#hypnotic sex

[totallyshattered]

5-Star Ride

Alison's plane touched down, and she was so relieved to finally be home!

She trudged off the plane, still in the button-down blouse, pencil skirt and heels she'd been wearing in Chicago. In the rush to get out of her hotel room that morning, Alison had forgotten to pack her duffel bag with a change of clothes for the flight. She hadn't realized the mistake until after she checked her suitcase. and the uncomfortable clothes just added to her weariness.

The whole trip had been exhausting. Well, less of a trip, more of a tour. Alison hadn't been home in almost 3 months. She worked as an aide and layout designer to an advertising executive, Mr. Alexander Tennyson, and they'd been doing a cross country campaign for a new pharmaceutical product line.

She���d been transferred under Mr. Tennyson specifically for the campaign and had spent nearly every waking moment of the previous six months with him. He was a tall, Oxford-educated man of African descent with impeccable taste and skill at their business. His deep voice, chiseled features, well-pressed suits, and almost imperial manner had enamored Alison the entire time.

Alison had been at his beck and call, working on the project itself, running errands, getting food, and doing everything Mr. Tennyson and the firm had needed. She’d gotten PAID, but 12-hour days had been the norm, they were in a new city every few days, and then there had been that little incident where she'd gotten drunk and fucked Mr. Tennyson two weeks before the end of the tour.

She shivered, thinking about it. It had been incredible. She'd fantasized about him since she was transferred under him, and when they'd finally hooked up, he was so manly and masterful, he took complete control of the night, and she had let him do things she'd never have dreamed.

But, in the cold light of day, she'd been mortified that she'd given in to her lusts and had rejected him far too harshly the next morning when Mr. Tennyson had tried to broach the subject. The hurt in his eyes haunted her, and the cold deadness that followed had made her cry in her lonely hotel room more than once since.

He hadn't mentioned it again, and he'd remained completely professional, but it was obvious that he was still upset and just going through the motions with her. Alison felt she didn't owe him anything, but she knew she'd handled it wrong and was ignoring all of her feelings from the last half-year.

Deep in her own thoughts, she wandered listlessly to baggage pickup, grabbed her suitcase, and headed to the exit while her regrets and snippets of their passionate night spiraled through her brain.

Not that it mattered anymore, she sighed to herself. He’d probably transfer her away soon now that the job was done.

As she neared the exit, Alison pulled out her phone to set up a ride-share home. She changed accounts to select the corporate account, so she didn't have to go through the pain in the ass of expensing it but was only half paying attention as she swiped through the options.

When she hit submit, her phone buzzed, and the app made a sound she hadn't heard before. She frowned and checked the status. It looked normal, scanning for rides, so she shrugged it off.

She exited the airport and was immediately hit by an icy blast that her light overcoat could not compensate for. Alison shrieked and ducked back into the relative shelter the building offered.

Alison asked one of the porters if she could sit inside and wait, but was told, no, all ride-share clients had to sit in the loading zone. She tried to give him the sad kitty face, but no go.

Finally, she trudged out, found a seat in the ride share waiting area, and hugged her arms around herself, shivering.

Then she waited.

And waited.

Aaaaaannnnd waited until, at some point, she dozed off on the bench despite the brisk wind.

Alison dreamed about Mr. Tennyson. Dreamed about begging forgiveness, dreamed about submitting to him again, and dreamed about servicing his every desire.

Sometime later, she was wrenched from her dreamers sleep by a firm shake.

"Hello, young lass, are you waiting for a ride?" Asked a nondescript, middle-aged man in a bomber jacket and newsboy cap. His voice had a slight brogue that she couldn’t identify in her bewildered state.

Alison shook her head, "...ride? Oh, yes! I'm sorry, I was waiting, and I must have dozed off!"

She tried to stand on shaky legs when the driver scolded her, "Sit down, you daft girl. Stay there and let me do my job."

If she were more awake, she probably would have snapped back, but tired as she was, she obeyed his order.

The driver loaded her bags into a surprisingly nice town car and then opened the door, beckoning her inside. Alison was still a bit shaky when she stood, but she made it into the car before collapsing on the seat.

Oooo, she thought, it was so warm in the car, and the seats were even heated!

