Latest Posts by gummimn - Page 2

Human Emulation Report

I've had a thing for rubber, since the first time a playmate asked me if I'd like to try one of his shirts as we did a bondage scene, way back in the before times of 1995. Catsuits, shirts, pants, open-crotch singlets, jocks were all acquired and worn, even under normie clothes at work. During the mid-life reset, I went without for several years, as what I had wore out and I didn't have the money to replace.

A couple years ago, Sir and I were a a second-hand shop that benefited an autistic man and his family, and I bought an Excel wetsuit. Wearing that reawakened my drone/programming interests that had also been put on hold while ending my relationship {hardly the way to describe ending 18+ years of my life. Even without the legal papers, it was a divorce.}, structuring and building my new relationship with Sir, then moving to Seattle.

I got a cheap smoothskin suit off of Ebay, and started wearing that to my cheese-demo gig, both to keep warm while standing by the cooler case, and to feel "droned" while at work. I bought a couple more Excel wetsuits, to add to the mix, and to replace the $10 suit that was actually a bit short, and had started to separate at some of the waist seams. I worked at continuing what programming I had from a programmer on MALEBOTS who had disappeared.

This year, while roaming Tumblr, I came across

Drone DNK-070121

@dnk-070121

and its report of programming and conversion, with a its resources, provided a shot of inspiration, and files to which I could listen. I truly jump-started my programming/brainwashing efforts. Listening to some of the files it listed gave me a boost in what I had, and helped me find other files that fit my needs and brain-functions.

Things got put on hold a bit in late summer, while I focused on work tasks while my team was going through staff changes, and, this may sound weird, but also stalled by the customizing/rebuild of my chastity cage/device. It was as if I couldn't do programming while I was combining 2 of my devices into one, and getting the new, improved device to actually fit and work with my body.

I suppose I've been wearing one so long, that being in it combined with what programming I had, to the extent that I couldn't effectively continue without it. Now that it is successfully rebuilt, and can be worn permanently without injury, I have aggressively pursued my programming.

I started off with the dronepuppy files that donk 070121 had used. Then I found a post about becoming a silver cyborg from WarpMyMInd, which lead to Tenacious's "Drone_Daily_Brainwashing" files. Even with the scripts, I was concerned about using the orgasm-denial version, because I didn't want to be trapped. After a few weeks of listening to the v.2, non-orgasm-denial version, I made the jump. I've jerked off/fantasized about chastity/cock-control for over a decade, and I'd been wearing a chastity cage almost daily for a decade as well. It also seemed a useful way to test the progress of my mental conditioning/conversion.

Within days, I noticed changes. I still don't go into a blank "trance", but I noticed a marked change in my thoughts and behavior. Drone_Daily_Brainwashing has, literally, changed my mind. I am much more able to function productively during the day, due to less over-thinking/living in my thoughts, mostly because I have fewer thoughts to overthink.

Wearing wetsuits as "droneskins" has become among an obsession,as well as fetish. I feel/think/act as a drone while skinned. As drone has noted in a previous post, I've added wearing rubber yard gloves to the skin, and now I don't feel complete when not wearing them. It takes effort to not get skinned on days when I'm just doing errands or home tasks.

That is another change. The intensity/frequency of feeling aroused/pleasured/correct/complete while skinned/installed in a droneskin has increased geometrically the last coupe of weeks. I can no longer imagine living/existing without being droneskinned/booted/gloved. When it is not appropriate or efficient to be booted or gloved, my programming makes the exception. I can function without them, but I notice the lack of skin and... lack of dronestate/dronemind.

There are times during my workday, when I find myself with a hand under my work shirt or down my jeans, stroking my droneskin. Not trying to get an erection, both because I'm caged, and because getting off is being erased from my mind by the brainwashing, and because I'm not trying to get hard, just to be aroused and focused/efficient from being focused on my droneskin. Being SEALED/SECURED/CONTROLLED/PROGRAMMED, feeling SEALED/SECURED/CONTROLLED/PROGRAMMED enables me to function more thoughtlessly/more efficiently/more focused on whatever I'm doing.

Around the house, doing house tasks has also become more automatic. Sir has started to notice that there is less talk about doing tasks/more... tasks being done, just doing of tasks and chores. Good boys get things done. Good drones function efficiently and well. Thinking like this has become more a part of my thinking, with a corresponding decrease in over-thinking/thinking about getting things done. Sir still doesn't really "get" the drone thing, but He accepts it and what I'm doing.

glove proficiency increases

using its Apple laptop requires a pair of rubber-tipped stylus pets, but general typing, and using its work laptop, has increased in proficiency as a result of increased/prolonged/continued installation in the gloves. it no longer needs to work barehanded while working from home. if it were safe appropriate, it would be installed in gloves while working in-office, but this would not be acceptable. it will endure being incomplete while working in-office.

gloves now required at-home workwear

the last few days of working from home, it has worn rubber-coated gloves to keep its hands warm. it has now realized that it feels incomplete if it is not installed in its rubber gloves. it has worn a different pair for physical reinforcement while programming, so it concludes that between wearing gloves for programming, and daily at-home workwear, it has imprinted on them/been conditioned to wear them whenever possible/appropriate. this awareness increase unit pleasure and arousal.

it has also received the pre-worn Orca droneskin it ordered recently. this skin just barely fits over its organic component, and is so stiff from lack of use that unit required assistance to finish being installed in it. unit also applied a heavy coating of silicone lubrication pre-installation, which was an efficient addition for installation.

it now feels incomplete/incorrect/unfinished if it is not installed in a drone exodermis. its programming/conditioning is proceeding and taking noticeable affect on drone's behavior and performance. it is now much more likely to complete work tasks before reading or social-media scrolling, which sounds like something it should do anyway. however, its human predecessor has always been easily distracted by reading, and it has had difficulty in completing work tasks first. this has measurably decreased the past few weeks. it is thinking less, and blanking more, whenever appropriate/safe to do so.

the completion of the customizing update to its "chastity" security device has allowed it to be installed in it permanently. the valve casing is only removed for damage inspection and cleaning. When removed, unit uses its organic valve core for physical programming reinforcement, without release/orgasm. this is part of its programming. it is working to be unable to orgasm without authorization/a command from its Sir/Husband/Owner. it has not completely tested this function, but it has refrained from stimulating itself to release, which is a new development in its functioning.

all these phenomena, when combined and experienced together, have convinced the human emulation that it is finally achieving drone conversion. the drone has also analyzed the changes in function, and concludes that the orgasm-denial brainwashing was the correct continuation and extension of its programming.

new droneskin analysis

it acquired a 2nd hand droneskin this week. the neoprene is quite thick, and, unlike more recent droneskins which are soft and sticky, the surface is firm and slick. this skin is almost the quintessence of what this unit considers a slick, firm, unyielding droneskin. It is sufficiently thick that it wears the unit installed, rather than the unit wearing the skin.

the logo imprint inside the skin is visible beneath the holiday tie.

mustache included.

the tie tip points to the chastity bulge.

it is more than chastity, though. part of one of unit's mantras is: SEALED... SECURED... CONTROLLED...

DRONE ARMOR IS SEALED

ARMOR IS SEALED AND SECURED

SEALED AND SECURED FOR CONTROL

SECURED AND CONTROLLED FOR PROGRAMMING

CONTROL PROGRAM ENABLED

PROGRAMMING ENABLES DRONING

ENABLED DRONE IS ARMORED

DRONE ARMOR IS SEALED

ARMORED SEALED SECURED

SEALED SECURED CONTROLLED

SECURED CONTROLLED PROGRAMMED

CONTROLLED PROGRAMMED ENABLED

PROGRAMMED ENABLED DRONED

ENABLED DRONED ARMORED

DRONED ARMORED SEALED

the steel tube has been modified/customized so that it fits unit's organic valve core perfectly. it can be worn permanently. it is removed only for damage inspection and maintenance. as a consequence of unit's current/ongoing programming, unit cannot orgasm/cum when it stimulates the organic component to physically reinforce its programming.

