mozart-goes-woof

[mozart-goes-woof]

extremely evocative textbook diagram

[mozart-goes-woof]

Throat fucking with tongue is such an underrated monster/beast kink though. Like god, just someone choking and gagging as their partner's tongue squirms deeper and deeper, drool just absolutely everywhere, their eyes rolling back as their oxygen is cut off. . . . . .

[mozart-goes-woof]

Wiiiiish I had slutty friends to loan my dog out to but noooooo all my friends live across the damn country, wanna have a domme party where he's one of the party favors

[mozart-goes-woof]

Wiiiiish I had slutty friends to loan my dog out to but noooooo all my friends live across the damn country, wanna have a domme party where he's one of the party favors

[mozart-goes-woof]

Look at me, darling.

Look at my eyes.

Listen to my voice.

Feel my hand on your cheek.

I want you to relax. I want you to look at me, listen to me, feel me. That's all you need to do.

All you need to do.

Anything other than that is unnecessary right now.

Look at me. Listen to me. Feel me.

No need to perceive anything else. Only me.

I'm your world. Your everything.

I'm all there is.

Look at me. Listen to me. Feel me.

My eyes staring into yours. So beautiful, so easy to stare into, to sink into.

My voice weaving suggestions into that pretty little head of yours, so soothing, so gentle.

My left hand feeling your cheek, caressing it softly, my right hand on your head, running along your hair.

It feels nice.

Isn't it so calming, darling? So comfortable?

Look at me. Listen to me. Feel me.

Only me.

There's nothing else, darling. Nothing other than you and me. So just look into my eyes. Listen to my voice. And let my hands oh so gently caress you.

Every part of me guiding you, dear.

Guiding you into a nice, comfortable trance.

I'm all there is. All you need.

Listen to me, darling. Just listen, and stare, and feel, and sink for me. Gently. I'm not going to drop you, I'm not going to force you down, I'm just going to guide you. And you're going to follow along.

Because it feels so nice to listen.

It feels so relaxing.

You want to keep listening.

Your mind wants to follow.

And it will follow, dear.

Look at me. Listen to me. Feel me.

You're doing very well, aren't you? Nod for me.

It feels good to listen, to follow, doesn't it?

So calming. You're barely holding yourself upright, darling.

But I'm right here. You'll keep yourself upright, okay?

I know you're barely there anymore, but just hold onto your strength.

Just for a few moments longer.

You like to follow.

It feels comfortable to follow.

To let me guide you.

So that's what you're going to do from here, okay?

You just need to listen to me. To see me. To feel me.

That's all you need.

That's what matters most, dear.

And you can do that without thinking, dear.

It's relaxing to listen. Maybe even a bit too relaxing. It makes it so hard to stay awake. I bet you can barely keep your eyes open anymore, isn't that right, darling?

So in a few moments, we'll just...

Let them close.

Sink for me, darling.

Towards me.

Towards my embrace.

Let those last remaining vestiges of consciousness fade away, my dear.

And let yourself sink for me.

Into my arms.

Don't worry darling, you'll still hear every word of my voice, even if you don't remember it later.

But when you're back, you'll be a very good toy for me, won't you?

Good thrall. I can't wait for you to see what you've become once you're awake, my darling.

[mozart-goes-woof]

The desire to drug my pet with libido enhancers and leave them tied in the corner, whiny and leaking with mitts on so they can't touch a damn thing... overwhelming, honestly

[mozart-goes-woof]

tell me that every time you tap-tap on my forehead, a little more of my brain shuts off. tell me how you use it to make me stupid, and desperate, and so, so horny. tap-tap when you fuck me, to build the association. tell me.

and when you're sure it works, use it.

we could be anywhere, but let's say i'm at yours. it's still light out and we're both sat on your bed, just talking about nothing. you ask me to repeat what i just said but before i can answer, tap-tap. i stutter out something, breathless. aww, that's cute, but not quite right, you say. try again? tap-tap. my face is heating up. you laugh, telling me i'm cute when i blush. tap-tap. i start to giggle and you ask me why i'm laughing. i have to say i don't remember. you tell me don't worry about it as you spin me round and push me down on the covers, making sure to tap-tap on the way. i won't be thinking anything at all soon.

