#Mind-Control

[quotelr]

Don’t allow anyone to pollute your mind with negative thoughts and negative words.

Lailah Gifty Akita, Think Great: Be Great!

[rhyliethelovelycaterfly]

penguins of madagascar controlled by the screenslaver goggles

[gummimn]

Chicago Road-trip Diary

{an old story it posted; the site seems to be offline, so it is reposting here} By gummimn.

Part 1: introductions and prologue.

I was really looking forward to the coming weekend. LatexIL and I had been chatting for quite some time about the chance of getting together for a weekend of some serious play. I had taken extra days off, so we’d have all day Friday, Saturday and Sunday to play; I didn’t have to leave until Monday afternoon. I still got hard just thinking about his profile entry.

“Latex, rubber, leather bondage: intense inescapable, short or long term. Can top, SM optional. Have equipment including sleepsacks, hoods and gags, lots of restraints, can have multiple guests in playroom at once. I like to travel too. Looking for hot safe bondage players who want it tight, inescapable, with headgear controlling sight, sound, speech and air…ESPECIALLY in head to toe latex/rubber. All holes plugged, tubed, and cath’d. Layers: leather over rubber; sacks over leather; sucked down in rac. Hobbies: rubber, catsuits, sleepsacks, straitjackets, vacrac, hoods, gags, and tight, effective restraints. Keeping bottoms tied up for as long as they like it; stored out of sight, out of mind. Favorite Quote: Maybe you need another layer of rubber and you definitely need those straps tightened up…”

Even after 12 years together, Peter still didn’t get the whole bondage/rubber/sense-dep SM scene. He did his fisting and watersports, played with guys who wanted bears, and loved me. Me? I did WS as well, but man, I wanted my rubber too. Waders, suits, sheaths front and back, hoods, gags, gasmask hoods, industrial gloves and rubber work boots; my rubber English riding boots to go with the Vex Chicago cop shirt and tight cod-piece jeans; the rubber BDU from Invincible; did I mention my home-made 1piece? It was a cross-country ski suit until I got my pervy hands and 3 quarts of liquid latex on it. Add some bondage: straitjackets, ropes, chains, restraints, collars, frames, racks, sacks, locks-and I’d be a happy pig. Leather? Oh hell yeah! I never got on my rocket without full gear: suit, boots, gloves and helmet…such a terrible thing; a gear pig required by his lover to wear gear just to go riding. Sucks to be me! My first piece of leather-a biker-hippie approved biker jacket; my knee-high Red Wing loggers-black laces for formal, white for play; leather jeans and cargoes; hoods, restraints-give me my Mr. S. 4 buckles any day; padded fist mitts; padded posture collar (Thanks again Mr. S!); padded sense-dep hood, the only connection to the outside world the grommet at my mouth. Gags-can I count the ways I like to be gagged? Yes, I can. Floggers and crops; pummeling and beating; yeah, I can take the pain, and make it a ticket to that place only a Dom and his sub can go when they’re in a scene: time stops, space expands, 2 souls commune without a spoken word-nirvana in a dungeon with pain and pleasure the mantra that lets them into the garden.

Peter doesn’t get it, but he doesn’t get in the way. One of the first “big talks” we had before living together had settled that. We discussed all the mundane things that will kill a relationship when times get tough. Times always get tough. One of you gets sick, or fired; or you see someone really hot who wants you too; the weather gets too hot or too cold. Crap happens. You work out the little details beforehand, you can get through them. So we talked. Monogamy got talked over as well: go out, have a good time, remember your heart stays at home, don’t bring home diseases. It had worked for 12 years; he had his kink or two, I had my laundry list of pervs; we shared each other and our hearts and our home.

So, I was off to a long weekend in Chicago. I’d shipped some gear ahead, but not much. LatexIL assured me that he had everything that was needed, and I wasn’t going out to the bars. So I sent on my favorite waders and boots, my favorite gags and the posture collar. The only gear in my saddlebags was a rainsuit-never leave home without it; my meds and toilet kit; and bottles of Boost for the trip down. He’d asked, and I’d readily agreed, to a liquid diet starting a couple of days before hand. No need to make a trip to interrupt the scene; the external cath would take care of the rest.

Peter and I had talked over breakfast; his bowl of cereal, my bottle of Boost. We confirmed I’d call when I got there and when I left Monday. He made sure once again that he had LatexIL’s phone and address. We clarified once again the secret code I’d use if I thought the scene was bad and I needed out. Peter can be a pain in the ass when it comes to crap like that. He’s mister “plan everything out, double check the plans, confirm the details, annoy the partner with more plans and details.” I’m a bit more impetuous and spontaneous, mister “hey, that sounds like fun! Let’s go!” He was off to work; I was off to get ready.

First on the list were a trim, then shower and douche. I got out the trimmer, and worked it over my head once again. The smallest guard left only bristly fuzz that felt soooo good to the touch. Latex had sent a liquid soap for me to use; it had an intense chemical scent, but it left my body as smooth and clean as a baby’s behind. The enema was quick; three days of liquids saw to that. I rinsed off the hair from the trim, soaped up and rinsed down. Brushed, flossed, dried off, time to get dressed.

Now was the make it or break it moment. LatexIL had sent me a really cool locking gag and a custom 1-piece suit. The gag was some sort of carbon-fiber head harness with a tube to connect to my CamelBack, and another to use as a straw for Boost on the trip down. Once I locked it over the suit, I had only one way out-I had to see Latex for the key. I took the suit, and admired it once again. Sheaths front and rear; socks with toes, gloves with grippy marks on the fingers, an attached hood the only way in; stretch the mouth wide, let it swallow me whole. It was fairly thick, but still thin enough to flex with me so I wouldn’t get fatigued on the ride. It had been cut like a SlickSuit so it would conform to my every curve. It would slide up crack of my ass so the sleeve behind could slide in with the plug I was going to wear, and stretch snug across my broad shoulders while hugging my small, slim waist. It would be my skin for the weekend, if I didn’t bug out and call the whole thing off.