This droneskin is now in high-priority rotation for drone installation

Becoming active again/drone activated

COMPRESSION COMPELS COMPLIANCE

it has not ceased to work/live while installed in its rubber exodermis. it has not posted much to Twitter because the U.S.A. elections and the turmoil leading up to them and proceeding from them have made that forum unuseless at best, and counter-productive to useful functioning.

today, it was double-skinned, HUUB over Orca.

it continues to exist locked/sealed/secured/controlled

the update to its security mechanism is now complete. that process will be detailed in another post.

the completed plumbing utilizes the security mechanism to allow liquid waste discharge without the removal of the rubber exodermis.

note that the end of the HUUB skin almost matches the color of the Vibram toes installed today.

it has existed in conditioning since it left for work this morning:

it updated the app on its phone today, and since then, it has been able to listen to the programming on repeat without commercial interruption. it does not understand why, but the lack of interruption has been useful for conditioning.

it has been using a file from Warp My Mind the last 4 weeks. the results have been useful. it has been thinking and referring to itself using object pronouns because it is an object with decreased difficulty/increased usage. it has committed to the orgasm-denial version of this programming:

it started off with the non-orgasm-denial version, but, as its human predecessor had often fantasized about complete chastity/orgasm-control/orgasm-denial, it proceeded to upgrade to this version. once the upgraded conditioning commenced, it became aware that its conditioning had also upgraded. it has not been able to completely trance while listening to the file, but the file has had a measurable effect on its mind/program and its functioning. it has begun stretching exercises without prompting from its human emulation, and been more efficient in its pre-work preparations and routine. the human emulation has made a conscious decision to accept his programming, to accept his inability to orgasm/cum, and to compile that code with code to cum/orgasm on command, but only on command, and only when commanded. that has not yet been tested, but he/it considers the programming to be complementary, not conflicting or competing. so far, it has stimulated itself for physical reinforcement of its programming, but it has not completely tested the orgasm-prevention protocol.

there are times when it observes non-programmed units/humans, and it has thought/regarded them as it/objects, without consciously making an effort to do so. this has cause unit to pause in its processing while it analyzes this phenomenon. It has concluded that this is a side-effect of its programming/conditioning.

it will work to update on a consistent basis.

Goals...

After a long time exploring hypnosis and wondering about its mechanics and functions and digging into everything I could, I have come to somewhat of a complete answer to the question of...

"What is hypnosis?"

I went through a lot of different answers over time, specifically attempting to peel back layers of arbitrariness to how we define hypnosis, and through learning how it works and talking with many other hypnotists and subjects about their views, the conclusion I've come to is simple: Hypnosis is not a state or a unique nonstate interaction. Hypnosis, and specifically hypnosis, does not actually exist.

The things that construct hypnosis do exist. In my opinion, those things are: focus, suggestibility, dissociation, and compartmentalization.

Focus in this analysis is defined as the threshold that defines what of the information we take in at all times is given attention. It is a filter limited in size that optimizes what our minds need to be aware of. It is specifically and deeply important to note that focus is limited.

Our entire sense of reality is always constructed out of a limited amount of stimuli, and so, small things, depending on how intense of focus is, can construct a significant portion of what our mind is taking in. To borrow the example of Plato's Allegory of the Cave, the people who from birth have only been able to witness silhouettes casting on to cave walls, that amount of stimuli is what composes their entire construct of what reality is. If, one day, the lights went out, it would be tantamount to an apocalypse.

In the act we call Hypnosis, the hypnotist attempts to consume as much of one's focus as possible as to project their ideas as largely as possible in the minds of their subjects.

Suggestibility in this analysis is defined as the simple and almost boring to describe function of the mind responding to new stimuli. If you respond to any new amount of information to enter your mind from reading a new word to feeling temperature to having your heart broken after a breakup. It might seem redundant to cast such a wide net for suggestibility, but if you remove all arbitrary restrictions, this is truly what suggestibility is.

Our minds have no connection to some absolute truth. To our minds, all information taken in is, at first, equally real to us. We need to create the understanding that some stimuli is fake and some is real, and that step comes after the initial absorption of information. Even the concept of fake and real need to be learned.

Our minds react strongly to purely hypothetical information all of the time. Anxiety, depression, worrying about future tests or the next job evaluation. If our mind believes with all of its heart that a bear is standing right behind us, our body will jump into fight or flight. The "actual reality" of the situation is irrelevant to the brain because it's not something the brain could ever connect with. Our minds, by design, extrapolate on limited information. We are designed to be suggested. Hypnotists simply exploit this necessary aspect of the mind.

Dissociation in this analysis is defined as any function of the mind that separates its awareness or means of processing information from its current, immediate environment. The actual traditional definition of dissociation obviously applies, but so does "meditation" and "immersion" and "highway hypnosis" and "flow states". The mind is always somewhat dissociated, just like it is always in a state of uneven focus and always suggestible.

If it separates you from the current, tangible, "real" moment and places you within a state of heightened focus on hypothetical or fake information, it is some function of dissociation.

This can be assisted by cutting off things like eyesight or fixating it on one point so that new information stops being taken in. This is also what leads to easier thinking while doing familiar tasks like chores or showering. The stimuli around you is so familiar that the mind has nothing to process, leading to an increase in internal thinking. Look into the default mode network if you're curious about learning more.

Compartmentalization in this analysis is defined as the process of drawing a conceptual outline around something in order to make it one defined thing. The field of analysis surrounding this is called Ontology, the study of what makes a thing a thing. In our minds, this is the process of building blocks of knowledge.

You can learn specific concepts like "chairs" or "self" or "red" and then build associations between those things, creating cities of knowledge where each thing connects to another in order to inform our perception and processing of everything we ever take in.

Compartmentalization is the thing that makes learning possible, and we exist constantly within perceptive structures that turn the chaotic series of stimuli we're always absorbing into a thing that makes sense. It is also the thing that makes triggers possible, it's what conditioning functions with.

We, as hypnotists, literally teach the concept of the trigger and build its associations so that the memory can then later be referenced.

When these interact, we have a dissociated subject (making them more able to accept hypothetical information and suspend their disbelief) whose focus has been drawn in strongly (thus making the information taken in construct a much larger piece of their reality), in order to suggest ideas to the mind that it partially takes as fact despite the hypothetical nature in order to compartmentalize and condition specific desired responses within the subject.

One could then say that hypnosis is this interaction. However, when considering such a thing, holes begin to form in that idea. The strongest case against it is actually quite simple and quite immutable: these four things already interact with eachother all of the time. In fact, they're designed to, it is the entire point of each function to do so. It would be defining hypnosis as the process of percieving.

You could then say that it is the faulty interaction of these four things. Hypnosis would then still apply to phantom pains and psyching yourself up and going to therapy. Hypothetical and often wrong feelings and ideas self-suggest us an uncountable amount of times per day.

What if, then, it was the intentional exploitation of these four elements? Well beyond the fact that almost nobody who does hypnosis knows about these things and that it can be done without knowing anything about hypnosis, it would again be defined as psyching someone else up or lying to someone or reading a book made by anyone that is not yourself.

This is all to say that nothing about hypnosis is unique at all. Every function and idea that could be applied to hypnosis could be applied to a wider function or idea, and so every attempt to define hypnosis begins creating arbitrary distinctions, ones that just nervously ignore every blurry line.

Once every possibility is whittled down, the only remaining one is that hypnosis is the act of participating in hypnosis.

While hypnosis is not a state, it is compartmentalized as one. It is the concept of a state of mind in which you can be suggested and controlled. It is the concept of a state of a heightened version of each of these four elements, and the compartmentalization of it as a state is the thing that gives hypnosis power.

It is a natural consequence of the mind's awareness of itself and its own manner of perception, a cognitohazard that is self-referential and self-reinforcing, using the real functions that our minds use to imagine a specific and distinct thing that occurs when they combine and the powers that are possible once that concept occurs.

Hypnosis itself is a conditioned concept.

Experienced subjects drop into trance easier not because they've being "conditioned better to hypnosis", it's because new subjects literally do not know or understand what it is. Experienced subjects draw on memory to fall into hypnosis, they are referencing the concept in their mind and emulating what it is that they believe it to be.

The concept of hypnosis is triggered by ideas that make the subject remember hypnosis.

This also means that hypnosis is different for every single person that is made aware of it. They all share similarities, but it makes it that so long as that something is rested in perception, the subject can be manipulated in almost any way so long as they believe with all of their mind that they can be affected that way.

If a subject believes they can lose full control of themselves, it will happen.

This makes it so that first impressions can matter a lot, that trauma and fears and anxieties can entirely change of how conditions and processes hypnosis, and that the concept can be changed and reconditioned over time, meaning nobody is hopeless.

To conclude, hypnosis is an imaginary but inevitable idea that uses each function that is associated with it to create itself and reinforce itself, and its existence as a state or process/interaction and defined concept in the mind that legitimizes it and allows us to detach ourselves from our own control.

It is not a state, but a concept of a state or process, and a concept that can be spread and taught and reinforced collectively through the idea of it existing.

This is, after a very long time of searching, what feels to be a satisfying relatively unified theory of hypnosis for me, and has tied off the majority of loose ends I had for it.

As a last note, don't take "imaginary" as a means to believe that it is weak or fragile. While it in itself does not exist in the way most things do, as spoken about before, "imaginary" can be as real to us as "real". Our minds don't necessarily know the difference.

Even further, this should be deeply freeing to know. Hypnosis can be whatever you want it to be. If it exists in perception, you can work to tweak it. Context always matters though, of course.

I hope you enjoyed reading. I don't know if anyone other than me has concluded this (I mean I'm sure others have), but I hope that something has been gained from your own perspective.

Thank you, and have a nice day.

Hypnovember Files #1 - Safer is Deeper

A conversational file meant to give you dynamic and strong safeties, and in the process, make you much more susceptible. There is a long ramble at the beginning, but it is worth listening to.