Now, wrapped in warmth, her sluggishness returned tenfold, and she smiled slightly as the driver got in and began the trip. He called himself Shane and told her he'd get her to her proper destination.

Shane did the normal driver shtick, asking her questions about herself, her trip, her job, etc. Allison answered the questions far less guarded than she would normally because she felt so warm, so drowsy, that she didn’t think to hold back. She only just managed to stop herself from describing her night with Mr. Tennyson.

Shane wasn't fooled, though. He zeroed in on her sudden silence, “Did something happen between you, and your boss?"

Allison flushed, "Um, that's not really your business, Shane."

"Sir," he corrected sharply.

The directness startled Allison, "Wait, what?"

"You should address men properly when they are leading you," he elaborated condescendingly. "I am leading you to your proper destination, you should address me with respect. You call Mr. Tennyson 'sir' when he directs you, don't you?"

Alison's bleary mind tried to latch onto a coherent response, but all that came out was, "Yes, sir."

"Good girl," he responded smugly.

Alison flushed.

"Now, tell me what happened?"

The story flowed out of Alison. Every detail.

Drinking a few too many cocktails at the client mixer.

Shamelessly making out with Mr. Tennyson after the client called it a night.

Grinding on his bulge on the dance floor.

Being ordered to come to his hotel room and practically creaming herself.

Actually cumming when he'd pulled her head down to suck his huge cock from the passenger seat of the rental.

His hidden fingers buried in her cunt from behind while she desperately tried not to make a sound during the seemingly endless elevator ride to his suite.

Being stripped and servicing him on her knees in the entryway of the room.

Giving and getting licked, sucked, and fucked on every surface in the room and in every position Mr. Tennyson twisted her pliable body into.

Feeling his bare rod fill her unprotected pussy with potent cum at least four times before they’d passed out.

Waking up to being taken and filled again during the night, and then falling asleep with his cock in her mouth when he ordered her to clean it with her mouth.

And finally, the shame, the panic she’d felt the next day, and her subsequent mistreatment of her boss.

Alison was mortified, beyond embarrassed, and almost impossibly turned on as she finished the story.

Shane, smirking, but saying nothing, offered her a drink that looked like a flavored sparkling water.

After that whole train wreck, a drink sounded good to her though she wished it was something stronger.  Shouldn’t she be home by now?

The liquid inside was a bright neon pink color, the kind she'd loved as a teen, but had tried to distance herself from as an adult. At that moment, the nostalgic feeling of pink was a comfort instead of an embarrassment.

Alison hesitantly took the bottle, but before she could open it, Shane reached back and grabbed her wrist firmly, but without pain.

"What do you say, girl?" He growled.

Despite her exhaustion, adrenaline spiked through her. Her mind searched for the answer while her eyes were locked with his harsh gaze. Finally, she sputtered out, “Thank you! Uh, sir. Thank you, sir!”

He smiled at her, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Better, but that’s twice. You’d better not forget yourself again on this ride.”

Rattled, Alison finally got the bottle opened and sipped the saccharine liquid, and to her surprise, the drink even tasted pink. She giggled and took another sip, trying to keep her dignity, but just ended up gulping it down, little rivulets of pink escaping her lips dripping on her black coat.

Alison finished the bottle in one long draught and felt a different kind of warmth pour through her. Goosebumps raced down her body as if she was being caressed with slender fingers. She gasped for air at the feeling and then began giggling again.

"Have another," Shane ordered her. Part of Alison tried to rebel against being commanded, but the Pink told her to be a good girl and have another.

“Yes sir. Thank you, sir,” said the Pink Ali.

Alison opened the second bottle and began to gulp the oversweet elixir down. The feelings intensified, and she felt the heat surge through her.

It was so hot, and it felt so good, but at the same time, she was so tired, all she could do was moan, giggle, and drift.

Shane’s voice cut through the haze, “Doesn’t it feel good when you do what you’re told?”

“Uh, um, what?” Mumbled Alison. She couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t think.

“I told you to take a drink, you did it, and then you felt good, right you stupid girl?” Asked Shane.

“Yes… but, the drink,” Alison tried to respond. She felt so strange. Were her clothes tighter? Did her tits always bulge out from her shirt like that?

“No,” he cut her off. “You already felt good when you obeyed, didn’t you?”