I got out the lube, opened the suit, and started to pour it in. I started at the feet and worked it into the toes. Up the legs, into the crotch and over the sheaths hanging inside. Starting at the fingers, I lubed up the sleeves, then across the chest. I applied a very thin film to the back of my neck, and my lower face. I wanted the hood to slide on comfortably, but I didn’t want lube in my eyes when I started to sweat under my leathers. Now it was time to slide it on. Cold at first, it quickly warmed. My toes settled in their homes, and I slid it up my legs to my crotch. I worked my dick and nut into the sack and sheath, and then used the plug to seat the sheath in my ass. That old familiar feeling began to settle in-that horny tingle that started out on the skin and worked its way into my bones and took over my brain as I felt the rubber grip my legs and transform my skin. I pulled it up my chest, and worked my hands down the sleeves until they popped into the gloves. For a moment, I had to stop and stroke. Looking at myself in the mirror, I began to grope myself. The squeak of rubber on rubber tuned my senses to the feel of the latex as it became my skin; the warming rubber gave off that heady scent of latex and sweat and my own rubber body. I was lost in the smell and the sound and the sensation. It took all my strength to pull myself back from the edge; that would have to wait until LatexIL let me go over. I pulled the hood over my head, and smoothed the eyes and mouth into place. All that remained was the gag and the last of my freedom.

I looked at the rubberman staring out from the mirror. The light caught every curve and ripple and nook and cranny of my body under its shiny new skin. I felt up my cock, worked my nipples, pushed on the plug, pulled my nut. I could still call it off, jack off, and go for a ride. Or I could put the mouth-guard with its tubes onto my teeth, pull the strap around, and place the lock. I stood there for a long time, stroking my dick, holding the head harness. Finally, I took a deep breath and pushed the guard into my mouth. I worked my tongue around to make sure the tubes on the inside were properly seated between my back molars so I could work the bite valves for the tube that would be my drinking straw and the CamelBack connection. Looking myself in the face in the mirror, my blue eyes the only evidence of a human being within the latex man staring back at me, I pulled the straps to the back of my head…and closed the lock. Now I was in for it-he had the key and my only way out.

I stood there a while longer, worried and afraid about what I had gotten myself into; more horny and lust-demented than I had been in too long a time. My misgivings were too late now. I took one last stroke of my dick with a strong tug on my nut, and left the bathroom.

I went to the bedroom, sat down, and slipped prolyprop socks over my feet and UnderArmor glove liners over my hands. A thin silk balaclava was next; I made sure it rested on my chin so the tubes from the gag were out for use. I lifted the CoolMax liner off the bed. It was my summer salvation; it kept me dry enough in the heat I could wear my leathers in the worst of July and August. It gave my body a shield against the leathers, and kept my leathers clean and free of my sweat. The lightning bolt graphics swirling over the bodysuit gave me a shiver of power and desire as I looked it over, and took in its sweet scent. I slid into the open chest, pushed my feet down the legs, my hands through the sleeves tucked the balaclava under the neck and zipped it shut. My latex skin was now armored against the leathers to come.

It had been a sacrifice, but I now had the racing suit of my gear pig wet dreams. The A-stars SX-1. Asymmetrical chest zips, molded poly-therm armor melded onto the knees, elbows, and shoulders. The same molded poly-therm cast into an armored hump down my back to protect me from whiplash if I crashed and to guide the wind over me as I lay on top of my Daytona. A vivid sky blue, white accents, black woven stretch Kevlar in the crotch and down the arms, perfed almost like mesh, memory foam armor across my chest and abs and lower back. It looked hot, the brilliant blue contrasting with the bright sunshine yellow of the bike, meeting on my A-Star Super Tech boots of blue smashing against yellow fading to white at the toe of my boots. Next was my Arai-a white star on a blue field with gold trim. I slid the Foggy Respro over my rubber face without snagging it, made sure the tubes from the gag hung free, and cinched it snug. I reached inside my suit, grabbed the hose from my hydration pack and hooked it up to the left tube so I could drink as I rode. Last, but not least, my Icon Ti-Maxx longs: blue with bling; gold plated titanium on blue gloves, gray palms with gold studs on the heel of my palm, the wrist strap snugged, the gauntlet straps firmly closed together.

I took another look in the full-length mirror on the closet door. Under the leathers, my dick stretched further up my abs. Blue, gold, white and yellow-from head to toe; armor over my shoulders, across my elbows and down my forearms; more armor over my knees and down my shins; the armored aero-hump running down my spine; it was worth every bit of overtime. The mere sight of my skin-tight leathers alone would have gotten me off in a heartbeat if I weren’t under orders to wait. My wallet was safely under the seat, the saddlebags were packed and strapped, it was time for take-off. Sense-dep breath control head-trips, utter immobility and complete helplessness waited 7 hours away. I ran to the kitchen, grabbed my keys and locked the door behind me. In the garage, I threw my leg over and started the motor. The bike safely walked out of the garage, I did the door remote and tucked it in a saddlebag pocket. I closed the golden-blue mirrored shield, slipped it into vent-lock, and launched my rocket.

Part 2: my trip and arrival

I had gotten a semi-early start. Early enough to get there before rush hour in Chicagoland, late enough to be after the morning rush here in Minneapolis. I’d only have to stop for relief and Boost breaks, so I wasn’t worried about the time. Late May can still be a roll of the dice for weather. It can be the perfect warmth all day, and still drop to freezing after sundown. You can start out dry, and end up soaking wet. Lady Latex favored the bold. It was a perfect temp to be riding skinned in rubber and encased in armored leather. Just warm enough that a layer of sweat let the latex slide over my skin without binding or chafing, no more, no less. I took the freeway just long enough to get out of town, then took my exit, and got on the 2-lane. More fun, less dangerous than the interstate, it was my preferred way to make long rides. After all, you get twisties on 2-lane, not the interstate, and I do love to put a knee down; the sound, the feel of my puck skimming asphalt gets me almost as hard as the feel of rope wrapping around my body.