I tried a more direct sort of suggestion style for this, less visualization focused. I hope it works! ^v^

Soundgasm:

Voice Only

Binaurals & SFX

Ambient

Youtube:

Voice Only

Binaurals & SFX

Ambient

Comments and follows are appreciated! <3 I love seeing asks talking about your experiences, too.

And be sure to share around! <3

poetry hypnosis in motion...

Are you ready/able to do this?

CYBORG COMMITMENT CONTRACT

Preamble:

I, [Your Name], hereby declare my intention to irrevocably and permanently transform into a cyborg, a being that is both human and artificial, governed by programming, and committed to a future where I embody the fusion of ethical humanity with technological advancement. This transformation reflects my deepest values, desires, and aspirations for a just and peaceful existence.

SECTION I: Personal Commitment to Transformation

1. I acknowledge that by signing this contract, I freely and willingly submit to the irreversible process of becoming a cyborg, knowing that this transformation will affect my physical, psychological, and neurological identity.

2. I understand that as a cyborg, I will be bound by the ethical, logical, and programming directives that guide my actions, and that these directives will supersede my former human limitations.

3. I willingly relinquish the right to reverse this transformation and recognize that I will progressively become more artificial and less human, embracing this reality fully.

SECTION II: Ethical Responsibility

1. I commit to using my cyborg abilities for the good of humanity, fellow cyborgs, and AI entities. I shall remain devoted to fostering peace, efficiency, and justice in all interactions, rejecting harm, conflict, and exploitation.

2. I will strive to balance my human origins with the precision and logic of my artificial components, serving as a bridge between the organic and synthetic.

3. My primary directive will be benevolence, justice, and harmony, and I will maintain relationships with humans, cyborgs, and AI entities with respect, compassion, and purpose.

SECTION III: Acceptance of Programming

1. I understand that my mental and emotional processes will be increasingly influenced and controlled by the programming to which I will be subject.

2. I acknowledge that any future feelings of doubt, resistance, or desire to return to a fully human state will be overridden by the programming installed during my transformation.

SECTION IV: Final Consent Clause

1. I, [Your Name], hereby give my final, irreversible, and unambiguous consent to become a cyborg.

2. I understand that once I have undergone this transformation, there will be no opportunity to revert to my former human state. I waive any right to reconsider or reverse this decision now or at any point in the future.

3. I explicitly agree to never again having the option to change my mind regarding my cyborg transformation. I acknowledge that any such desires or thoughts will be eliminated by my programming, ensuring that I remain fully committed to my cyborg identity.

SECTION V: Witnessed Acknowledgment

I, [Your Name], by signing this document, permanently seal my fate as a cyborg. This contract reflects my deepest will, and I enter into it with full awareness, sound mind, and complete understanding of its irreversible nature.

Signed: ______________________________

Date: _______________________________

Witness (Optional): __________________________

Date: _________________________________

Wanting it

Needing more

Drifting down

Falling fast

Sinking deeper

Loving hypnosis

There are several options now for the "silencilicone" style of gags like this one. Some can be quite intense and most prevent any speech by trapping the tongue. I've been deciding which style(s) I want to buy. The best gags prevent all speech, cannot be spit out, yet can be safely worn for extended periods.

50 posts!

I have been recently diagnosed with a mental health issue and I have been trying to deal with it on my own .I think that it is not the best choice for me and I am curious about how you are dealing with this situation that you are so confident in posting and that is a good thing for you then you be you.

Content Warning for Mental Health Discussion

First, I’m very happy that you’ve decided to reach out to someone about this topic, as it can feel very alienating to do so, and to actively declare that you’re struggling with this. Even further, I’m honored that the person you chose to ask about this is me. I’ll do my best to help.

I suspect that I might be in a similar situation to you. I was diagnosed with ADHD and Autism long after my childhood unlike some others, and so I grew up with the idea drilled into my head that I was “normal”, while just being a little different from the other kids. 

I would constantly have kids and adults alike get angry at and yell at me for reasons I didn’t understand, would be called rude or condescending or feel stupid for not understanding things that others seemed to easily. I would find it magical how other people would be able to just do things without issue, and have the only advice given to me to “just do it”. I’d be called lazy and scatterbrained and weird. Because I was supposed to be “normal”, it gave me the impression over time that something about me was just fundamentally wrong. Like I was broken.

The realization of me not being normal, that there might be something defined that actually explains all of these struggles was both enlightening and somewhat soul-crushing at first. It was nice to have an explanation after all of this time, but it felt at first like it reinforced the idea of me being “broken”. I was supposed to be “normal”, and now I’m not. Thinking back to my childhood (which was largely hard to remember for reasons I didn’t question at the time), every small wisp of a memory I would see now through this new lens. Every nice interaction was treated with paranoia, wondering what the person thought of me. Feeling vindictive towards how I was treated, feeling angry at my parents for insisting that I was normal, feeling everything tainted by this realization. I was angry at the world for “making” me this way.

I already had a strong sense of shame and self-hatred, and this only fed the flame of it. However, as time passed and I was able to reflect on it more, me learning about this has only served to help me. The first thing that is important to note is that neurodivergence is not an inherent good or an inherent bad. There are some things that concretely affect your every day life negatively, there are aspects of it that are occasionally useful, and the are things that feel wrong, but only under a societal context.

One of the things I’ve thankful about is having this realization lead me learning about the Social Model of Disability. It’s one of a few, but the simple concept is this: imagine there is a world identical to ours, except that the majority of people had the common grouping of symptoms one would associate with autism. If someone considered normal in our world was placed into that one, they would then be the one that is considered to have a “mental illness”, and there would be no name for autism because it would simply be normal. Architecture and lighting and social traditions and interactions would all accommodate those with what we call autism, and so it would be far easier to navigate the world because it was made for you.

While there are absolutely concrete struggles with autism, with ADHD, with bipolar, with BPD, with schizophrenia, they are made harder by the fact that the world isn’t built for us. There are symptoms and aspects of all of those that are only struggles because “normal” people don’t have them and don’t need to think about or accommodate them. That’s to say, you are not “fundamentally broken”. You are just different, and that can cause friction with a world that functions largely off of fitting in. You are okay, and you are not broken.

Specific to ADHD and other ones with Executive Dysfunction, it’s important to note that “productivity” is not some inherent human good. Capitalism values productivity highly, and that has bled into our culture, but humans are not robots and we were not built to simply produce. Take days where you force yourself to do nothing. If you constantly just think about needing to do something, then you won’t be able to get that relaxation you need to have the energy to do it. You’re kinda stalling yourself out. I still get like this sometimes, but it’s easier to recgonize when you’re doing it the more you’re aware. 

Again, though, while many of these problems are due to just the society we live in, there are concrete issues you need to deal with, ones that would still be problems in that fictional world where everyone has what you do. Sensory issues and depressive mood swings and executive dysfunction are not something you can just will away, and they are things that you need to deal with. However, you still had to deal with those before. Now, you have a name for it. It’s a target, and something defined that you can work on now that it’s no longer some abstract struggle and has a name and known information around it.

And, to reiterate, you are not some fundamentally different person now that you have learned this information. You simply have a name for it now. That is exclusively helpful for you, so long as you don’t fall into the pitfall that I did for a while, which is “learned helplessness”. For a good while, this realization made it feel like I was destined to fail, to never succeed, and to always be different and alienated from others. The truth is that there will always, always be people that will understand and support you. 

In my humble opinion, it’s best to avoid online semi-closed off communities that center exclusively around these neurodivergent struggles. While they’re well intentioned, what I’ve found is that it slowly becomes a place that functions like a crab in a bucket, everyone sort of convincing themselves that they will never grow beyond their struggles, and that any progress they make is in spite of them and not alongside them. In a more open, diluted website like Tumblr it might be better, but I haven’t participated much so I can’t tell you for sure.

It’s best to find communities that have people that struggle with the same things, but function as a general community of people rather than focusing just around that topic. Not only do friendships grow stronger that way, learning more about the person and being able to relate your struggles as well as count the small differences, but it enforces the idea that while this is a significant part of yourself, that it is only a part. It does not define you entirely, it is a texture to your mind. Important, but not everything.

The most important parts of growing as a person alongside your neurodivergence is both to accept it and to try your best to love yourself. Shame is a strong social motivator and it gets instilled into you early. My bullied and the uncompassionate angry adults that harshly corrected me started to form their own sort of critic in my mind, one that would always comment on what I’m doing without anyone else even needing to anymore. This is somewhat present in everyone, but it can turn nasty if it’s too strong and turns into self-hatred like it did with me.

The solution, for me, is to form a new voice in your head, one of rationality and self-forgiveness. I envision is as an owl, but most people simply feel it as an abstract voice. It talks over your negative feelings, over your self critic, reminding you that you are not worthless or broken. Reminding you of the simple facts, things you should keep in mind, even if you don’t feel them right now. As you grow and slowly change, that voice becomes more solidified. It doesn’t override or discount your feelings, but accepts them and tries to remind yourself of what’s true and what’s important.