[mozart-goes-woof]

just wanna be corrupted n ruined methodically by a pretty girl like you<3

I would love to corrupt you<3 would love to force you to do things for me. Would love to suffocate you b3tw33n my th!ghs. Would love to k!ss you until you can't breathe. Would love to coax you into doing things against your will... Would love to make you get into nastier and nastier things. Would love to turn you into a 24/7 p3rv just for me<3

[mozart-goes-woof]

Not today, but…

“What was that?” Max asked. The climax had been so unexpected and so intense that it had taken him several minutes to be able to collect himself enough to speak again.

“A sexual climax, also known as an orgasm,” the machine explained.

“I know that!” Max exclaimed as the lasers blinked and the headset hummed. “But why—ooohhh!!”

He shuddered as another orgasm hit. There was no buildup, no warning, no anticipation, just sudden, blinding, mindless ecstasy.

“The orgasm recorded during the brain scan in phase one is being replayed and applied to the subject’s brain,” the machine explained as Max tried to catch his breath. “Mind wipe at 5%.”

“What’s…the point of th—Oh my God!” He gripped the edges of the mattress to steady himself as he came a third time.

“Orgasm activates many areas of the brain associated with memory while also shutting down areas responsible for logic and decision making. This makes it an ideal brain state in which to perform a mind wipe procedure. Mind wipe at 9% percent.”

Blank edges were starting to show up in the edges of Max’s memory. He pushed against them. “But I’m not supposed to be brainwashed today,” he muttered. He tried to sit up. “I have…things. To be at—mmmmmpph!!”

“The subject will not attempt to resist,” the machine said firmly.

“I will comply,” Max replied. He relaxed once more into the raised portion of the mattress, an odd calm washing over him, and moaned as the climax sang through him yet again.

“Mind wipe at 12%. The subject is unable to resist.”

“I am unable to resi”—Max’s eyes rolled back and his mouth fell open in a long sigh. He thought he understood why people signed up for this. This was better than sex, better than any drug he’d ever tried.

“Didn’t…sign up for this. Can’t say I’m not having fun, though,” he said.

The lasers suddenly shut down and the headset went quiet. The empty spaces at the edges of Max’s mind started to fill back in.

“Does the subject understand what is being done to him?” the machine asked.

Max lay panting in a haze of afterglow. So that was the way to get it to stop? It was that way the whole time?

“You’re erasing my mind,” he said. He blinked. “I’m in stage three of the oracle conversion process. I’m having my mind wiped and will be reprogrammed.”

“Does the subject want the procedure to stop?” the machine asked.

Max thought for a moment.

On the one hand, he did have a lot to get done this week. He vaguely recalled certain commitments. He knew he didn’t sign up for this.

On the other hand—

“No, actually,” he said. To his surprise, he meant it. “Not really.”

“Acknowledged,” the machine said.

The lasers and headset fired back up, and Max came so hard he saw stars.

“Oh God,” he moaned. When the orgasm faded he gripped the edge of the headboard and began rocking his hips against the mattress as though the friction and pleasure would keep the procedure going. He needed a break, and this was going to be one hell of a break.

“Mind wipe back at 10%,” said the machine.

“Good—hmmm—reason to miss work, right? Sorry boss, couldn’t make that meeting, got droned by my hotel room—oh! Oh!”

“Mind wipe at 30%. The subject will allow his mind to become blank.”

“Yes!” he cried. “YES! Don’t stop—erase my mind—don’t stop!”

“Mind wipe at 45%”

“So good—ah—erasing my mind—so good—feels so good—ah—ah!!”

“Mindwipe at 60%”

“AH!!”

Max bucked against the mattress with as much abandon as having his head locked in the headset would allow. He couldn’t remember having checked into the hotel or why, but that didn’t matter. Nothing else but this mattered. He was made for nothing except cumming his mind away. He was the machine’s, and it could do with him as it wished.

“Mind wipe at 80%. The subject’s mind is almost blank,” the machine said.

“Blank—ah!—mind—yes,” Max whined. His universe existed in the space between climaxes.

“Mind wipe at 95%.”

“Yes!” There was nothing before this. There never had been.

“Mind wipe at 100%. Finalizing.”

The subject arched as one last burst of ecstasy thrust into his brain, burned, and left it empty. When it was over he fell satisfied against the mattress and waited to be filled.

“Complete. The subject’s mind has been wiped clean and memory erased,” the machine said.