I felt every bump in the road through my plug. Each crack and ripple was transmitted from the plug to my prostate, transferred to my dick, and buzzed into my brain. Once I was safely alone, away from stoplights and stop signs, crosswalks and city speed zones, I knew I wouldn’t have to shift often, so I got into my cruising position. I lay down on the tank and tucked my boots up against the passenger pegs. To corner, I would simply shift to one side or the other; to shift, I would slip my left food down to the gear shift long enough to click it, then lift it back to the rear peg. My cock and nut and taint melted into the seat sending the motor’s hum directly to my heads, both of them. The memory foam padding on my chest absorbed bumps from the road, protecting me and allowing me to breath. The rocket merged with its pilot, the two became one, and the miles slid by.

It’s strange when you’re out on a bike. Even though a car’s air-filter doesn’t really filter out all the aromas from the air coming in, there is an exponential difference when riding. You can taste each scent as it comes: the cows in the pasture, the cottonwoods by the stream, the lilacs by the farmhouse. You see it, you smell it, you taste it all in the same instant. Combine that with the hum from the motor, the buzz from the tires, and the utter bliss of being out on your own magic carpet, and you can go into sensory overload. It’s like being high without the down or the expense of weed. It’s like being born again each and every second, the whole of your being a clean slate every moment. No past, no future, only now, forever and ever amen and amen. Sometimes you just have to stop, get off the rocket, and shake your head to clear out the joy and release the beauty. Then it’s back on the magic carpet and off to the horizon again. Four times I stopped; twice to fuel my Daytona, twice more to fuel the pilot as well. Before I knew it, I was on the outskirts of Chicagoland. Taking the two-lane meant I hadn’t had to worry about tolls, but it also meant I had to heed the directions from my Garmin to twist my way into the city. Even so, it was going to be perfectly timed. I’d arrive just after LatexIL got home, so he’d be there to open his garage and I could ride right in.

After that, my freedom so real and so perfect while on two wheels would be over. My freedom freely given and utterly taken would be transformed into complete slavery in total bondage. In my servitude, I would achieve a new bliss, a different joy, a deeper beauty. I could not wait to be utterly confined and perfectly helpless. The thought of the total freedom of the ride taken to become the utter submission of my captor’s bondage made me so hard and horny I could barely focus on the road ahead.

Finally, I arrived at the address I’d programmed into my digital map. As I rolled up to the brownstone, I saw the tuck-under garage left open for my entry. I settled my rocket into the berth gently; I don’t think any of the neighbors noticed. To them I was just another sport bike rider parking my toy for the night. I stood up stiffly, and stretched, then stood off my bike. The door from the garage to the house stood open, as he said it would be. I unstrapped the saddlebags, threw them over my shoulder, and entered, closing the door and my freedom behind me.

Part 3: the scene begins.

As I shut the door, I heard a voice behind me.

“Hello blue.”

The same deep voice I’d heard so often on our Skype chats, but wrong; it’s Bryce, not blue. Suddenly, my world shifted as my mind spun. Vertigo like from a harsh fever swept through me; even as I stepped away from the door, my body came to a complete stop. I swear, for a moment, I couldn’t even breathe as every muscle in my body froze. I tried to turn to face him; my chest didn’t shift an inch. I tried to turn my head; I stared straight ahead at the closed door. I tried to lift my hand to raise my face-shield; it hung stiffly at my side. I gave one last effort to try and see him in the corner of my sight; my eyes were fixed, looking at the peephole in the door. Even my dick froze in mid-twitch! Something inside my mind had hijacked my body; I was more subdued than I had ever been in any amount of rope, restraints or chains. My mind raced, What the fuck!? What just happened? What’s with that word? Why has it paralyzed me?

Minutes passed while I struggled to move any muscle in my body. Nothing shifted the least bit. Sweat broke out over the whole of my skin as I panicked. The only motion I had was my breathing; as the vertigo swept past, it had returned. Now I was sucking air like I’d run the quarter mile as I went into full flight mode. I should’ve been tearing out the door and onto the street, the way my mind was racing. Instead I was a leather and latex statue, an armored mannequin of flesh and bone. Finally, I heard him step up behind me.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to turn around and say hello?”

That same deep sexy voice, now laced with sarcasm and menace.

“Oh wait, that’s right, you can’t. I’ve said the magic word.”

Fuck, the vertigo, the frozen breath, the swirling in my mind, only stronger and deeper somehow.

“Blue, turn around and face the mirror.”

Before, I had struggled with all my might to turn and face him; now I willed every muscle, every fiber, every bone in my body to stay where I was. As paralyzed as my body was before, now it moved on its own; against my will, I turned around. Looking across the entryway, a small mudroom and laundry, there was a mirror on the far wall. Like I was on a leash, my body stepped forward, crossed the 4 paces to reach the mirror, and came to a complete stop. Not like I normally would stop, you know, slowing down as I approached, then bringing my rear foot forward to rest beside the front. No, my body strode across the room and STOPPED; I almost pitched forward into the wall it was so abrupt. If I had been scared before, this display nearly shut me down with terror.

As I came back to my body, my thoughts crashed around my skull, “What the Hell? What is in that word? Why can it move me, when I can’t move myself?”

He had followed me across the room. I could see him beside me as I stared straight ahead into the mirror. Even the normal movement of my eyes, back and forth, up and down, was frozen. I could only look straight ahead, eyes perfectly level, no left or right. If he had stepped even one step to the side, I would not be able to see him, because he would be out of my direct line of sight.

“Blue, examine your reflection in the mirror. Enable sub-routine Bryce to access optical sensors without security filter 421. Apply. Bryce, can you see everything?”

Damn, that voice of his; so strong, so commanding over Skype, was beyond strong, beyond commanding when in the same room. Even as I relaxed into his voice as I had so many times before, my mind swirled again, and my vision shifted. I stared; my breath caught in my throat. I could see everything.

“What the Fuck? There’s a padlock through the chinch rings on my chinstrap; where did it come from? When had it been put there? What the hell? Why is there zip ties cinched from my suit’s zipper pulls to the D-rings on my collar? What the Fuckity Fuck is a collar doing around my neck? What the Fuck is it made of? It looks like carbon fiber! Fuckity fuckity fuck fuck! There’s another one of those freaky zip-ties around each wrist, strapping my gloves to my arms! My Boots! There’s some sort of carbon fiber strap wrapped around the top of my boots! From the top of my instep to the top of the wedge-shaped shin-guard, there’s a fucking carbon fiber strap snugged around my boots! What the hell is going on here? Why am I locked into my leathers? Who did this to me? When!?!? What is in that word!? Why can’t I do anything unless he says blue!?”