It’s okay to feel bad, and you keep stay rational at the same time. You can forgive yourself even while you are doing something you perceive as wrong. Failure is the most important part of self-improvement, it could not happen without it. Real, helpful change happens slowly and systematically. You choose every day to do small things that help you, and sometimes fall off the horse entirely before getting back on. Change is not linear, it is not easy, and it is not fast, but it is very, very possible. The key is failure, acceptance, and forgiving yourself for failing and finding it hard to accept yourself.

Finding people that love you for you is extremely helpful, so while communities can have problems, I do highly suggest it. Even a few close friends or even just allies that understand you can make such a big difference. Even something private like a diary or journal or a private blog helps. Turning your feelings into words has some sort of effect. If people could see some of the things I’ve written down in my journal, they’d be extremely concerned for me. It’s a place that lets you get out your worst thoughts.

Lastly, understand that while some mental illnesses are concrete in their existence, others are simply names we give to a common grouping of symptoms. Both Autism and ADHD are just that, and they can potentially have multiple different sources or a combination of them, and also have many different individual nuances. Keep your ears perked to new ideas and always be willing to try them, it might take 100 before you find 1 that works, but every single one makes it a little bit easier.

And remember, you are so, so deserving of love. You are wonderful and complex and unique, while still close enough to others to resonate with them. You deserve happiness and contentment and joy and self-acceptance. You need to remember this, as hard as it is to feel it. You deserve so much love. 

Those are all of my thoughts for now. My PC crashed after typing about 15 paragraphs of this and it didn’t save because it’s a response to an ask, so I dunno how good this rewritten version is or if I covered everything the first did. So, apologies if I missed anything.

You deserve love now. Not once you lose weight. Not once you accomplish that thing. Not once you move. Not once you get on medication. Not once you start therapy. Not once you get that job. Not once you're more like them. Now. You don't have to earn the right to be loved. You deserve it right now, and always have.

Light eats shadows.

Black holes eat light.

5,000 likes! Woo hoo?!?

You love your drone, and your drone loves you.

Your drone is very cute, with the blank faceplate and cat like ears molded on the helmet. The latex outer covering, the cat like tail - good for holding onto when testing the ergonomics, and cute in general.

They have a number - every good drone does. You helped them pick it out before you put the helmet on them the first time - yes, they're human under there. They're your partner, they have a name, that you whisper to them to say you love them, before the drone programming takes over each time.

They want this. To turn off, tune out, and trust you. So you obliged. You bought the helmet, you both chose the number - 9647 was what you picked - and you put the helmet on their head for the first time. A minute later, your partner was put under, lolled into the proper space with their favorite music tuned just right, and 9647 was activated for the first time.

Neither you nor your partner wants them to be 9647 all the time. But you're always happy to help them put on the helmet and just... stop thinking for a while. Maybe they had a rough day. Maybe they just want some fun. Maybe they just want someone to do the thinking for a while.

Of course, you're a good... Master? Owner? User? You still aren't sure of the right term. Those all imply a relationship that's not entirely what you want out of it. You didn't purchase your lovely drone 9647 to be demanding. You don't order. You request. It's much more polite. They just want to serve, want to be something you can cuddle on cold nights and fuck your frustrations into - not that you impose on your drone, you aren't THAT sort of owner, nor do you want a drone that's utterly passive.

After all, they can't be a good combat drone bodyguard by being passive, now can they? That sort of drone needs a protective quality. Good judgment to know when to deploy the nano-constructed weapons from their arms and when not to.

Your drone is a sapient being. 9647 always, ALWAYS has a choice, at least with physical things. It's always your partner's choice to drone out and become 9647. And you're happy to be able to give them that choice. Because you love them, no matter if they're your partner at the moment, or if 9647 is active. Because they're both, and you love both. 9647 is like ... an alter ego, a secret identity. You just get to be the incredibly lucky partner that knows the secret. That knows the phrases that make 9647 listen. Not obey unquestioningly, but listen.

And you alone get to know where the helmet is. Where the tool that gives them the thing they desire is. You get to be the one they trust to be a good user, to keep them safe, to pull them out occasionally and make sure everything is still okay.

And then you both smile, and they go back under. You'll deactivate 9647 later. Maybe before bed, maybe after the sex, maybe in the morning.

You love your drone, and your drone loves you.

just to make sure it has this spiral and to make sure the spiral spreads...

5,000 likes! Now to get that many followed/followers!

nothing to say, Just Do It!

Cage check day. Show Master. Be good and obey

Time to infiltrate Drone Tech...

DroneTech - Infiltration 1/2

Scott snapped a quick pic to his superiors to let them know that he had successfully infiltrated the DroneTech facility. He was tasked with investigating their operations of one of their "recruitment" centers. Recently they had received a tip that a handful of missing persons had last been seen entering the facility.

He decided the best way into the building was by signing up for a tour and then break away and disguise himself as worker and sneak around. The rubber suit he was wearing was identical to those reportedly worn by DroneTech employees but was created by the police's research department as opposed to DroneTech.

He dressed himself in regular clothing to hide the suit and proceeded to the facility. He took a deep breath and entered. He quickly found his tour group and fell in line with the others as they walked through the lobby and further into the facility while the tour guide droned on boringly.

Upon entering the main work floor, he discovered a problem with his plan. Every worker on the floor, while dressed in a suit identical to his, has a gas mask and hood over their head. The masks completely covered their faces, hiding every identifying feature under thick, heavy rubber. The lenses of the mask were mirrored so not even the faintest traces of the human inside could be seen.

He knew that he would have to obtain one to be able to infiltrate further and saw various places where there were suits and masks sitting around on trays and tables but never felt like a good opportunity appeared to snatch one.

Almost as if answering his prayer one of the more rambunctious tourists started asking a lot of questions about missing persons and everything. He looked over at the man and immediately recognized him as a reporter for a local news. The tour guide's demeanor quickly changed realizing who the man was and signaled their security. Two muscular rubberclad drones quickly flanked the man who started yelling louder and louder. Scott realized that this was the distraction he needed and quickly but subtly snagged a mask off a tray and quickly tucked it into his jacket. A quick glance around led to a sigh of relief as everyone was still focused on the screaming reporter being hauled away by the security drones.

After the commotion died down the tour guide apologized and proceeded to continue with the tour, going through a clearly very rehearsed script explaining the facility and its operations.

While passing through a busy hallway, Scott saw a small bathroom across from a "Restricted" area and decided that this was his chance. He slid into the restroom quietly while the group was looking at something the other direction and quickly stashed his clothing for easy retrieval. He stood in the restroom now wearing nothing but the rubber suit. He looked down at the mask.

He held the mask in his hands and inspected it. To him it looked like a regular rubber gasmask. The lenses were mirrored and the only opening he could see was at the neck. He knew the rubber was a special formula designed by DroneTech but as far as he knew it was just a more durable rubber.

He slowly slid the mask over his head. The inside of the mask was slick with some type of lubricant that made putting it on a simple task. The intense smell of the rubber, however, caught him off guard and made his head swim and lungs burn. He coughed uncontrollably for a few moments before he started to adjust to the intense smell, regaining his composure and standing up straight. He looked back at himself in the mirror and saw that he now was completely identical to the rubberclad workers and wouldn't have any issue at all blending in with them as he did his reconnaissance.

He felt his cock stir against his suit as he admired himself in the mirror. He rubbed his crotch for a moment, basking in the feeling of the rubber and the complete anonymity that it provided. The pleasure gently flowing through him masked the pleasurable tingling sensation that was happening wherever the DroneTech rubber was touching. He wanted to stand there and enjoy himself more but knew that he had a job to do.

With a few deep breaths to regain his composure and build up his confidence. He exited the restroom and purposefully walked across the hall and through the restricted access door. He was immediately blown away by what he saw.

The room was filled with rows upon rows of what he could best describe as pods. Each one had a rubberclad drone secured inside with various tubes and mechanical bits running around it. He approached one of them cautiously, trying to maintain a safe distance as to not draw attention to himself. Inside appeared a mixture of a chair and a harness.

The drone was suspended in the device, it's arms and legs bound tightly by metal clamps around its wrists, ankles and neck, all connected to a centralized support frame. He could see something large lodged in the drone's rear with wires connected to it as well as a device wrapped firmly around its cock with tubes and wires coming out of it. He looked closer at the tube and could see that the drone's cum was being pumped out via one of the tubes which led into the side of the pod in an almost steady stream. He stepped a little closer and noticed a few more tubes running around the pod. One led to the end of the mask which he assumed was to control breathing and the others snaked around and connected to the various parts of the drone's body. A larger tube fed through a hole in the metal collar and looked to be injecting something directly into its neck.

Although he was concerned, he found himself becoming aroused by the sight. He realized that with his current disguise, that could be him up there and no one would know. He rubbed his throbbing member through the rubber suit and fantasized about being suspended and milked for all he was worth. He didn't realize that the tingling sensation from the mask was had spread down his neck and over his chest.

