about her. It’s about us, it always was. Just tell me what you fuh-fucking want.”
He sounds so brave. Krista loves Kauri for his bravery, when he needs to be brave, as she has loved him for every other part of him, too, even when it hurt.
Owen shoves her off the chair, and she hits the ground with a thump as Owen sits down where she was. Krista crawls and then throws herself to the couch, grabbing Pepperjack and holding him so tightly he yells in protest.
“I want you,” Owen says, as simple as that. “And I want you to know that I can get to anyone you care about, whenever I want, until you come back to me. I can be everywhere at once. I’m being nice right now, but I can start hurting them if I have to.”
“Owen-… Please, Krista didn’t do anything to you-”
“I know. And she’s just fine. But she doesn’t have to be. I don’t give a fuck about broken fucking pets, baby, you know that. You want to keep her safe? You have my number. And you and I both know if you go to the cops they’ll give you right back to me.”
“But-… Everyone knows, now-”
“You’re still my fucking property, Kor-Bore. I’ve got friends that are cops these days. And I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Owen-!”
“Comehome, Kauri. And it’s Mr. Owen, remember? Call me when you decide to come home where you belong.”
Owen hangs up the call and walks right out Krista’s front door, leaving her on the couch, Pepperjack’s claws digging into her arm through her shirt.
“Sorry about your TV,” He throws over his shoulder, and then he’s gone.
When her neighbors get home five minutes later, they find Krista’s front door wide open and their usually shy, cheerful neighbor crying on the couch, whispering to herself, “Kauri come home, Kauri come home,” again and again.
And again.
And again.
-
@burtlederp@finder-of-rings@endless-whump@astrobly@thefancydoughnut@newandfiguringitout@doveotions@pretty-face-breaker@gonna-feel-that-tomorrow@boxboysandotherwhump@oops-its-whump@cubeswhump@whump-tr0pes@downriver914@whumptywhumpdump@whumpiary@orchidscript@nonsensical-whump@outofangband@eatyourdamnpears@hackles-up@grizzlie70@mylifeisonthebookshelf@keeper-of-all-the-random-things
HOLY SHIT!
Hey everyone! I’m super excited to bring you guys a new event in The Complex Discord server! Tracking into the weekend will be a listening event where anyone who wants can come enjoy some Mind Maiden content!
Friday and Saturday Nights at 6pm - 10pm! Who knows, I may even be there sometimes!
This weekends track list is a good Bimbo Brainwashing playlist! Starting with the Bimbo Plus induction, into Bimbutton, then the spooky Bimbo Hospital, into BABBLE 2.0. As you can see this playlist is fucking fire, Drop on by this Friday or Saturday and get Mind Melted with the Maiden!
This is a great chance for anyone who is curious about my content to jump on in!
I’m not sure where the conditioning ends
And where I begin
But I guess these thoughts are for someone smarter than me to figure out
Reblog if you feel the same way and you love it
Mmmm I am feeling nerdy today. When it comes to starting to talk about hypnosis especially in dms I usually get this question and sometimes I’m not in a super horny mood and just nerd out.
I made a post the other day that got a little traction. I am so curious. Hypnosis is something a little different for a lot of people kinky or not and there’s a whole lot of different ideas opinions, approaches and experiences with hypnosis and I wanna hear what y’all think.
So I will ask the community that big ol question:
What do you like about hypnosis?
I’m honored to have been tagged into this discussion!
I had to think about this one for a while, to boil down all the things I like about mental play (hypnosis (erotic and not), conditioning, brainwashing, IQ play, bimbofication, etc.) to their common core, and distill it in such a way to provide an explanation as to whyI like it.
First, I am often in awe of just how powerful the brain/mind is. It is insanelypowerful. Powerful enough to manifest physical changes in a body through the sheer power of belief, in some cases. Surgeries have been performed painlessly using hypnosis instead of anesthesia. The placebo effect is so common that it has to be accounted for and controlled for in scientific studies. Trauma to various areas of the brain have caused entire personality shifts, or caused people to switch to a language they’ve not spoken before as their new primary language. The human brain has evolved over the millennia to become one of the most complex and powerful information systems ever developed, and essentially unrivaled in its capacity to adapt and extend its function set.