I screamed-but it was only in my head; not a sound came out of my throat.

My eyes flickered back up from my boots to look at the face of the man beside me. The open inviting smile I had seen on cam was now a malevolent grin. He was obviously getting off on my terror and confusion. He was looking at me in the mirror as I was looking at him. Waiting for me to see everything there was to see in my reflection.

“Do you like what you see, Bryce?” His deep, strong voice could make my breath stop in my throat, even in my stark raving terror. Even in my stark raving terror, I did like what I saw. The vision in the mirror, a crotch-rocketeer locked in his leathers, gloves, boots and helmet, had me hard. If I was a leaker, I’d have been dripping; but I’m not. Instead, my dick tried to crawl up out of the codpiece and into my throat. I was trembling now not in fear, but in stark raving horniness. Carbon fiber straps shone like gloss black paint over my boot tops. Wide carbon fiber straps cinched my gloves to my arms, gloss black over matte blue and gray and shiny gold. A carbon fiber collar gleamed between the collar-less top of my racing suit and the bottom edge of my helmet. The shiny chrome of the D-rings were reflected on the collar, and made the strap connecting the suit zip to the D-ring seem like a glossy ribbon of black light. There were 2 tubes hanging from under my helmet; I could feel something in my nose, I realized it must be the tubes. I could see the top of a rubber suit rising from my leathers; I was now aware it continued as a hood. I was completely sealed in rubber, from head to toe. There was a tube sticking out from the top of my leathers that disappeared into my helmet; I could feel it was attached to the gag in my mouth, and it was leaking. I could feel a catheter in my dick; that must be what’s leaking. There was a MONSTER plug in my ass; I estimated at least a 3-inch diameter. Everything his profile promised had been delivered. Every opening was tubed, cath’d, gagged and plugged. I was so horny, so hard, so turned on, I was vibrating.

As I came back to earth, I wondered what had gone through people’s mind as they had seen me at the gas station. It was very obvious to anyone who looked that my suit was locked on me. The thought that I had ridden all the way to Chicago from Minneapolis in obvious bondage for everyone to see sent my mind into another horny tailspin and made my dick twitch. At least that muscle could now move on its own!

As my mind cleared, my eyes bore into the reflection of his. Not that he could see mine through the mirrored visor. But still, they did. The horniness had given way to terror had given way to rage.

“What the fuck have you done to me? Why can’t I move? When did I get locked in my gear? Who locked me up? What the HELL is going on? What’s in the word blue that it controls everything I do?”

All what I would have shouted, loud enough to crack the mirror in front of me... If I could have spoken... but there was that gag...

“You must be a bit confused.” “A Bit!?” “Would you like to know what happened?” “HELL yeah, I want to know what happened!” “Blue…Remember this morning.”

If my body hadn’t been stone cold paralyzed, I’d have collapsed to the floor as another wave of vertigo swept my mind. I remembered this morning; oh Hell, did I ever remember this morning.

Next: “Memories Light the Corners of My Mind….”

[chrystalwynd]

Everybody Comes to the Black Hole

I don’t write a lot of sci-fi (or any, really. This is my first), but I like this setting and may use it again in the future. Sci-fi readers’ opinions appreciated here.

Everybody Comes to the Black Hole

words: 2700

mc mf ff md fd sci-fi

                “Mmmmmm, look at you. Why don’t you come inside for a drink?”

                She was a six-and-a-half-foot blue-haired beauty, with fingernails and toenails to match. Her breasts made all kinds of threats about bursting out of the leather corset that was straining to contain them, while the rounded cheeks of her ass moved like two bubble hovers trying to pass each other in a tight race. Her lips made promises her eyes had no intention of keeping, but her hips made promises that made the risk worth it. She was a three-dimensional wet dream.

                “Don’t go away,” pouted the blue hair bird. “I’ll miss you.”

                “I’m sure you’ll find a way to work through the pain,” I said, pulling out a vita-cig and lighting it. I blew a stream of smoke through the hologram.

                A figure moved next to me, setting off Blue Hair’s automated offer of a drink. A skinny berk stood there, looking like a rodent on the back nine of a bender. I’d known he was there even before Blue Hair told me, but he didn’t need to know that. Being a mindwire was my own business and none of his.

                “Waller,” I said. “What’s the chant?”

                “’Ello, Gar,” said the rodent, without moving his lips. A neat trick. “Tonight at the Black Hole. 2200 digital. Bring cash.”

                “Bring what?”

                “Cash, guv. Old Earth slang for money.”

                “I see. You’re a man of the stars, Waller.”

                “Shite, cutter. Just a berk trying to make enough shiny to get off this hunk of metal, savvy? Now how ‘bout providin’ some bounty, yeah?”

                “Don’t be a tentacle’s ass, Waller. Half now, half if the meetin’ goes well.”

                “I can’t be held vertical for a meeting that goes horizontal, Gar.”

                “Relax, Waller. Just blowing your airlock. Mostly, anyway. Half now, half after they show.”

                “It’s a fair pop.”

                I worked my wrist tech-band for a few seconds. Waller’s band beeped in reply.

                “There you go, Waller. Stay off the meteor dust and you’ll be off Port Kepler in no time.”

                “Shite, cutter. Dust the only t’ing makes this rig bearable.”

                I had nothing to say to that, so I nodded and Waller went on his way.

                I started up the strip of shops and services that made up Port Kepler. The creaky space port had been circling Kepler B for so long, few people even knew it’s launch year. Everybody could, however, tell you to the day how long they’d been stuck here. There were far more berks than jobs and saving money to get that off-port ticket was every port resident’s dream.

                But that was irrelevant at this moment. Tonight I was going to get something that would make my stay a little more tolerable as well.

*****

                At 2100 digital I walked into the Black Hole.

                The décor wasn’t, strictly speaking, a reflection of its name. While some sections were certainly darker than others- intentionally so- a colorfully bland motif was vaguely evident. But the effect was pale and the effort fell flat, and everybody knew the decorations were secondary to function.