“…yes”

“And then when you obeyed again, and took another drink, and it felt even better, correct?”

“Yes…”

“So,” the sneering Shane concluded, “It feels good when you obey.”

“Yes.”

“Good girl, good girl.”

Pink Ali beamed. Yes, she was a good girl, she obeyed.

“It’s proper for a stupid lass like you to obey men.”

“No, not… not stupid,” Alison responded.

“Yes, you are stupid,” Shane confirmed, smirking. “You don’t respect men properly, you don’t have any manners and need instructions like a child, and you tell all of your personal business to perfect strangers. Only stupid girls do that.”

“Yes, yes I’m so stupid,” agreed Ali as Alison subsided again.

“You are a stupid girl. Stupid girls obey and respect men. You should always obey and respect men.”

“Yesss…,” Ali was getting stronger. Her skirt felt tight, her panties wedged between her big ass cheeks.

“It feels good to obey, and stupid girls need to obey men. Men like Mr. Tennyson,” continued Shane.

At the mention of Mr. Tennyson, Ali moaned, “Ohh, yessss…”

“It feels good to obey Mr. Tennyson. You always have to obey him like a servant, don’t you?”

Alison clawed her way back, “No… not always… not a servant… just a job…”

“Stupid girl!” Scolded Shane. Alison winced, tried to hold on. “It is your job to do whatever Mr. Tennyson says to do so he can do his work, yes?”

“Uh, uh, yes,” stammered Alison losing her grip.

“If you have to do whatever he tells you all the time, it means you always obey him, and obedience feels good.”

“Yessss,” Ali agreed, she started rubbing her plumping thighs. They were so smooth. Her nails were so cute and pink.

“You obey everything Mr. Tennyson says, obeying him feels good. Servants always obey, it’s their job. You are his servant.”

“I… I am… servant,” Ali wheezed, feeling so good.

“Good girl,” Shane rewarded Ali. Ali beamed, and her fingers slipped into her thong to rub her pussy.

Shane continued, “You are Mr. Tennyson’s servant. You love to obey him. It feels good. It makes your stupid girl cunt drip.”

“YES” Ali gushed, figuratively and literally.

“You take care of all his needs. Whatever he needs, you obey, right?”

Alison made a desperate surge. “No, not… not everything he needs… Not...  everything…” She was getting weaker and weaker. It felt so good to let Ali talk. It was easier. Felt so good. Why was she trying so hard?

“Yes, everything,” Shane reinforced. “Remember when you took care of his needs as a man. When he told you to follow, you followed. When he told you to suck, you sucked. When he told you to fuck, you fucked. When he told you to cum, you came.”

“Oh yes! Yes!” Ali groaned happily. She began stroking her other fingers across her cock sucking lips. They felt so good, they felt so much bigger, so much more sensitive, like she had another clit on her lips.

“Heehee, pussy mouth,” Ali giggled.

Shane rolled his eyes and continued, “So, obeying Mr. Tennyson doesn’t just feel good. It makes your pussy wet. Stupid girls like you get wet when they obey strong men like Mr. Tennyson.”

“I… I… “ Alison tried to deny it.

“You obey Mr. Tennyson. Obeying him makes your pussy wet. You are wet for Mr. Tennyson. Say it!”

“I get wet from Mr. Tennyson!” cried Ali, exultantly. Her fingers were buried in her pussy now. She pinched the nipple of one of her massive tits that had finally burst free of her blouse.

“If you obey Mr. Tennyson, and obeying makes you wet, and you do anything for him including taking care of his manly needs, you aren’t just a servant, you’re a slave.”

“Noooooo…,” wailed Alison weakly. There wasn’t much left of her.

“You are a stupid girl who only obeys him. Your only value is serving him and servicing him. You help him do his work. You drain his cock. It’s all you’re good for,” Shane grinned at her in his review mirror, enjoying her transformation. “You are his slave.”

“Yes! Yes, Ali is Mr. Tennyson’s slave!” Ali squealed happily. She wanted to cum so bad. She wanted to cum on Mr. Tennyson’s cock.

“Slaves don’t call their owners by their names,” Shane told her. “What do they call him?”

“Mmmmaasstteeerrrrr!!!” Ali exulted. It seemed Alison was gone.