A panel opened in the chamber below the subject’s face to reveal two small, round screens. The headset shifted, too, pulling back to reveal a series of small bulbs pressed into his temples.

“Initiating reprogramming sequence. The subject will look into the panel below.”

“I will comply,” the subject said, and he did so.

There was a sudden, pleasant electric buzz from the headset as the screens of the panel flashed on and bored directly into his eyes with an intense blue light. But the subject didn’t blink or look away; there was nothing in him but obedience and the need to keep looking.

“Modulating and applying stage one scan at low intensity,” the machine said. Though the subject didn’t ask, it added, “This will assists the subject’s mind in accepting new data.”

A mild, deep, rolling pleasure rang through the subject, and didn’t stop. And still the subject kept staring into the twin blue beams of light as directed. There was information in that light; it poured into him, filling the empty spaces, the headset etching it into the folds of his brain, and telling him what he was supposed to be.

“The subject will accept their programming,” the machine said.

“I…,” the subject began. There was so much, almost too much to ever hold, and still it came flooding into him. He never wanted it to stop. This was his purpose. The machine was filling him with what he was meant to be. “The subject complies. Programming acknowledged and accepted.”

“Reprogramming complete. What is the subject?”

“The subject has been reprogrammed. The subject is a component of the oracle service. The subject is one of many,” the subject said in a flat tone laced at the edges with a strange euphoria.

“Correct. Now moving into finalization. The subject will experience an amplified, extended climax and neural manipulation to lock in the conversion. Once conversion is finalized, the subject will be issued a designation and will remain an oracle component for the duration of scheduled service. Acknowledge.”

“Yes. The subject will be fully converted.”

“Good. Finalization in ten, nine, eight”—

The subject leaned into the beams of light, as though that would make the countdown run faster.

—“seven, six, five”—

The subject could hardly breathe for anticipation. The subject was going to be made complete. The subject would be fully converted. Every newly installed subroutine in his mind told him that he should want nothing more.

—“four, three, t”—

There was a muffled shouting, a whirring, and the lights went dark. The subject blinked.

“Error. Emergency shutdown of conversion process activated. Restoring subject.”

“But the conversion must be finalized,” the subject said as the lights around him flashed. It was all he would say for several minutes.

It was about an hour and much flashing and buzzing later when the machine reverted back to being a completely normal bed, and a very perturbed Max rolled over to see a harried looking hotelier standing over him.

***

“Again, we can’t apologize enough for the mistake,” the woman at the front desk was saying. “It looks like the room was originally scheduled for someone who had signed up for oracle service. He cancelled at the last minute and you booked right after, and we didn’t alter the booking type.”

Max leaned against the counter. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” he said with a dismissive wave. “These things happen.”

“But”—

“Really. No harm done,” Max insisted.

The woman at the desk stapled Max’s checkout paperwork with a clack. “Are you sure? Anything we can do to make up for it?”

Max grinned. “As a matter of fact, yes,” he said. “I’ve made some arrangements with work and I’d like to rebook. For an actual conversion, on purpose this time. Six months service. But can you split the procedure up over a three day stay? I want to stretch it out a little.”

The woman at the desk stared for a moment, and then turned to her computer.

“Yes,” she said, “we can do that.”

Link to part one. Link to part two. Link to part three.

[mozart-goes-woof]

Probably Today

“Allotted break time complete. The subject will return to the bed for phase two.”

“Yes. I will comply.”

Max had crossed the room and sat down on the bed before he could stop himself. A job well done on the machine’s part, he supposed.

“The subject will lie down,” the machine said.

Max glanced at the bedside clock, saw it read 4:03 am, and laid down where he sat, horizontally across the bed. The machine hadn’t specified where to lay down, after all, and every minute delay helped.

“The subject will rotate 90 degrees.”

“I will comply.” Max rolled over onto his side.

“The subject will rotate 90 degrees on his local y axis.”

“I will comply,” Max repeated. He laughed. He shifted so that he was laying with his feet against the headboard and his head dangling off the edge of the bed.

This routine went on for a good twenty minutes, the machine giving directions and Max obeying them with frustrating exactness.

“The subject will lie on the bed so that he is lying in the center, lengthwise, parallel to the edges of the bed, with his cranium closer to the headboard than any other part of his body,” the machine said with a tinny wail.