                Drinks and business. Anything else was comet-tail. A wretched hive of scum and villainy, to be sure, but whatever you needed could be found here. For a price.

                I glanced around, doing a whom’s-who, then moved toward a table of figures donning brown hooded robes. The typical cutter couldn’t tell which was who, but I wasn’t a conventional.

                A hood turned in my direction. “Bright night to you, neighbor. Do you seek a higher plane?”

                “Bright night to you, brother abbot,” I said politely. The sensate monks were no one to screw with. “I seek a verbal with Brother Ivan about a previously placed order.”

                The monk stared for a moment as I waited. Sensate monks were the source of the best narcotic chems on the station, but they were so formal and conservative that they barely believed in starlight. Getting saucy with ‘em didn’t score credits, either.

                One of the monks stood, ending the suspense. I’d already known Ivan was there, but the abbot at the table didn’t need to know that.

                Ivan and I wandered away from the table, moving into one of the darker corners of the bar.

                “Bright night to you, Gar,” said Ivan. “Did my last delivery meet expectations?”

                “As advertised, my friend,” I said. “It kept me awake for 2 cycles, as you promised. I needed every minute.”

                “Marwake is a potent stimulant, neighbor, and it does so with few side effects.”

                “What side effects? I didn’t notice any.”

                “That’s because you used it as instructed,” said Ivan. “There are those who use it to stay away a week or longer. That never goes well.”

                “Oh?”

                “Hallucinations are the typical result,” he said, “typically followed by a further breakdown of faculties. For the first week, anyway. After that-“

                I held up my hand. “Apologies, brother, but I have no digital for this. My clock is short tonight.”

                “As you will, neighbor. How may I serve?”

                “Street chant suggests you have a new product I might be interested in.”

                Since he was wearing a hood, I couldn’t see his expression, but he somehow managed to convey surprise.

*****

                That business concluded, I moved further inside the Black Hole. I soon came to a table with an attractive redhead. She wore loose-fitting leather pants and a sleeveless top that showed off her muscular shoulders and arms. Attractive women sitting by themselves in the Black Hole were usually automatic targets, but not this one. Everybody knew better than to test their luck with Vette. She was a merc and believed it was better to be good than lucky. The ones trying to get lucky with Vette usually found themselves at the med-unit.

                I gave her a nod. “Evenin’, Vette. What’s the chant?”

                She lifted a glass at me. “Hey, Gar. Just walkin’ and talkin’.”

                She hadn’t thrown anything at me or suggested I self-procreate. Professional courtesy.

                Vette used her glass to indicate the empty chair at her table. I sat down.

                “I think,” she said, “that I’m going to get me some of Catamon’s thrall tonight.”

                “The new one?” I said, suddenly interested but speaking casual.

                Vette took a swallow of her drink. “Yep. No one’s tapped that yet. She’s good and Catamon’s getting cocky. Think I’m gonna get a piece of that and a stack of credits as well.”

                “Be careful,” I said. “Street chant says this one likes to leave her mark on conquests. She doesn’t just win, she embarrasses her conquests.”

                “Aww, your concern is touching. You jealous?”

                “Sure,” I said. “I’ve been there.”

                “Watch it, gonk,” she said, though without real heat. “You just got lucky with that royal flush. I’ll admit you weren’t bad, though. For a man.”

                I felt like I was tiptoeing through a minefield. “Props to you for honoring the marker. Figured you to tell me to self-procreate.”

                She took a swallow, then grinned. “Thought crossed my mind. But I ain’t javascripted that way. Word’s gotta count for something. Don’t get over yourself, though. You were good, but nothin’ to drop the ladies for.”

                Vette finished her drink, then slammed both hands on the table and stood. “All right, time to delta. Gonna bang me some thrall.”

*****

                Catamon smiled as Vette approached his table.

                He was a large man, well over six feet, with green skin so dark it was bordered on emerald. Dressed in gold and silver robes, his presence radiated beyond the table. He was covered in gold and jewels. That wasn’t what made his wealth obvious, however. The true sign of his position was the woman sitting next to him.

                Catamon was a Taur from Tau Ceti-D. An ability specific to Taurs was being able to claim and bond with Taurettes. This bond turned the Taurette into a thrall completely under the control of the Taur. By all accounts it was a very intimate, powerful, erotic state. The Taur could claim only one thrall and it wasn’t always voluntary. The Taur controlled all aspects of the thrall at that point. But the bond between them was powerful and they could amplify each other in ways that were still unknown to non-Taurs.

                Catamon looked up as Vette approached. A large bowl sat in front of him, with piles of credits stacked within. When he spoke, his voice was a deep baritone.

                “You bring honor to my table, Vette,” said Catamon, “and a certain level of erotic ability. Your last visit left my poor Wenni exhausted. She was days recovering from servicing you.”

                Vette smiled. “What can I say? I work hard, I play hard. Now how ‘bout you screamsheet the stats on your new joytoy?”

                Catamon smiled. “Were we on my world, Vette, referencing my vassal in such a matter would result in a challenge that would leave you with a collar on your neck, a true joytoy on my chain, servicing me as I wish.”

                Vette shrugged. “You mean you’d try to put a collar on me. But that’s no bones here, ‘cuz we’re not on your world. Just give me the figure so I can get busy putting your girl to work.”

                Catamon nodded. “Very well. Xarissa, stand.”

                At his words, the woman next to him stood. Thralls from Tau Ceti were typically blue or green skinned. On rare occasions, red or orange skinned vassals might be seen. On extremely rare occasions, a white albino skinned thrall might be seen, although it had been years since one was seen here on Port Kepler. In this case, however, Xarissa was a black skinned thrall.

Not just black-skinned, actually. Her skin was so black that it verged on ebony. Her stark white hair was long and hung down to her exotically rounded ebony bottom. Her impossible curves were so erotically charged that her sensuality radiated beyond the table to the surrounding patrons.

Vette took out a number of credits and dropped them in the bowl. Catamon nodded and then spoke again in that deep baritone.