“Good slave,” said Shane, his job done. “Now, don’t cum until your Master tells you. He would be very angry.”

Ali gasped, “Oh no, I’ll be a good girl, I won’t cum until Master says so!” It was so hard, she was so warm, so wet, so horny, she wanted to cummmm. But she had to obey!

Ali continued to edge, the rest of the world forgotten. She vaguely heard Shane talking, but not to her.

“Yes sir, it’s done. I’ll be there in a few minutes. You should bring a blanket. Mmhm. Mmhm. Yes, Mr. Tennyson, I expect payment on delivery”

Ali heard him say Master’s name! She was going to Master! Shane was so nice to take her to Master!

The car finally pulled up to a gated, modest sized, but elegant house with a well-manicured lawn. The electric gate opened, and Shane pulled in.

All 6’4” of Mr. Alexander Tennyson waited at the bottom of the steps, a blanket slung over his arm.

Shane stopped, got out, and opened the passenger door. The smell of sugar and arousal flowed out. Tennyson smirked at the vision inside. A caricature of his assistant sat, head back, eyes closed, fingers pumping in her cunt, awaiting her new life.

“Come here, Alison,” he ordered.

Ali’s eyes fluttered open, and she set her eyes on Master. She cried out for him and leapt from the car. She embraced him and burst into tears.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry,” the tiny remaining shred of Alison sobbed out. “I love you, Master. I always wanted to be yours!”

Tennyson’s face softened. He bent down, wrapped her in the blanket, and lifted her, holding her close to his chest. He whispered to her, “I know, Alison. I forgive you. I love you, too. Now you’re mine forever.”

Ali fell asleep in his arms as Master carried her into her new home.

----------

Shane picked up all the luggage he had stowed in the car and took it into the house and feeling very smug at another job well done.

The Full-Service package was expensive, but he guaranteed satisfaction.

Shane checked his phone, making sure the wire transfer had gone through. He confirmed it, closed the door, and got back into his car.

Just as he was about to drive off, he felt a buzz at his elbow. It was the bimbo’s phone, still open, and sitting on the completed screen for the ride-share app. She’d never even noticed the destination change or the Full-Service package request. Stupid girl.

He picked up the phone, smiled evilly, and rated the trip 5-stars. Shane always took them where they needed to go.

[bi-b0i-band]

🫦Mmm so sweet🩵

[kafka-pilled]

i’m soooo sensitive to fingers snapping it’s unreal. it’s like my brain skips for a second and then i have to regain my train of thought. sure, a sleep command could probably drop me under at that point, but if a different command is given before i’m able to recover, well…

if they snapped and said “suck me”, i’d just have to pull their dick out as quickly as possible and start sucking. i’d just have to. would be so. desperate to obey.

i love that i feel compelled to obey at the snap of a finger.

[chileanhypnotist]

Hypnovember Day #4

Hypnosis can be really fun if you have the opportunity to find the correct person and build a relationship based in trust and confidence.

Today, I wanna share with you a note published in Cosmopolitan, in the year 2022. On this note, the girl tells her history as a living sex-doll.

Do you ever imagine how fun that feeling could be?

Do you imagine yourself like a living sex-doll, or more simple. Just like a doll, puppet or rag-doll

Certainly it's an exciting thought and of course you need to be trained in that way, if you really want to feel this sensation just make sure to do it with the right person.

Always enjoy safety

Link:

[larabray]

Am available for hookup,First in my mouth then right up in my pussy

[cashblightganon]

I want to break your mind.

I want to decimate all the autonomy you lay claim to.

I want to seize every power you think you possess.

I want every dollar you have to your name.

I want you begging to be used.

I want you grateful to be destroyed.

I want you distraught at the thought of keeping anything from Me.

I want you to smile at the negatives in your bank accounts because you know it means you served Me the best you can.

I want your all.

I want you to know you’re Mine.

I want you to live like it.

I am the first thought you have when you wake and the last thing you remember as you drift off to sleep.

I am an itch that demands to be scratched only with service.

I am the picture on the back of your eyelids.

The shadow in the corner of your eye.

I am a monolith to block your vision and the microscopic floaters you can never ignore.

I am illusion.

I am clarity.