“I will comply,” Max said in a sing-song voice. He did as the machine said—lying face down. He knew it would get him into the correct position eventually, but in the meantime there was nothing much it could do about malicious compliance.

Just then, the bed lurched. The central portion lifted, so that he was lying with his legs and arms dangling a little, and then moved forward into a panel of the headboard that slid suddenly open. The part of the mattress on which his head was lying folded away to reveal a small round chamber, maybe two feet across, lined with what looked like hundreds of tiny lightbulbs.

Nothing much but that.

“The subject will not attempt to change positions,” the machine said.

“I—will comply,” Max gasped without being able to stop himself. He wondered, as one metal arch rose from the floor to cradle his forehead and another claw from what he supposed was the ceiling pressed against the base of his skull and wrapped around the crown of his head and temples, why he hadn’t simply left the room after phase one. It hadn’t even occurred to him. Part of the obedience protocol, he guessed—remain put until the conversion was complete.

“Phase two commencing. Data catalog initiated,” the machine said. The lights on the wall glowed a dull yellow and metal cradle holding his head in place woke with a pleasant hum.

And then not much happened after that for some time. The machine whirred and clicked, and occasionally a lightbulb would change color, but Max didn’t feel any changes happening.

He did, for the first time, however, think he could hear other hotel guests for the first time, now that he was partially inside a wall. A faint moan followed by a muttered, “I comply,” drifted through the wall.

“How many other people are going through this right now?” Max asked.

“Five,” the machine answered. It paused. “Now four. The other subjects are all in the final stages of phase three.”

“Huh,” was all Max could think to say.

“Five again. A new subject has just entered phase one.”

Max’s dick twitched as he tried, and failed, not to think about going through phase one again.

“So…phase one, been there, done that. You mentioned phase three. What’s phase two?” he asked after a while.

“Phase two is a data collection phase. The subject’s mind is being cataloged and sorted for targeting in phase three,” the machine explained.

“Mmmhmmm. And phase three is reprogramming, right?”

“That is correct. Phase three is the primary conversion phase and is split into two parts. The subject will have his mind wiped and be reprogrammed as an oracle component,” said the machine. “Phase two is a necessary pre-requisite to ensure that nothing necessary for oracle service is erased.”

“You know ‘mind wipe’ is a somewhat intimidating phrase, right?” he said.

Max watched the lights for a while. The headset was surprisingly comfortable.

“The mind wipe is harmless. The subject will have his mind erased and become a blank slate for reprogramming,” the machine said. A moment later it added, “It is temporary and will last only as long as the subjects tenure as an oracle component.”

“Having my mind erased doesn’t sound any better,” Max replied.

“Subjects rate the process as an enjoyable experience,” the machine said.

“Yes—yes—yes,” sighed the person who was either being railed or converted on the other side of the wall.

Max shrugged. It was sinking in at last that no one was going to be turning this machine off until after he’d gone all the way through conversion. He couldn’t delay long enough to stop it. He wasn’t actually that afraid—he knew how the technology worked and had seen it used safely—but he also knew there were prep classes. There were informational meetings you had to go to if you signed up for this. Prerequisite therapy. And what about those client meetings—he had a job that needed taking care of.

A long stream of gasped, “Need to obeys,” and, “The subject is blanks,” drifted from different points in the wall.

Then again.

It would be…nice…to not have to go back to work for a while.

And he couldn’t say that phase one hadn’t been fun. Or that he wasn’t liking having his brain played with.

“Phase two complete,” the machine said with a chipper whistle. “Beginning phase three. Mind wipe initiating.”

A thousand tiny lasers emanated from the lights along the walls of the chamber. Max could see in the reflection of the walls that they were hitting the headset. They blinked on and off in a dizzying sequence.

“What are those for?” Max asked.

“The lasers vibrate neurons responsible for memory retention. This helps facilitate mind erasure,” the machine explained.

Max watched the lasers blink on and off. “That sounds…really stupid,” he said.

“It is effective nevertheless,” the machine countered. “Mind wipe at 0%. Applying phase one scan results.”

Max opened his mouth to ask another question and stopped, moaning, unable to think, as out of nowhere his whole mind and body lit up with an unmistakable orgasm.

Link to part one Link to part two

[mozart-goes-woof]

If you're currently feeling submissive and hypnotizable, reblog this post.