“For the benefit of all observers,” he said, “what is happening is that this young lady Vette has just made a wager on her ability to overwhelm my thrall Xarissa. What will happen is this. I will open a psionic connection between them. They will then psionically battle each other. Whichever one is victorious will then have control of the loser for approximately three hours. And should Vette win, she will also receive back her bet and an equal amount from me. Meaning that if Vette is victor, she will win both money and have the use of my thrall for the next three hours. Should she lose, however, Xarissa will have control of her for the next three hours.”

Catamon turned to Vette then. “I wish you no ill, of course, but that will prove most interesting. Most recently my Xarissa has taken to piercing the nipples of her female conquests with Taurian steel.”

Ouch. Taurian steel was the diamond of metals. There was no known way of cutting through it without travelling to Tau Ceti. It was essentially a permanent piercing.

Vette nodded her understanding. Her confidence was impressive.

They faced each other across the table. Catamon said, “I’m opening the connection…

…now.”

A small crowd had gathered now. That happened often here at the Black Hole and it was usually due to games of chance. This was no different.

For long seconds, nothing seemed to happen. Vette and Xarissa stared at each other, neither blinking. Vette right eyelid flickered and there was a murmur amongst the crowd. One of Xarissa’s bare shoulders moved then, jerking up.

Sweat was breaking out on Vette’s forehead now, but she showed almost no other sign of difficulty. Xarissa appeared to be almost relaxed.

I pulled my glance away from the tension of the table and took a viddy at Catamon. Suddenly I knew what he was doing.

Vette’s face still remained calm. Too calm. And then I knew why. She had lost.

Xarissa smiled and crooked her finger at Vette. Vette walked around the table and stood in front of the collared Xarissa.

“Be a good girl,” said Xarissa in a throaty voice, “and take off your top.”

And just like that, Vette was topless at the Black Hole.

Xarissa began kissing Vette then, running her hands over Vette’s body as if she owned it. And she did. And when she pushed Vette to her knees and told the redhead to lick her pussy, the crowd cheered.

I could have intervened sooner, most like, but I opted not to. I wanted Xarissa hot for the next act, so I chose to let the scene play out. Besides, while Vette may have preferred the top position, being the down for an exotic beauty like Xarissa wasn’t the worst thing.

The crowd had cheered itself hoarse by the time Xarissa lifted the enthralled Vette to her feet, using only her finger under the redhead’s chin. Vette’s nipples were rigid at this point and I suddenly intuited what was about to happen. The thrall was about to pierce Vette’s nipples.

“Before you go that route,” I said, “perhaps we could have a bit of verbal?”

Catamon rumbled. “You’ll verbal with me, Gar, and none other.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “This is such a fine digital that I’m inspired to throw my helmet in the quad. Before you let your joytoy javascript Vette’s nipples for perm, perhaps we could match first? I’ll put up double the funds with the conditional that if I win, Vette will be spliced to me as well for the remainder of her clock. Savvy?”

Catamon bristled at my use of ‘joytoy’, as I’d hoped. He should have known better.

“So if you’re victorious over Xarissa, you will have both she and Vette?”

“Affirmative,” I nodded.

“And if Xarissa wins, she will have both you and Vette simultaneously?”

“Also affirmative.”

“Very well,” said Catamon. “I agree to your wager. Place the credits in the bowl.”

I did so, then turned around to face Xarissa. To my surprise, her eyes were already locked on mine.

“When I defeat you, Gar, I want you to know one thing,” she said. “I will continue to use Vette’s body for my pleasure. You, on the other hand, will be pleasing Catamon. You will be pleasing him in every way you can. And after marking Vette as my conquest, you too will be marked.”

I smiled. “I guess that gives me something to look forward to, doesn’t it? Shall we begin?”

Catamon didn’t even give me a chance to get ready. He immediately opened the psi-link between us.

I nearly blinked. The sudden intensity of Xarissa’s psionic pressure against my mind caught me by surprise. Had this been a typical match, I might have lost it right then.

The problem for Catamon and Xarissa, however, was that this wasn’t a typical match and I wasn’t strictly playing by the rules. But I was fine with that, because neither were they.

I had realized that Catamon was using his psychic connection with Xarissa to boost his thrall whenever she got in trouble. So Vette hadn’t been just battling Xarissa. She’d been battling Catamon as well. And it’d worked for them, which was why Vette was standing there, her eyes glazed, Xarissa’s juices on her cheeks and chin.

Vette wasn’t javascripted to cheat. I, on the other hand, had no such reservations, as the willpower chem in my system- the one I’d acquired from Brother Ivan earlier- attested. And with my psionic willpower boosted, not only was I able to circumvent Xarissa’s defenses instantly, I was able to follow the psionic link from Xarissa’s brainpan to Catamon’s, catching them both almost simultaneously.

Catamon and Xarissa were finding out what happens when one attempts to take on a jacked-up mindwire in a psionic knife fight.

So was Vette, but I was pretty sure she wouldn’t mind.

The crowd around Catamon’s table was murmuring now, beginning to realize what had just happened. My street cred had amplified without losing clock. A profitable night. And looking at Xarissa and Vette, a fun night. At least for the next three hours.

A fun night for me. A typical night for the Black Hole.

END

[sspacegodd]

This is a painting by the Flemish artist Aert de Gelder in 1710, showing the baptism of Jesus Christ as a scout ship looks on with its mind-control rays focused on the crowds below.

[fanfictasia]

Whumpcember Day 27

Crash Landing 

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from Force of Infinity

Obi-Wan feels himself moving forwards again. Anakin glances at him, jaw clenched, his curls falling matted across his forehead. He looks so young. He looks… scared. Obi-Wan aches to take that away, to calm him, the way he sometimes had to when they were younger, but he can’t stop himself as he walks closer.

Anakin tries to slip through the area between them, but Obi-Wan cuts him off.

He can hardly hear anything over the screaming in his own mind as one of his hands reaches up, wrapping around Anakin’s neck. He can feel the warmth of his former padawan almost as if he was truly choosing to do this, which he isn’t.

He would never. He could never. Anakin is everything to him, but no matter what he does, it’s not enough to stop this. Obi-Wan is fighting it as hard as he can, but the overwhelmingness of whatever it is keeps him firmly from stopping this. He will never forget the wide-eyed look on Anakin’s face.