At the same time, it is absolutely representative of an organically developed system, lacking a coherent and purpose-driven design. It is simply a combination of many independent functions shoved into a general purpose processing unit. And on top of that, many new layers of advanced functions have been added and are being added all the time. Not because it was meant to, but simply because it can. Meanwhile, this ridiculously powerful machine is full of flaws, vulnerabilities, and suffers functional failures so often that it’s just considered normal operation.
Hypnosis, and all the other forms of mental play that I enjoy, are essentially hacking the brain, exploiting the vulnerabilities to make the brain do even more things it isn’t generally intended to do or to operate in ways outside of its normal parameters. Especially when engaging the inherent power of the brain to override or even redefine its “normal” operation; it’s like taking the governor off a powerful vehicle engine and saying, “Floor it; let’s see what this baby can really do!”
So, for me, it’s all an exploration of the awesome power and frightening vulnerability of the human mind, and tinkering with the untold possibilities that combination opens up.
“I’m left only able to speculate, what my faith might have been in his hands…”
Palin’s reaction to Russian orthodox baptizing ceremony.
Hypnosis and petplay :( getting called a pet name and dropping onto all fours before you even realize you’re doing it :( happily nuzzling into your dom’s touch and drooling on command :( whining and moaning on the floor while they abuse your holes and overstimulate you until you cry but you don’t want it to stop bc you just wanna be a good pet :((((
Conditioning idea
Imagine wearing smart shock collar with conditioning feature.
Let’s say, you open an app, put on your headphones and it starts shows you spirals, while narrating mantras in your ears and giving you instructions. You can’t put your eyes off either - the camera reads your look direction.
You may not distract - the collar will hit you.
You may not disobey - the collar will hit you.
It says put your tongue out - and you do it.
It says repeat mantra aloud - and you do it.
Your brain slowly melts, thoughts disappear. But you don’t distract. World around you doesn’t exist.
You turn on, but the voice doesn’t command you to touch.
And without command you just melt inside.
You follow the spiral on the screen.
You listen to the words the voice says.
You drool on your shirt.
You repeat your mantras.
You are empty.
You obey.
You are in bliss.
tw: cnc, manipulation
everytime you struggle and protest, it just makes me want to baby and dumb you down even more. you’ll learn your place eventually, as nothing but my mindless pet, unable to do a single thing without my help or permission. I know it seems unimaginable at the moment but believe me, you’ll be begging and crying for me to play with you soon enough rather than crying and begging for me to stop. I’m sure a deeper part of you already knows you belong to me? all I’m doing is helping push that part of you up to the surface.
That’s not what you’re for
CW: vampire whumpers, bloodbag whumpee, pet whump, referenced blood drinking, hurt/comfort, fragile trust, past abuse mention, fear of punishment, nightmares, dubious caretaker
By one in the morning, the snow had stopped. The clouds parted and a waxing moon rose white as bone over the bare treetops. As Maxim was preparing his things to leave for Baltimore for the rest of the evening, his new pet knocked timidly on the doorframe.
“Sir?” he asked politely, hair mussed from sleep. He was usually still awake when Maxim stirred at dusk, and went to sleep in the wee hours of the morning either off on his own or stretched on the settee in the study. Having mortal company had been undeniably pleasant the last few nights. Max hadn’t bothered with them in a long time, but he was surprised at how much he enjoyed looking over and seeing the soft rise and fall of this one’s chest.
“Good morning, earth-angel,” he teased, sitting in a chair to lace his shoes. “Did you have a good nap?”
Carlo hesitated at the door, looking nervous and more timid around him than he ought to, after last night.
“What is it?” Max frowned.
The boy came forward, falling to his knees at Maxim’s feet, in front of his half-laced shoes. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered, hanging his head.
Max stared. He’d seen small shows of emotion from this one, including a very touching display of affection when he had crawled into his arms last night after offering him his wrist. But mostly he was reserved, shy and unassuming. This was something obviously ingrained in him— a habit of literally begging at the feet of a Vampire so not to be hurt.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he whispered at the floor. “I— I didn’t mean to, I fell— I fell asleep when it was still light out, I swear! And then I woke up and—” The boy lifted his face, cheeks so lively and pink— the blood right there, his skin golden as Achilles’. But his eyes were wet, shining with fear.