[mozart-goes-woof]

Hiya!

💖 I’m Charlie and I’m a 29yo femme, nonbinary, bisexual, and disabled sub and retired 18+ content creator. I am married and poly.

💖They/them pronouns please. Do not call me girl.

💖 If you do not have an age in your bio do not follow me or interact with my content. You will be ❌blocked❌ if you do not follow this rule, no exceptions.

💖 Asks are a much easier way to reach me than DMs. Please only DM me if you are a mutual or have purchased content from me or items from my wishlist!

💖 Hard limits: piss, scat, r@pe, race play, financial domination, blackmail, diapers and age play, intox, also not a farm animal, feeders are a no, incest is obvs out, homophobia, detrans content NAZIS STAY AWAY

💖Hard limits mean do not test me on these or get blocked.

💖 this blog often operates on a queue. That means I may not be available even if I am posting content.

💖 Links to my OF will be up shortly!

💖 Want to help me make more content? Check out my wishlist!

Spend $30 and get a custom set of Polaroids in the mail made just for you!

Spend $50 and get 4 months free to my OF plus a set of custom Polaroids in the mail!

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Spend $150 or more? Message me and we will work out something that works for you!

💖 Can’t help out financially? Reblogs are always super helpful as it helps me reach more people!

UPDATE:

I am going to censor all my content and load it all onto a new profile for y’all! I don’t want to give up just yet because of the political climate.

[mozart-goes-woof]

Hey if you're reading this right now, you should really think about touching yourself. Just a light little touch. Just enough to get you all worked up. Get that heat pooling between your legs. Get you all excited and worked up. Breathing heavy. Soft little moans. Dripping. Heart racing. Vision clouding. Mouth watering. Desperate. Needy. Aching.

Good. Now share this so everyone else can get all worked up too. And if you're really good, you'll keep touching, getting yourself all worked up. Because good edge sluts make more good edge sluts.

[mozart-goes-woof]

I wish I had a vr headset just so I could watch spirals with it

Being unable to do anything except stare, just completely surrounded by it

Forced to watch it and slowly become blank

I say slowly but honestly, I'd probably drop faster than I do when I watch spirals on my phone or my computer

It'd be even better if I could wear headphones at the same time and listen to a hypno file

[mozart-goes-woof]

Can I ask 2, 29, and 45, for the hypnokink ask game?

Hehe absolutely Glitchdrain!! Thank you for the asks!

2. Describe your first experience with hypnosis.

A: It would have to be a Spider-Man comic I read as a kid where he ends up getting hypnotized by the Ringmaster and then saved by Daredevil who was immune to Ringmasters powers on account of being blind.

Bonus answer: When I first got into erotic hypnosis, I listened to a lot of the podcast stories recorded by Goddess Evilena. I give her A TON of credit for stoking and growing my interest in hypnokink.

29. You can find my answer to 29. on this post: https://www.tumblr.com/mozart-goes-woof/767493882811465728/woof-woof-can-i-get-an-uhhhh-a-number-8-number?source=share

45. Have you ever been to a hypnosis convention? Did you enjoy it, or not? Why?

A: I have actually! I was at Charmed back in 2021 and it was actually really fun and nice! Met a ton of cool people, one of which I still talk to these days. The atmosphere there was pretty damn chill, which was nice bc I'm nervous AF when it comes to new folks. I didn't do any play at the convention bc I had started dating someone around a month beforehand. So, if I ever go to another one (almost went again this year), I'd love to find folks to do some scenes with.

[mozart-goes-woof]

hypnosis kink asks: 6, 8 and 10 💖

Hiiiii Salty!!! Thank you for sending me this ask! Sorry for the delay in answering it.

6. What do you love about being hypnotized

A: Firstly, it gives me a way to turn my brain off. I have an active brain and it's always thinking. Hypnosis has always helped my head feel quiet, and I fucking LOVE that. It's nice to have less going on up there, and the fact that someone else is making me like that, that they're taking control and influencing my perception? OOOOOF that hits so nicely.

My responses to 8. and 10. can be found here! https://www.tumblr.com/mozart-goes-woof/767493882811465728/woof-woof-can-i-get-an-uhhhh-a-number-8-number?source=share

[mozart-goes-woof]

Reblog if you wish you were mindless right now