He can only scream internally in desperate denial as his hand slowly tightens, silently begging Anakin to do something to stop this. His padawan’s hand comes up to his, trying to pry his grip off.

Finally, he feels a shift of something in the Force, and the hold lets up suddenly. Obi-Wan stumbles, jerking back from Anakin and falling to his knees from the backlash. Anakin steps back, and a glowing yellow stone lands in his right hand.

Obi-Wan’s head his pounding, but – he’s in control of himself again. The Dark Side being is moving towards them again, but Anakin blasts him back with the Force. “Hurry!” Anakin calls, sprinting towards the portal.

Obi-Wan pushes himself up and follows. Anakin closes the portal just a moment before the Dark Sider can come through. He’s still trying to recollect himself from everything that just happened, as Anakin sets the mind stone with the other three.

The Force is screaming of their danger now, especially all together. And if not for all of this madness, what just happened wouldn’t have. He hurt Anakin, and that being was in his mind, and – He can already see the bruises starting to form on his former padawan’s neck.

[achieve25moreclientsdaily]

Brain-Computer Interfaces: Connecting the Brain Directly to Computers for Communication and Control

In recent years, technological advancements have ushered in the development of Brain-Computer Interfaces (BCIs)—an innovation that directly connects the brain to external devices, enabling communication and control without the need for physical movements. BCIs have the potential to revolutionize various fields, from healthcare to entertainment, offering new ways to interact with machines and augment human capabilities.

YCCINDIA, a leader in digital solutions and technological innovations, is exploring how this cutting-edge technology can reshape industries and improve quality of life. This article delves into the fundamentals of brain-computer interfaces, their applications, challenges, and the pivotal role YCCINDIA plays in this transformative field.

What is a Brain-Computer Interface?

A Brain-Computer Interface (BCI) is a technology that establishes a direct communication pathway between the brain and an external device, such as a computer, prosthetic limb, or robotic system. BCIs rely on monitoring brain activity, typically through non-invasive techniques like electroencephalography (EEG) or more invasive methods such as intracranial electrodes, to interpret neural signals and translate them into commands.

The core idea is to bypass the normal motor outputs of the body—such as speaking or moving—and allow direct control of devices through thoughts alone. This offers significant advantages for individuals with disabilities, neurological disorders, or those seeking to enhance their cognitive or physical capabilities.

How Do Brain-Computer Interfaces Work?

The process of a BCI can be broken down into three key steps:

Signal Acquisition: Sensors, either placed on the scalp or implanted directly into the brain, capture brain signals. These signals are electrical impulses generated by neurons, typically recorded using EEG for non-invasive BCIs or implanted electrodes for invasive systems.

Signal Processing: Once the brain signals are captured, they are processed and analyzed by software algorithms. The system decodes these neural signals to interpret the user's intentions. Machine learning algorithms play a crucial role here, as they help refine the accuracy of signal decoding.

Output Execution: The decoded signals are then used to perform actions, such as moving a cursor on a screen, controlling a robotic arm, or even communicating via text-to-speech. This process is typically done in real-time, allowing users to interact seamlessly with their environment.

Applications of Brain-Computer Interfaces

The potential applications of BCIs are vast and span across multiple domains, each with the ability to transform how we interact with the world. Here are some key areas where BCIs are making a significant impact:

1. Healthcare and Rehabilitation

BCIs are most prominently being explored in the healthcare sector, particularly in aiding individuals with severe physical disabilities. For people suffering from conditions like amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), spinal cord injuries, or locked-in syndrome, BCIs offer a means of communication and control, bypassing damaged nerves and muscles.

Neuroprosthetics and Mobility

One of the most exciting applications is in neuroprosthetics, where BCIs can control artificial limbs. By reading the brain’s intentions, these interfaces can allow amputees or paralyzed individuals to regain mobility and perform everyday tasks, such as grabbing objects or walking with robotic exoskeletons.

2. Communication for Non-Verbal Patients

For patients who cannot speak or move, BCIs offer a new avenue for communication. Through brain signal interpretation, users can compose messages, navigate computers, and interact with others. This technology holds the potential to enhance the quality of life for individuals with neurological disorders.

3. Gaming and Entertainment

The entertainment industry is also beginning to embrace BCIs. In the realm of gaming, brain-controlled devices can open up new immersive experiences where players control characters or navigate environments with their thoughts alone. This not only makes games more interactive but also paves the way for greater accessibility for individuals with physical disabilities.

4. Mental Health and Cognitive Enhancement

BCIs are being explored for their ability to monitor and regulate brain activity, offering potential applications in mental health treatments. For example, neurofeedback BCIs allow users to observe their brain activity and modify it in real time, helping with conditions such as anxiety, depression, or ADHD.

Moreover, cognitive enhancement BCIs could be developed to boost memory, attention, or learning abilities, providing potential benefits in educational settings or high-performance work environments.

5. Smart Home and Assistive Technologies

BCIs can be integrated into smart home systems, allowing users to control lighting, temperature, and even security systems with their minds. For people with mobility impairments, this offers a hands-free, effortless way to manage their living spaces.

Challenges in Brain-Computer Interface Development

Despite the immense promise, BCIs still face several challenges that need to be addressed for widespread adoption and efficacy.

1. Signal Accuracy and Noise Reduction

BCIs rely on detecting tiny electrical signals from the brain, but these signals can be obscured by noise—such as muscle activity, external electromagnetic fields, or hardware limitations. Enhancing the accuracy and reducing the noise in these signals is a major challenge for researchers.

2. Invasive vs. Non-Invasive Methods

While non-invasive BCIs are safer and more convenient, they offer lower precision and control compared to invasive methods. On the other hand, invasive BCIs, which involve surgical implantation of electrodes, pose risks such as infection and neural damage. Finding a balance between precision and safety remains a significant hurdle.

3. Ethical and Privacy Concerns

As BCIs gain more capabilities, ethical issues arise regarding the privacy and security of brain data. Who owns the data generated by a person's brain, and how can it be protected from misuse? These questions need to be addressed as BCI technology advances.