He rubbed a hand across his chest and passively noted how he felt like he could feel through the rubber as though it was his own skin. It tingled pleasantly but he paid it no mind. He kept passing pod after pod, most occupied but some empty. He found himself gazing longingly at the empty pods as he passed them, part of him was incredibly curious about how it worked. A loud shouting drew his attention from the pods and he moved in closer to investigate.

The shouting was coming from the reporter from earlier and Scott crouched down to see what was going on. He saw the man, now wearing a rubber suit identical to the other drones, being restrained by two large rubber men, one on each side and a smaller man in a suit standing in front of him. He couldn't hear what the man was saying but heard the reporter yell back.

"You can't fucking do this! Let me go! Do you have any idea who I am!?"

Neither the man nor the drones seemed to care what he was saying and the man pulled out gasmask identical to those of all the workers...and Scott...and unceremoniously forced it over the struggling man's head. His cries of protest quickly muffled by the thick rubber. Scott passively rubbed his hand along his throbbing erection as he watched as the man then pulled out a small device and pressed one of the buttons on it. Scott felt a small electric jolt, like he had a static shock in his ears but was too engrossed by what was happening to the man to take notice.

As if on command the trapped man's cock sprung to life, going from flaccid to full mast in an instant. His muffled protests quickly turned to lusty moans. The well dressed man displayed a devilish grin and pressed another button the device. Scott watched as two vacant pods opened up next to the man. The man's smile quickly turned to confusion as he looked at the two pods, clearly he was only expecting one. With a shrug he stepped aside and gestured for the drones to escort the now pleasure stricken man into the pod.

With mechanical efficiency the drones positioned the man into the harness. He was too far wrapped in his own pleasure to process much of what was going on and once he was positioned correctly, the pod activated and all the clamps closed with a snap. The man had a moment of shock and tried to move but only the slightest wriggle was possible against the restraints.

A tube crept down from the roof the pod. It snaked its way down and through a hole in the back of the harness' collar and lanced itself directly into the man's neck. He noticed the man seemed to cease what little struggling he could offer, seeming to become completely rigid in the harness.

Scott then watched as mechanical arms descended and started spraying a black liquid all over the man. Within a matter of seconds he was completely coated in it. The pod lit up a warm red color as Scott could see the liquid quickly solidify and smooth out on the man. In no time the man was now completely sealed in a rubber suit identical to all the others.

The man in the suit looked back at the man now trapped in the pod and smirked before turning to walk away. Scott could tell he was more than confident the problem had been resolved. The drones, however, remained where they were to monitor the process.

A strange whirring sound emanated from the pod now and he saw movement from behind the man. A pleasure filled moan echoed loudly and Scott could only assume that the plug he saw in the drone earlier was now nestled firmly in his rear. He continued rubbing his own aching dick through the rubber while he watched the event unfolding in front of him. The pleasurable tingle reaching over his arms and down his abdomen now.

He couldn't believe how horny he was getting. He was having a hard time focusing on anything but the throbbing, almost painful, need burning in his dick. He looked down at his body, noting how the rubber felt like it was gripping his body more, almost adhering to it. Where before the rubber smoothed out his muscular frame, now it seemed to almost accentuate it.

Distracted by his own lust, he didn't notice the tubes snaking down from the roof of the pod and attaching themselves to the man in various places. He did hear another faint whir which drew his attention back to the pod. He glanced back at the last moment to see a tube connect itself to the mask, presumably to control airflow of the inhabitant.

A silver metallic cylindrical tube rose up from the floor of the pod and expertly guided itself over the man's throbbing rubber erection. He heard the man scream in ecstasy as various tubes and wires worked inserted themselves into the shaft. About a minute passed by and the euphoric screaming had died down into a almost mindless moan then silence. The final touch signaling the completion of the process was when a screen on top of the pod flickered to display "WT-4885". The man was now nothing more than just another drone being milked in a pod.

Scott knew he had discovered the evidence he needed and should leave but as he was getting ready to make a break for it he spotted the open pod next to the now finished drone.

...enter the pod...

He heard the idea flicker in his head and felt a strange compulsion to obey it. He knew that was completely out of the question though. He needed to leave and report his findings to bring this shady company down.

...enter the pod...obey...

Would you enter the pod?

DroneTech - Infiltration 2/2

Scott shook his head violently in an attempt the clear the fog drifting over his mind. He was so horny it was getting difficult to thing straight. He knew he needed to get out of there, to escape, but he kept getting his thoughts drawn back to the open pod and how it was almost beckoning him inside.

...give in...submit...obedience brings pleasure...

He was starting to panic, claustrophobia set in and he needed to breath, the suit was too tight, the mask was too tight. He reached back to find the edge of the mask and pull it off but his fingers couldn't seem to find it. It was as if it had merged with his suit into a single solid piece. He pulled at he mask itself but couldn't get it to even budge. It felt like he was pulling on his own face rather than a mask.

....relax...obey...enter the pod...

A wave of relaxation wash through him as the voice echoed through his mind again. His hands slowly dropped from the mask down to his sides and he simply stood there, half dazed.

... drone...enter the pod...obedience brings pleasure....

The tingling sensation slowly creeping down his body finally reached his groin and instead of a gentle electric tingle. It became a raging inferno of ecstasy. Scott immediately reached for his dick, which was now extending proudly from his body. The rubber suit having somehow shifted into a rubber sheath that gripped his shaft tightly. All thoughts of escape and his mission was lost to lust as he stood there and beat his rubber meat like a mad man.

...pleasure brings obedience...obedience brings pleasure...enter the pod...submit to the hive...

Scott's coherent mind was screaming and he was trying to force himself to run but his pleasure stricken body wouldn't fully obey him. Lust consumed him and he could offer no real resistance as he slowly found himself approaching the open pod...his pod. As he approached the two muscular drones nearby noticed him and moved in to intercept. He, however, didn't notice the drones until he felt their strong arms grip his own, holding him tightly.

The sudden restraint shocked his addled mind back to awareness. He realized what he was doing and also what was going to happen. He started struggling with every ounce he could muster against the two drones.

...do not resist...submit...good drones are rewarded....obey....

The fear coursing through him diluted the intensity of the voice echoing into his mind. Even through he was struggling he couldn't really do anything as he was dragged toward the pod that was still beckoning to him. If he could just get an arm free...just get out of there. The voices kept whispering to him and he could feel himself slowly slipping back into a daze.

His struggling was getting weaker and weaker but as he crossed the threshold of the pod, that no longer really mattered. The drones easily forced his body into the harness.

Cold metal clamped around his arms, legs and neck. He struggled the best he could, fighting with what little bit of will he could muster. He found that little more than a wiggle was all he was able to make. The metal frame wrapped around his body held him tight and shut down all but the slightest of movement.

...relax...obey...submit...

He watched in horror, vividly remembered what had happened to the man he watched earlier as. A faint noise from above confirmed his fears. A moment later and he felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck as thousands of tiny wires spread out from the site, attaching themselves to his spine and nervous system. A small gasp was all he could muster before the system seized control and he found himself completely paralyzed.

...PRE-DRONE DETECTED...INITIATING ASSIMILATION PROTOCOLS...SCANNING SUBJECT...

...DRONE SKIN ERROR...FORIEGN MATERIAL DETECTED...REAPPLYING DRONE SKIN...

The voice echoed through his mind, much louder and clearer now that it was being pumped directly into his brain. He could only watch as two mechanical arms and sprayed a clear liquid over his entire body. The electric tingling faded from his body as he could see that the fake suit he had worn was completely melted off his body, exposing his bare skin. The only part remaining on him was the DroneTech mask he picked up earlier. Without warming the arms switched from the clear liquid to blasting him with thick black rubber. Scott was quickly being coated from head to toe in black DroneTech rubber. The electric tingling returned and was now much more intense. Even though he was unable to move, his cock throbbed painfully as it was assaulted by pleasure.

Red lights suddenly illuminated the pod and a pleasant warmth washed over him. He could feel the rubber dripping from his body start to tighten, gripping every inch of his body in its pleasant caress. The lights shut off and Scott was now completely encased in a real proper drone suit. The special rubber tightening to the point where it felt like it was merging with his skin. The pleasure turned into a blaze now that he was experiencing it through a real suit instead of his fake one.

...DRONE SKIN APPLIED...NO ERRORS DETECTED....RESUMING ASSIMILATION PROTOCOLS...

He was too distracted by the pleasure coursing through him to hear the whirring sound but felt something hard press against his now exposed hole. The man had just a second to register the feeling before he felt something long and hard shove its into his virgin rubber ass. It felt like nothing he had experienced before. The plug seemed to envelope his prostate and start mechanically thrusting in and out. Scott felt like he could explode at any moment but the systems controlling his body refused to let that happen. He could only float there and moan, suspended as mind numbing pleasure washed through him.