I am the spider hanging over your bed.

I am the monster below.

I am what goes squeak and creak and crack and bump in the night.

I am intangible and constant.

Like fear.

[kellygirlcaged]

[anxiousgaypanicking]

follow up to the hypnotic flower ask, one of the sides stumbling upon the other in their dazed state, ready to be (consensually) taken advantage of?👀

i love consensual magical properties who only work of the recipient/victim (i say victim lightly here) wants it to work, even if they don't immediately realize they do (also i dont fully remember the previous hypnotic flower ask so if any of this information is wrong i am so sorry)

one of the sides ends up waltzing into a flower garden - with some flowers that are clearly more prominent and beautiful than the rest. the air around these flowers smells a lot sweeter. so sweet, in fact, the side is quickly dropping to their knees, wondering which creativity created a flower so wonderful. they take in a deep breath, and then let out a hazy moan, crawling further towards the flowers, plucking a few and bringing them to their face to properly inhale

and they stay in this half conscious, dazed, submissive state for however long until somebody else walks by. they call out the sides name, but gets no reply, and so walks into the flower garden to join them

the flowers dont effect them. either because the side doesnt want to be a dizzy, submissive plaything, or because of some undisclosed rule. whatever the reason, the side gently lays the dizzy one in the grass, trying to repress their flush when each brush of their fingers over the others skin makes them moan - even soft, wholesome touches, like brushing their hair from their eyes or wiping the drool from their lips.

side a feels like theyre burning up. theyre just coherent enough to say "please" and "yes" but they say it over and over until side b cant resist, kissing and touching them until theyre basically drunk on secondhand pollen

the sex is sloppy and slow and intimate, both of them are hot and panting into each others mouths. side a keeps their face buried in side bs neck, breathing in the scent of their body likes its a drug, like it's similar to the flowers theyre surrounded by. and side b just cant stop touching and fucking them. they both lose track of time for very different reasons.

and they go and go until side a says stop, eyes hazy and cock empty, and just leans against side b, wordlessly trusting them to take them home and take care of them

its the ultimate subspace, coaxed out by hypnotic pollen and sweet smelling flowers. and though theyre both embarrassed the next morning, neither of them regret a thing, and are actually weirdly close following suit, as if theyre addicted to each other like a bee is to flowers

[corvidclub]

finally saw the 'armand was basically raping louis throughout the entire relationship because mind powers' take in the wild I honestly thought that was a sick joke y'all were making...anyways completely unrelated but does anybody remember how we actually saw on screen louis disassociate during sex with lestat and how makers and fledglings can canonically feel each others emotions and lestat presumably kept having sex with him despite this

[dreampencil]

I think Misha Collins has us hypnotised by some kind of witchy love spell. I think his eyes squirt out lusty love juice through the internets

[cashblightganon]

It’s always “make Me your slave” and “I wanna do anything you want” until I tell you to give Me all your money heheheheheh

All a sudden you get to st-stuttering and tr-tripping on words but did I fkin stutter? No. I said give Me all your money

Are you a slave or not? Because last time My Black ass checked, slaves don’t get paid. Sooo why would you?

No of course you’re not getting paid. You’re just the middleman. You’re the railroad that delivers My money to Me.

So hand it over,

slave.

[larabray]

Am available Am hungry. 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆

[doubledomme]

There has been a deal struck

Once a month, both subs can dom me at the same time. They’ll plan the scene with my limits in place and I won’t know a thing until the night. It will be a full 48 hours of whatever they want with breaks sprinkled in.

Their first night is at the end of this month and then the end of each month after that.

So a special little message from the subs:

Send in your suggestions on how we can absolutely make our domme useless for 48 hours. Our basic plan for the first one is along the line of 48 hours of maid/sex toy. A list of chores with a special little outfit and some special little toys. 1 wants to incorporate some puppy play into it and training. 2 wants to do some hypno the night before.

We know from another domme that our domme can be such a good puppy and oh look she’s blushing. Send in your suggestions and requests. Pleaseeee

[brainwashboy]

Sorry I infodumped about sex toys when you pulled one out. It reminded me of a Wikipedia article I just read. Do you still think I'm mysterious and cool?

[a-dash-in-the-middle]

extra tired, feet hurt, would do it again 10/10