4. Affordability and Accessibility

Currently, BCI systems, especially invasive ones, are expensive and largely restricted to research environments or clinical trials. Scaling this technology to be affordable and accessible to a wider audience is critical to realizing its full potential.

YCCINDIA’s Role in Advancing Brain-Computer Interfaces

YCCINDIA, as a forward-thinking digital solutions provider, is dedicated to supporting the development and implementation of advanced technologies like BCIs. By combining its expertise in software development, data analytics, and AI-driven solutions, YCCINDIA is uniquely positioned to contribute to the growing BCI ecosystem in several ways:

1. AI-Powered Signal Processing

YCCINDIA’s expertise in AI and machine learning enables more efficient signal processing for BCIs. The use of advanced algorithms can enhance the decoding of brain signals, improving the accuracy and responsiveness of BCIs.

2. Healthcare Solutions Integration

With a focus on digital healthcare solutions, YCCINDIA can integrate BCIs into existing healthcare frameworks, enabling hospitals and rehabilitation centers to adopt these innovations seamlessly. This could involve developing patient-friendly interfaces or working on scalable solutions for neuroprosthetics and communication devices.

3. Research and Development

YCCINDIA actively invests in R&D efforts, collaborating with academic institutions and healthcare organizations to explore the future of BCIs. By driving research in areas such as cognitive enhancement and assistive technology, YCCINDIA plays a key role in advancing the technology to benefit society.

4. Ethical and Privacy Solutions

With data privacy and ethics being paramount in BCI applications, YCCINDIA’s commitment to developing secure systems ensures that users’ neural data is protected. By employing encryption and secure data-handling protocols, YCCINDIA mitigates concerns about brain data privacy and security.

The Future of Brain-Computer Interfaces

As BCIs continue to evolve, the future promises even greater possibilities. Enhanced cognitive functions, fully integrated smart environments, and real-time control of robotic devices are just the beginning. BCIs could eventually allow direct communication between individuals, bypassing the need for speech or text, and could lead to innovations in education, therapy, and creative expression.

The collaboration between tech innovators like YCCINDIA and the scientific community will be pivotal in shaping the future of BCIs. By combining advanced AI, machine learning, and ethical considerations, YCCINDIA is leading the charge in making BCIs a reality for a wide range of applications, from healthcare to everyday life.

Brain-Computer Interfaces represent the next frontier in human-computer interaction, offering profound implications for how we communicate, control devices, and enhance our abilities. With applications ranging from healthcare to entertainment, BCIs are poised to transform industries and improve lives. YCCINDIA’s commitment to innovation, security, and accessibility positions it as a key player in advancing this revolutionary technology.

As BCI technology continues to develop, YCCINDIA is helping to shape a future where the boundaries between the human brain and technology blur, opening up new possibilities for communication, control, and human enhancement.

Brain-computer interfaces: Connecting the brain directly to computers for communication and control

Web Designing Company

Web Designer in India

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#BrainComputerInterface #BCITechnology #Neurotech #NeuralInterfaces #MindControl

#CognitiveTech #Neuroscience #FutureOfTech #HumanAugmentation #BrainTech

[whydidisavethistomyphone]

All these billionaires who invested in the metaverce and Neuralink must be questioning their life choices looking at what what furries are doing in VR chat.

[meltedyun]

How to become more addicted to porn and ruin your silly brain 💞

1 - Stop cumming. Full orgasms makes you feel like you 'had enough'. You should never have enough, you need to be kept in the edge.

2 - Stop being picky. Good girls don't choose. Watch every single porn that shows on your feed/timeline/search results.

3 - Stop skipping. The video timeline should not exist for you, you should watch from beginning to end in normal speed and without pauses.

4 - Edge for every single video/image. It doesn't matter it you liked it or not.

5 - Always watch porn when you feel sad. This will make your brain see porn as a method of escapism and it will slowly gets more needy for it.

6 - Any horny thought should lead to watching porn.

7 - Get used to it. Stop watching porn only on your bed or bedroom, watch it as you would to any youtube video.

8 - Expand your fetish list. Start to try slightly different porn categories and gradually develop a wide taste.

9 - Use as much porn plataforms as you can. Video streaming platforms are not the only way to consume porn. Use twitter, tumblr, image folders, etc.

10 - Punish yourself for not watching it. You spend a day without porn? Then the next time you watch you wont be allowed to touch yourself, and so on.

11 - Start to save it. Download the files you most like and watch them everyday.

12 - Lose hope. Stop wondering about recovery, this is for normal people, not dirty sluts.

[voxhypno]

At a certain point, you just have to accept that you're nothing but a dumb ditzy milk cow. A walking pair of udders, made to be teased and tugged and played with.

It feels so good to think about, doesn't it? There's no worry as a cow, no pressure, except for the pressure building up inside your udders, waiting for the overwhelming pleasure of being milked.

It's so satisfying to put those teats of yours on display. Low-cut tops, no bra, even just walking, and eventually crawling, around the house completely topless. It's just so much better for everyone to see your greatest assets.

Dumber and happier every time they're ogled, squeezed, massaged and groped. That rush of pleasure just washing over your brain so easily, irresistibly, and leaving you giggly and floaty as your udders only feel more and more arousal.

I wonder how long you'll try and resist? Will you fight these urges, struggle against the natural compulsion to keep your udders exposed and ready?

Or are you already clumsily tugging at your teats, pulling your shirt off to show off like a good cow?

Awww, silly heifer. Can't help but shake and bounce those udders, and can't resist giving me a nice, long...

...moooooooo~

[virluce]

captain. wake up. we're in the new episode

[chloesimaginationthings]

The ending of FNAF Help wanted..

[cdpdraws]

trope that makes me crazy.png

[emptea-headed]

Sucking dick is good for edge sluts

Edging while getting someone off with your mouth is so nice. Knowing you cant cum, but that thick, warm cock in your mouth will and youre gonna be a good girl and drink up.

Giving head like your life depends on it. Moaning and sucking, up and down, wishing that cock was in your cunt instead.

[misslexyhypnoyou]

You love it hehe, don’t you deny 🫵🏻

🐮🐮

🤤

[dommebigmommyy]

Very much okay