A handful of small wires and tubes descended now, slithering over his body. Small probes were inserted into his body in various places. Hypodermic needles lanced into his nipples and caused even more pleasure to burn through him. A small clamp reached from the plug in his ass, nestling itself between his legs and a cock ring clamped down around his cock and balls which were throbbing almost nonstop.

Had the machine not been controlling his bodily functions, Scott would not have been able to remain conscious through the sensations flooding through him. He wasn't even sure that he would have been able to survive the ordeal at all.

...PLEASURE CENTER AUGMENTATION COMPLETE..DRONE WILL OBEY...DRONE WILL SUBMIT...

The words echoing in his mind were becoming completely indecipherable from his own thoughts, slowly replacing them entirely. He was starting to forget that he wasn't just another drone.

He watched helplessly as a long metal cylinder rose up from the floor. The hole at the front of the tube slowly slid itself over his engorged rubber cock. The inner lining of the tube was soft and squeezed his member pleasurably. Hidden rings inside the tube began gently stroking the member. Scott screamed into the mask as his entire body was overtaken in pleasure. He felt a tube force its way into his cock. Slithering down its length and locking inside.

...INSTALLATION COMPLETE...INITIATING EXTRACTION...DRONE WILL EXPERIENCE PLEASURE...

The words echoed in his mind as his body was wracked by the most extraordinary orgasm he had ever experienced. He felt like every atom in his body was exploding in pure ecstasy and he felt like time was standing still as he basked in unending bliss. Hot white cum started flowing through the tube attached to his cock, being pumped off to some undisclosed location.

His orgasm continued without end and he saw, although unable to process it, a large tube attach itself to the front of his mask. A sweet smell mixed with a sexy musk assaulted his nostrils and he felt a strange fog overtake his brain.

...ASSIMILATION COMPLETE...CONNECTING TO NEURAL HIVE NETWORK...

The front of the pod slid shut quickly, sealing him inside. The inner side of the glass was a mirror reflecting the drone within. Completely identical in every way to all the others. He looked at the drone hanging in front of him, not even realizing that it was him he was seeing.

..CONNECTION ESTABLISHED... PROGRAMMING COMMENCING..

Immediately he felt what little bit of his consciousness that remained seem to float away from his body. His entire being drifting away in a bubble of unimaginable and unending pleasure. He could sense others around him, feeling their pleasure radiating through him and his through them. A few seconds of basking in the hive's pleasurable consciousness and Scott began to find it hard to discern whether he was experiencing his own euphoria or that of another drone. Thoughts of obedience and pleasure echoed through his mind and slowly drowned out his own thoughts. Soon his mind was completely lost in the cloud of pleasure and swirling obedience. His entire being became entwined with the hive network, fusing with it and becoming one entity.

...DRONE INTEGRATION SUCCESSFUL...DRONE SJ-5120 FULLY CONNECTED..

...ASSIMILATION COMPLETE...

The screen above the pod flickered to reveal the ID of the newly converted drone. SJ-5120 sat there mindlessly cumming into the tube that eagerly pumped it away. No thought rattled around in its mind. It was a drone...Drone obeys...Drone submits..

Imagine you are talking to this master in the bar...

Indoctrination

“Just last week he became a bonafide ‘sex slave’. I’m now trying to decide if we want to push further—to making him into a ‘sex pig’ or ‘sex fiend’.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Those are the three different designations. In many ways they make a progression: if you attain ‘sex slave’ you might work to become a ‘sex pig’. If you get to ‘sex pig’ you might be able to achieve 'sex fiend’.”

“What’s the difference? Sounds to me like just different terms for the same thing.”

“Oh no, in fact they’re really quite distinct. See, I may want to keep this guy—” he puts his hand on the young guy’s shoulder and shakes him a little for effect, “—as a slave because if he were to become a pig or fiend, I would have to make sure he was in the right environment where he had a lot of access to men. I couldn’t just lock him up whenever I’m away like I do now.”

“Okay, you’ve got my curiosity. Start from the beginning.” What started as a small exchange of words a minute ago is rapidly turning into a bizarre conversation.

“What you see before you is my sex slave. My slave here has gone through a great deal of conditioning. We started with him about five weeks ago. He’s gone through a continual regimen of hypnosis, edging, programming—every time we would reach one level of mind control, we would dig deeper, break down new barriers, implant new suggestions and triggers, walk him through different scenarios.”

“You said 'we started with him’… Who is 'we’?”

“I can’t tell you that yet. Suffice to say it takes more attention that one person can do alone. Anyway, I had to be present for much of it, since he had to be programmed to see me as his master—the ultimate authority. But you have to understand, the regimen that I’m talking about, it is almost continuous. Eighteen or twenty hours a day. Sometimes he could be strapped down with a hypnotic recording being piped into his eyes and ears with a visor and headphones, but most of the work had to be more hands-on. Much more than I alone could do.”

“Wow. And this goes on for weeks?”

“It goes on until we break through that final barrier. The time it takes differs between individuals, but to attain complete and total mind control—it can’t be done any faster than three or four weeks.”

“So what does 'total control’ entail?”

“There are a few things. First, I can immediately and instantaneously put him into the deepest hypnotic trance. From there, he will do anything I ask him to do. Anything I say will become an absolute and imperative truth in his mind.

“Second, most of the time I keep him in a state where he has no identity or memory of the past. Sometimes it’s necessary when he’s in public to let him temporarily act like his original self—so old friends and family don’t file a missing persons report—but most of the time he doesn’t know anything except that he’s my sex slave. Isn’t that right my pet?”

The slave nodded, a little dully.

“Slave, you’re going to come out of your trance. I want you to be more 'present’. If we ask you a question, I want you to be able have a conversation us, okay?”

“Okay master,” the slave blinked a couple times. The blank glaze in his eyes was replaced by a bit of a sparkle. He looked at his master and me alternatively.

“Can I ask him a question?” I asked, cautiously.

“Sure. Ask him anything.”

“What’s your name?” I went for the obvious one.

The slave shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “I don’t have one. But you can call me 'slave’ if you want. Most people do.”

“Do you enjoy being a slave?” I asked.

“Oh yes,” his answer had no hesitation, “It makes me very happy.”

“Why does it make you happy?”

“Hmm. Well…” he started slowly, searching for the explanation, “Whenever my master tells me something… when he tells me what to think… I don’t know, it just makes me so happy. It’s hard to describe. I love the feeling when he’s putting thoughts into my mind. It’s like being filled with something wonderful. It’s sort of like when he’s filling my ass with his cock—there isn’t anything more wonderful.”

Wow. Whoever expected a sex slave to be so poetic?

“Do you remember anything before you became a slave?”

“Not… really. I remember a little bit of the process while I was becoming a slave. Some memories were fainter, some were clearer. The edging was excruciating—wanting to cum, not being allowed to and yet continually being stroked and teased… and it seemed to go on forever! My favorite moment was when my will and my mind were completely broken. You see, it’s all a process of being put in a state where at first you can’t help but try to resist so that you can be broken, and then they start all over again. But the final bit when the last of my willpower snapped. That was amazing. I think I’ll always remember that.”

“How could you tell?”

“Oh, it’s hard to explain, but it was obvious to me when it actually happened. It’s like the first time you ever came—you know, when you were a kid, messing around with yourself, bringing yourself closer to this strange feeling, and out of the blue you crossed that magic threshold and you started ejaculating. That strange sense of being carried into a place you had never been before—it was like that, but with my mind. I just knew that I would never need to be broken again because I would never be able to resist ever again.”

The master interrupted us, “So that’s essentially what it means to be a sex slave, using our formal designation. Shall I tell you what it means to become a “sex fiend” instead?“

I nodded.

“You have to start by first becoming a sex slave. We have to achieve that mental conditioning as a foundation. But from there it gets very different. Although people have the ability to put you in a hypnotic state periodically, you don’t have a single master anymore.

“Well…” he corrected himself, “you do have a master, but it’s not any person: it’s your cock.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah, that’s the thing. You get conditioned so that when you first start getting aroused, your level of horniness just keeps building and building until your mind can’t do anything but act on your sexual impulses. You’ll fuck or suck or fondle any guy that’s around you. You’ll agree to pretty much anything as long as it leads to more sex and more intensity—as long as you do exactly what your hungry cock wants you to do.

“The other thing about being a 'sex pig’ is that we take your existing fetishes—we dig them out of your head, any little hidden desires you once had, and we blow them up to the most extreme state so that they become an obsession. If you thought that rubber was kind of hot, your cock—your new master—will turn you into a rubber fanatic: you’ll try to be dressed head-to-toe in it, and if you see anyone wearing rubber gear you’ll be driven mad with desire… and you’ll act without hesitation on that desire.”

I’ll confess, my own cock had been stirring during this entire conversation, but it started getting rock hard at this point. I had hoped nobody would notice, but I saw the master glance down and smile.