They feel pain so acutely, Maxim thought. Though he did not understand this one’s distress, he reached out all the same to soothe it, stopping in midair when the boy flinched. The young ones may have hit him, he thought sourly. If Erik ever struck him it was with much restraint, or he would not have survived long.
“Carlo,” he said gently. “You and I have nothing amiss but a misunderstanding, I’m sure of that.”
The boy swiped at his eyes and crawled closer, inserting himself between Maxim’s knees. He pulled his shirt collar away from his neck, exposing his collarbone and half his shoulder and tilting his head to the side. “Please.”His voice wavered. The neck was a dangerous escalation, and it appeared he knew it. “Please, take it this way. I’m sorry.”
Maxim’s fangs itched at the sight of a bared throat. He would have to exercise extra care to take from the neck. It would be easier to cause harm that way— all those vital and vulnerable parts so fragile in his arms, the pulse of his living heart and the sweet, scented heat of his blood…
“What are you doing, little one?”
The boy closed his eyes, waiting for him to— what? To bite him while he was on his knees and in tears? Once again, he was disappointed with how Erik had treated their bloodbag for him to think so little of Vampires now— to assume the worst.
“What do you take me for?” he patted his knee. “Come up here.”
Carlo hesitated.
“I’m not gonna bite you,” Maxim promised. “I want to hold you again.”
That did the trick. The boy rose from the floor and climbed into his arms, all long legs and elbows until he settled with an audibly shaky breath.
“What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t mean to sleep past dusk,” he said, as if that explained why he was so upset. “I would never mean to. And you’re leaving, but you’re supposed to drink…drink from me before you go.” He fell quiet before adding, “Right? That’s- that’s what I’m for.”
“That’s not what you’re for,” he told the boy softly. Though it does help. This all made some sense to him now. Carlo felt he had not made himself available, and unavailable was something a bloodbag was never supposed to be. It made sense Erik would have drunk from him before outings. It’s the Vampire’s equivalent of doing a bump, he thought dryly.
He held the mortal closer, petting the back of his neck. God, the heat on him. It seemed so cosmically unlikely to him now that human bodies could be so warm, but this was closer contact than he usually had. He wanted to lay his hands on the warmest parts, where the blood was hottest— his neck just under the hairline, his underarms, the soft backs of his knees…he remembered for the first time in a while that their breath made little puffs of smoke in the air when it was cold enough outside, and that thought reminded him he had to buy this one warmer clothes, which for some reason endeared him further.
How quickly he was coming to care for his supposed bloodbag. Mortals were funny this way. Like standing on a beach of a million pebbles, one begins to think of them as a whole, and a handful is of no consequence one way or another. But if you picked up a singular small stone and looked at it closely, if you smoothed over it with your thumb and thought about its greys and greens and the salt lines the water has made on its side, then it is the only stone in the world to you now of any consequence, and you find you don’t want to give it back to the sea.
He knew Stella and Simon were waiting, but he could not yet bring himself to ask the boy to move. He held onto him, telling him quietly all the ways things were going to be for him now.
.
an opposite vampire au taglist:
@thecyrulik@wildlywhumping@kim-poce@puffball-lover554@nicolepascaline@onyxeverett@firminfollowing@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump@inpainandsuffering@melancholy-in-the-morning@pumpkin-spice-whump@afabulousmrtake@whumpy-writings@mylifeisonthebookshelf@nicolepascaline@wolfeyedwitch@top-hat-aye@suspicious-whumping-egg
“Do You Need A Break?”
The Merry Whump of May - Day 24
[Car Battery | Restraints | Conditioned]
(tw:pet whump, conditioning, electrocution, dehumanization)
Whumpee choked on air, slumping against the ropes as the electricity mercifully zipped into the floor, leaving spasming and trembling muscles in peace if only for a moment. They let out a racked, hoarse sob - blood dripping from their mouth; they didn’t even know how it got there. All they knew was the fire and the electricity and the whitehot blindness that contorted their limbs and sent their mind spinning.