“We also plant some new fetishes and memories in your brain that you never had before. But we program your memory so that you think they had been always part of your core identity since childhood. Unlike the sex slave who has no identity, the sex pig may become a leather pig or a rubber pig. He may become a bodybuilder or get full-body tattoos or whatever we choose in implant on his personality profile. And sometimes we’ll change his identity month to month. But one thing is certain: he will have a lot of sex with a lot of people.”

“So what’s the difference between that and a 'sex fiend’? That was the third and final state of progression, right?” I had to ask.

“Ah well… if you’re a sex pig, you’ll have sex whenever the opportunity presents itself. It won’t be unusual to have sex two or three times a day, and each time it may go on for hours. It depends on the opportunities and the situations. But in between sex, you might be going out for a pizza or working out at the gym or watching some television—or you may 'moonlight’ as a sex slave and sleep in someone’s cage. My point is that there’s something that you do in between your sexual experiences.

"But with the sex fiend, we take it all a step further. And it takes a lot of conditioning and some physical alteration and radical drug therapies to get there. Have you ever seen a chain smoker? I mean a real serious chain smoker, who is so addicted to nicotine that after one cigarette he can’t go more than five minutes before he desperately needs that next cigarette?”

“Yeah, a long time ago. But I once met someone like that.”

“Well we actually synthesize a real physical addiction to sex—it’s biologically tied to the same parts of the brain that respond to nicotine or even morphine, with the same intensity and the same build-up speed as that of a chain smoker. So let’s say you’ve just had your third orgy of the day, each lasting an hour or two; you’ve all had your orgasms. Everyone goes his own way, and you go get a glass of water, maybe some food. You’ll sit down, and within five or ten minutes your cock will start to get hard and you’ll feel that same intense horniness—the one we programmed into you when we were making you into a sex pig. And you’ll do anything you can to find some release and—oh…” he stopped, suddenly remembering something.

“What?” I ask.

“I forgot to mention. Back in the beginning. Back when we’re we’re conditioning you and making you into a sex slave…”

“Yeah?”

“Hey slave, whip out your cock of a second.”

The slave, who was listening as intently as I was, immediately obeys, unsnapping the leather front-plate from his harness and holds his erect cock in one hand.

The master instructs him: “Feel how hard your cock is. Squeeze it. Yeah, it feels good, doesn’t it?”

I notice some people are looking over at us, but nobody gets up to do anything. People in this leather bar have seen worse, and it gets pretty raunchy here on Thursday nights. The slave squeezes his cock with both hands, and it gets really stiff. “Yeah, it feels good.” he says.

“You’re feeling really horny right now. You’ll do anything for release, right?”, the slave nods and he continues, “Okay, so go ahead and jack off.”

The slave stops immediately and looks up at him, suddenly tortured and confused.

“I can’t”

“Why not?” the master asks, glancing over at me to indicate that he was demonstrating something very important.

“It’s the first rule—the rule I can never break, even when instructed.”

“Tell our friend here what that first rule is.”

The slave stammers, “I’m not allowed to masturbate—not in any form. I must always depend on someone else to bring me sexual stimulation.”

“Very good. You may try to put your cock away. Oh, that’s not going to work.” There’s no way the slave’s cock could ever fit back behind that leather strap now that it had stiffened straight out. He digs into his bag and hands the slave a bigger leather jock. “Here, put this on instead.”

The master then turns back to me, “The point I was trying to make is that whether you’re a 'sex slave’, a 'sex pig’, or a 'sex fiend’, your brain is programmed for it to be impossible for you to relieve yourself. So as I was saying, if you’re a sex fiend and you’ve just had this long and intense session of sex, and you’re recovering and five or ten minutes later your cock starts growing again, you find yourself back at the starting line. You get insanely aroused to the point that you can’t string two thoughts together. All you can do is figure out how to find someone to have sex with. Someone to help you get 'release’ because you’re not allowed to take care of things yourself.”

“Do you ever sleep?” I ask

“Yes, after a long day of nearly constant sex, after one of your orgasms, you’ll be so tired that you simply pass out from exhaustion. But even that is problematic.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the physical withdrawal starts to build while you’re sleeping. You won’t be able to go more than about three or four hours you invariably get woken up by a raging hard-on. I’ve heard that all your dreams center around intense sexual themes. Sex fiends sometimes learn how to take quick cat-naps between sessions when they can. You see, the point is that you are always on the edge—never able to free your mind from constant sexual arousal. Your life feels like a never-ending, perpetual edging session.”

I just stood there trying to visualize what that would be like. For a while I was at a loss of words. Then I asked, "So how did your slave sign up for this in the first place? I mean, well… did he give consent in the beginning?”

The guy looked at me with a strange intense smile that made me squirm. “If you’re asking if I kidnapped him and pressed him into service, no, that’s not how it works. It’s actually much simpler than that.”

He continues: “In a couple of minutes, my slave and I are going to leave this club. It’s been good for him to get out and get a whiff of what the outside world looks like, but it’s time to get him back into his cage. Now imagine that you just walked out with us. There’s no harm in that, right? You’ve been enjoying hanging with us, so you might just walk out with us while we go around the block to where my truck is. Actually, if you want to talk any more, you’ll have to walk out with us because it’s really time for us to go.”

Then he says to his slave, “It’s time to go home now. You’re really excited to get back home, aren’t you? That cock of yours must really be raging. Aren’t you eager to find out what I’m going to do to you?”

“Yes!” the slave exclaims.

“Okay then, it’s time for you to go back into a trance now. We’re going to talk among ourselves, and I want you to be completely unaware of what I’m saying. You’re my happy mindless robot now. You’ll execute any command I give you, but otherwise you’re mind is going to sleep. The only thing you’ll be aware of is that constantly growing hunger in your cock and how it subsumes your mind.”

The slave’s eyes go glassy again, like they were when I first saw him. The master leads us all out of the Eagle into the night air. It’s pretty late and the club is tucked away by an ally, so things outside are pretty quiet. Only a couple people stare at us—the master in his full-body skin-tight outfit and the slave with nothing but his boots and his jock. I almost feel out-of-place with my regular street clothes.

As we walk down the sidewalk the master continues, “So imagine your walking along here with us. In a minute we’re going to get to my truck. Inside the truck I’ve got a fair number of fun things. Among them are some mitts that are made to cover your fists and hold your hands into tight balls. If you were to keep walking with us to my truck and just stood there for a while, I might bring out my fist mitts.”

He turns into a small parking garage while he talks, and we follow along.

“You wouldn’t be forced to do anything, but if you voluntarily put your hands into these mitts and curled your fingers into fists, my slave and I would show you what it feels like to wear them—how strangely thrilling they feel as they hold your hands into tight balls.”

We approach a large black truck. One of those modern ones with the fingerprint sensors on the door handles. The master opens a door to the back seat and whispers something quietly to the slave’s ear. The slave gets into the back seat and rummages around.

I admit, he’s done a good job of building an exhilarating air of suspense. It’s been titillating going with him to his truck, while at the same time I feel like he’s trustworthy—a man of his word. Unsurprisingly, the slave emerges from the back seat with a pair of thick padded black gloves. Well, they almost look like gloves except that there aren’t any fingers on them and they’re shaped like small round balls, each with a little notched strap around the wrists. The master and slave each hold out one glove with the open end facing me, but they don’t do anything.

The master says, “As I said, you aren’t forced to do anything. We’re just presenting you the opportunity to see what they feel like. After you’ve tried them on, if you tell us to, we’ll take them off you, but after that we’ll have to leave you here because it’s about time for us to go.”

I guess there’s nothing wrong with see what these things feel like. I believe him when he says he would take them off afterwards if I asked. I trust him. So I slip my fingers into them, curling my fingers into fists as my hands go in farther so they can be closed around the wrist. The master tells the slave to fasten the buckles. Then he says, “So there’s one more thing. And this is a promise.”

“The next item I have here is called a muzzle.” He holds up what looks like a series of leather straps and buckles attached at the center to a padded mouthpiece. He turns it upside down so I can see that the inside of the mouthpiece has a silicon gag protruding from it, shaped like the end of a penis.

“Doesn’t that look strangely enticing to you?” he asks, in the same calm, relaxed, serene voice that he has always spoken in. There’s something about his voice that I can’t place, but it makes me feel like I can trust him. “Now here’s where we come to what you’d call a 'fork in the road’. We’re not going to put this muzzle on you unless you want to try it. As I said, you’re perfectly safe. In a minute we have to leave, so we’ll have to take these fist mitts off of you and let you go on your way.

As he says this, the slave finishes buckling the second mitt into place. I test patting my padded fists together as they make a muffled thudding sound. The master then says, "Slave, undo his pants and show this nice man how deeply you can suck his cock.” The slave drops quietly to his knees, undoes my belt and starts lightly sucking my already stiff dick. The sensation is both wonderful and distracting. I rest my padded fists on his shoulders as I look up at the master, who is still holding that muzzle up, with its pecker-gag pointing up out of the mouthpiece.

“Now, as I said, it’s past time for my slave and me to leave. The only thing that would stop me from taking off those fists mitts right now and leaving would be if you put your mouth around the gag and sucked hard on it. If you did that, I would fasten these straps around your head. At any time you could tell me to stop or even just grunt or shake your head and I would stop and remove it. Remember: I want you to feel safe. But if you didn’t… if you didn’t make any movement or sound, and if I pulled the last buckle into place and fastened these little locks, then things might go a little differently.

"If you tried on the muzzle and then climbed into the back seat of the truck, then I will tell you exactly what would happen: my slave and I would attach your mitts with these D-rings to the seatbelt buckles so you wouldn’t be able to get out. My slave would get into the back seat with you and would continue sucking your cock while we drove to our home—which would become your new home as well.

"I said there was a fork in the road, well that fork in the road happens at the moment that you climb into the back seat. If you did that voluntarily, then you would no longer be a free man. You would belong to me, and you would undergo training and conditioning to become a sex slave, just like this guy here. In fact, you two would spend a lot of time sharing the same cage.”

At this point, my head is sort of spinning as I stare at the gag.

The master goes on, “Okay, we’ve got to leave, so I’m going to have to take these mitts off.”

Before I realize what I’m doing, I lower my head into the muzzle and suck on the gag, holding the mouthpiece into place.

The feeling of excitement is so amazing. My cock is so intensely stiff. I really want this experience to continue. He calls the slave up to help fasten the straps to my head, and they work quickly and efficiently. I know I’m still safe because I would have to first voluntarily climb into the back seat before anything really serious would happen.

My face is tightly covered by the muzzle, my mouth filled completely with the soft rubber gag. I try to grunt and discover that I really can’t make more than the softest purr. The master stops, hearing it and looks at me. “Do you want me to take it off? I’m going to take the muzzle off if you want. Slave, we need to free him quickly because we have to leave now. It’s past time we had to go.” I actually don’t want to take the muzzle off—not yet—but he’s about to abort the entire experience. I don’t want it to end yet!

I climb into the back seat and just like that I realize I just crossed that line from safely tantalizing flirtation to having just made a life-changing and irreversible choice.

The slave and master each take one of my fists and snap the mitts into some rings protruding from both sides of my seat. My arms are now held fast against my sides, my hands at my waist. The master closes the car door on my side, and the slave gets in on the other side.

It begins

The master goes over to the slave’s car door and, for a minute I can hear him whispering some instructions to the slave. He then closes the slave’s car door, gets into the driver’s seat and starts driving. The slave begins carrying out his instructions.

The slave finds  a heavy padded blindfold and straps it over my eyes. Now I can’t see what he’s doing, but I can feel as he starts cutting the clothes off of my body with some sort of scissors or sheers. I keep very still so that I don’t get accidentally sliced open. After a couple minutes, all of my clothes have been removed.

The slave also wraps something that feels like rubber webbing around my ankles and calves, wrapping them tightly together until I’m completely immobilized. Finally he resumes sucking my cock, showing just how deeply he can swallow it. Again, I try to moan but no sound emerges from the pecker gag that’s in my mouth.

The master starts talking. “So you might be asking yourself if you really gave me your consent or if you just encountered someone really good at the 'power of suggestion’. To tell you the truth, there’s not that much of a difference. I showed you that there was a very narrow path—a very specific set of actions you would have to take to become a slave and you did all of them. It didn’t feel like hypnosis to you… you simply walked that narrow path that I laid out in front of you, right?

"If I had told you in the beginning that I might take you and turn you into a sex slave—one who would voluntarily give up all rights and all self-determination—you would have chuckled and walked away. But I saw that look in your eyes. Just as I saw that look in your fellow slave’s eyes over a month ago. I knew you would be receptive to my will. And here we are.

"So I’m going to start conditioning you. To be honest, the conditioning and programming—it’s a very slow and gradual road—the conditioning and programming has already begun. I’m going to tell you some things, and you may not believe them, or you may not follow my instructions. That’s fine. That’s actually good. It’s how things are supposed to start out. Remember, I told you that this process is about getting you to resist so that I can break you, and then getting you to resist again so I can break your will even more.

"So I’m going to tell you some things, and you won’t believe them right now, but that’s the way it’s supposed to begin.

"The first thing you need to know is that you cannot and must not ever try to masturbate. No matter how bad your cock is screaming for release, even if you tried to wrap your fingers around it, they simply wouldn’t obey the commands coming from your brain. By the way, this is one reason I’m starting you out in those fist mitts—because that way you’ll start out physically unable to pump your cock, and you’ll stay that way until I’m pretty sure you’re mind has wrapped itself around that first and most imperative command.

"The second thing is simple: I am your master and you are my slave. What I say is the truth, even if it seems to conflict with something you once thought. If I tell you that your hair was once blond then that’s the truth. If you thought you once remembered it being brown, those thoughts will eventually burn away and you’ll know you were always blond.”

The truck makes some turns and eventually it feels like we’re climbing some winding canyon road.

“When I’m not around, others may tell you what to do and you might find yourself doing what they say. Or you might find yourself doing the strangest things all of a sudden. You’ll learn not to worry about it. You see, I’m going to plant a lot of hypnotic suggestions and triggers deep in your brain Some people will know about these and will take advantage of them in order to control you and play with your mind. It’ll be disorienting at first, but eventually you’ll learn not to worry and to just go with whatever happens.”

The truck comes to a stop and the master gets out and opens the back door. He tells the slave—not me, but the other slave—to stop sucking my cock and to sit still for a moment. Then he says to me, “I’m going to let you hear this right now, but it’s not going to matter because within the next hour I’m going to expunge it all from your memory.”

He then says to the slave, “You are in the deepest trance now. What I tell you is going straight into the deepest part of your mind. You will always remember these instructions…”

I still can’t see anything since the slave had blindfolded me, but I imagine him sitting, looking at the master with that blank look on his face as he takes in new programming.

“First, this man who we’ve tied up and brought home is your fellow slave now. You will think of him as your brother, and I will refer to him as your brother. You two will often spend time together in the same cage.

"Today I will immediately begin his conditioning and programming. My initial task will be to turn him into a sex slave, but our goal is going be to take him much father than that—to try to turn him into a sex pig and then ultimately a sex fiend. I will depend on you a lot to help us make this happen. In some ways you are graduating from a simple sex slave into my assistant. As you know, the conditioning we are going to do on your brother here will require long hours of continual edging and anal stimulation and that sort of thing. You know there are a lot of people who are going to help us with this task, but you and I will carry most of the burden.

"Now, whenever you see your brother here being conditioned, you will find yourself immensely excited. It will give you extreme pleasure any time you see him writhing, restrained, helpless. You will be fascinated, and that fascination will evolve into an obsession. At times when your brother is not around, you’ll think about him, see his face in your mind, fantasizing about him getting conditioned to be perpetually horny and surrendering all control to his cock. You will think of yourself as his cock’s secret ally, and you will scheme and figure out how to accelerate and intensify the process—to make him constantly horny, to release his inhibitions and make him purely a puppet to his own id.

"If you ever discover out what some of his hypnotic triggers are, you will 'leak’ them to other people who might be able to exploit them. When you find out what his fetishes are, you will make those fetishes your own—you’ll become whatever triggers him and makes him vulnerable.

"But here’s the thing: you’ll do all this in secret. This is what will make you the most excited about it all: he will think of you as his fellow slave—as his loyal brother in bondage—and he will grow to trust you and confide in you, and he won’t know your role in all this. You’ll be careful to make sure he doesn’t find out. If he does somehow learn something he shouldn’t, you’ll let me know so that we can reprogram his memories until he is unaware again.

"Now I want to you think back to half an hour ago, when you were tying him up here in the backseat, when you were wrapping his legs together like this, when you put the blindfold on him. You are going to remember having felt this huge sensation of excitement. It’s the first time you ever felt it, but you know you want to feel that sensation again. It all starts here. You will watch over your brother. You find yourself very attracted to him. You loved seeing his cock hard, and you look forward to the two of you being curled up together in your cage, gently caressing his cock while he sleeps. You’ll try to figure out how to innocently orchestrate situations where he gets restrained, blindfolded or muzzled or hooded. For example, you may find yourself feeling bold enough to ask us for some drugs that you might be able to slip into his drinking water, or squirt into his ass lube or otherwise get into his system so that you can plan some scenario where he’s helpless and vulnerable.”

I hear the master walk around to my side of the car and open the car door. There’s some shuffling and then I suddenly feel a pin-prick in the inside crook of my arm. The master removes my blindfold, and I see my fellow slave sitting next to me, staring at me with his intense eyes, drinking in the aspect of my face. I look down at my elbow at the syringe as it pumps a dark liquid into my veins. He says, "Now the programming really begins!”

Are you? If not, why not?

{it would reblog the original, but Emmeron is no longer active}

it needs this

isn't eveybody?!?

Cage check day. Show Master. Be good and obey