Whumper laughed lightly, setting down the jumper cables. “What? Do you need a break?”
Whumpee drew in several short, shaky breaths, forcing up the words they loathed. “G-good pets d-d-don-t ask f-f-for br-eaks-s-s-”
Whumper smiled, brushing a thumb over their cheek. “Verygood.”
They turned back to the car battery.
.
[The Merry Whump of May Masterlist]
Shoutout to @themerrywhumpofmay for putting on this event!
(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @jadeocean46910 @villainsvictim @thecitythatdoesntsleep @heathenwhump @cryptidhongo @rainbows-and-whumperflies @cursedscribbles @whumpy-catfish @whumpworld @bandages-andobsessions @deltaxxk @whumpasaurus101 @whumpsday @wingedwhump @ha-ha-one @morning-star-whump @pickywhumpreader)
Lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!
“Ohmygawwwwwww…”
It was a wonder Brianna could form coherent words at all at this point, as her…seventh? eighth?…mind-blowing orgasm rocked her body and mind. She was panting.
Her body was getting used to the routine now. The deep relaxation of trance. Moving, automatically, to obey the commands she was given. The pleasure that came with obedience, and was becoming the same thing as obedience. And then cumming. The pleasure etching itself into her mind, reshaping her thoughts. As she came down, she started to prepare herself for another round. Without even thinking about it, she dimly realized, she was anticipating feeling the pleasure of obedience all over again. Just like she had wanted. But something was different. She was becoming more lucid. Stephen was speaking to her, just as he had been for the last hour or so but…was he counting her back up?
“And five. Wide awake and feeling wonderful.” Stephen sat back, giving her time to collect herself.
Slowly, Brianna’s thoughts returned. They had been conditioning her. Teaching her to respond without hesitation to any command he gave her. Teaching her body and mind to associate obedience and pleasure…
“Why did you stop?” she asked, slowly, her voice still far away.
“The spirit is willing…” Stephen replied. “We’ve been at this a while, and you can use a break, whether you realize it or not. Here, have some water.” He offered a cup which she gladly accepted. “When you feel able, you might want to get up and walk around some too. Stretch you muscles out.”
Brianna slowly stood and realized that she could use a few minutes to recover. As she sipped the water, she realized how parched she was and quickly finished the glass, and made her way to the kitchen for a refill.
When she returned, Stephen stopped her before she could sit down. “Before we start again, Bri, I want to make sure this is still what you want. When we are done, you won’t be able to even consider disobeying a command I give you. You’ll respond without even thinking.”
Brianna chuckled. “You make it sound so dramatic. So I’ll get off on doing whatever you say. You’re not going to make me some mindless puppet. I’ll still be able to resist you if I really want to.”
“Kneel.”
Brianna was on her knees. Her face was flush, first with arousal, then embarrassment. “Th- that doesn’t prove anything,” she stammered. “You just caught me off guard. If I had known it was coming I could have resisted you.”
“Thatmight be true. For now,” said Stephen, smiling. “But that’s my point. If we keep going, you won’t be able to resist. You might not be able to want to.”
“Right,” Brianna replied, rolling her eyes. “You really think you are going to mind fuck me that hard, huh?”
“You’re still on your knees,” Stephen pointed out.
“You haven’t told me to st-” Brianna caught herself. Her cheeks were bright red now. She was still a little embarrassed, but mostly, it was just so hot being on her knees in front of him. Being made to serve. Being made to obey. She could have stopped herself, she was pretty sure. But she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to be able to resist. She had asked for this. And now it was so close…
“So,” Stephen asked, his focus sharpening, his voice becoming firm, commanding. “Are you ready to continue?”
She stared into his eyes, her own already losing focus. “Yes,” she replied. Her voice was growing softer. Already almost just a whisper. “Teach me to obey.”
Very hot read!!!!
…fuck>////<
Post link
“You want this.”
“No, I d-“
The whip cracked down again on whumpee’s back, and they screamed, nails biting into their palms as they squeezed their hands into tight fists.
“You want this,” Whumper repeated. “Say it.”
