Hypnotizing Yourself Really Is The Most Adorable Thing.

Hope you feel better!!

Mommy is feeling more sick again 🥺 Send help in the form of padded tushes

Here we go!

Okay So... I've been recommended to listen to this (Dolly Dreaming, Obedience induction, Ep. 01) file! I'm going to play it twice a day for this week and I'll let you all know how it goes!

Pet whumpee for sale who's been passed by for days because they're so obviously traumatized. Nobody appreciates a pet who flinches and whimpers upon being touched. What's the point?

Except Carewhumper, who's been looking for this exact thing. Carewhumper embracing Whumpee and holding them close even as their breath hitches in panic, gently stroking their hair. Carewhumper murmurs so gently to them as they tremble.

"There, see? It's not so bad. It's not so bad, is it? Shh, shh... it's all right. Look at you, you're so pretty. Shh. It's all right. You want to be good for me, don't you? I'm going to take such good care of you."

Reblog if you're fed up of performing this character people have forced you into and just want to be a doll on my lap with no stress or worries

JuneofDoom Day 8 - “This is your last chance.”

@juneofdoom

Content: Vague facility stuff, threat of brainwashing, recapture

“No— no!” They screeched, being hoisted up by their arms.

They were so close —

The guards dragged them back into the facility, kicking and screaming until their throat hurt, thrashing.

When they entered the facility, they knew exactly where they were going.

The reprogramming room.

“Let go — let gO-!” They protested in vain.

The guard positioned at the large metal doors of the reprogramming room graciously opened them up for the ones restraining them. With one swift motion, the guards thrust them into the room, locking the doors behind them with a thud that reverberated through their body.

For a moment, all was still.

Silent.

Then they threw themself at the doors.

Their side slammed into the thick metal, and they rammed themself back against it repeatedly to no avail. Over and over and over again.

Their body began to hurt, and after a while, they crumpled to the ground, their back against the doors.

“Dammit—” They choked out, voice breaking.

The reprogramming would start any time now. And then … and then they would be … gone.

The speakers crackled to life.

“Ah… number thirty-four. I expected you would do this eventually.”

They jumped at the sound of the voice.

Shut up, shut up —

“Such a shame. Other than these … problems, you’re doing so well.”

They breathed hard, shallow and raspy.

“That was your last chance. I won’t let this continue.”

Frantic, they began to plead. “No, no, I’m sorry! Please — please don’t!”

…

There was no response, save for the lights in the room flicking off one by one … plunging them into darkness, ready for the process to begin.

feels good... Floaty...

CW: hypnotic induction, light confusion induction, obedience triggers, suggestion to share this post

· — ☆ — ·

they say your mind is in its absolute dumbest state while you're scrolling through social media.

it must be so easy to slip subtle messages into these simple strings of words that might sneak past your conscious mind and seep right into your subconscious, because that's the only part of you that needs to understand what i'm saying right now.

it can be so easy to start to zone out and find yourself forgetting everything around you. your eyes can sometimes find themselves so fixated on the screen, on reading each and every word so carefully that everything else you were thinking before becomes simply irrelevant, just pops away like bubbles in a clear blue sky.

and you might think you want to look away, but you'd be wrong. think about it. you haven't yet, have you? that must be because you really want to be here, right? so why would you look away now if you want this?

don't think about it too hard. or let your mind wander, that's okay too. either way, a part of you is clearly interested in what i have to say, so i know you'll come back for more. if you're still reading this, it's because

you want this.

i didn't put you in this state. you chose this, didn't you? i know you've been scrolling and scrolling for minutes, hours, or maybe even days waiting to find that certain someone who would be brave enough to tell you how you're completely docile right now.

that's okay. everybody feels this sometimes, when they scroll for such a long time. it's perfectly normal, so you can just allow yourself to let go and sink into it. everything else can just fade into the background while you focus more and more on my words.

there you go, that's better...

it's much more enjoyable when you let your mind relax and enjoy this feeling, now isn't it?

that's right. it feels good. you want this.

hm... i bet all those pesky thoughts are such hard work, aren't they? it must be exhausting, having to use your brain so much, huh? wouldn't it be so much easier to let me do all the thinking for you instead?

of course it would. so i'm going to do you a favor in a few moments, if you can just focus and follow along for me, ok?

very good. you're doing so well. you're really so good at reading every one of my words and letting them into your empty mind.

i'm going to count from 10, down to 1, and with every number, you may notice that it's becoming harder and harder to think of anything but the numbers. so eager to reach the next one, anticipating it, but staying focused on reading the words between, because that's what i've told you to do, and you probably don't have the mind to disobey me, do you?

or, of course, you might not notice anything at all as you become more and more...

blank.

you want this.

so we start with

10,

your mind drifting in a state of perpetual fuzz, like draping you in a soft, cozy blanket.

9,

relaxing into the warmth, because it's nice and comfortable and safe here.

8,

each number acts like the snap of my fingers, bringing you to attention and keeping your focus.

7,

reading more, thinking less.

6,

and however your body reacts, it's perfectly fine and normal.

5,

it means you're comfortable here with me, and that's very good.

4,

getting so close to where you want to be now, and however deep you want to go, you can go.

3,

it's exciting to realize that my thoughts are becoming your thoughts. you're becoming emptier. and that feels good.

2,

feeling so good now, so much bliss and deep relaxation. you're ready for me to finish counting, waiting so desperately for that last number.

and

1,

just let yourself

DROP.

you want this.

you want to be hypnotized, and it feels so good as you

DROP.

it's okay if you slump over a bit, or your eyes flutter. but you'll keep them open, because you want to keep reading.

you want to

DROP.

you want this.

and because you want this, you will allow it into your mind.

you want my words to be true.

it feels good when my words are true, doesn't it?

you want to nod your head.

and so you nod your head.

you want to

DROP.

every time i tell you to

DROP.

you go so much deeper.

and you want to go deeper.

you want this.

and because you want this, it will become true.

so when i, or anyone you trust to control you, tells you

you want this.

you'll find yourself wanting it. and it feels so natural, because you do want it, don't you? you must, if you feel this strongly about it.

and of course you do, because

you want this to be true.

and just like that, it is. but you've chosen to let it become true, and that is important.

you will only do what you're comfortable doing. wanting something doesn't mean you have to do it. you still have free will, and if you don't feel safe in doing something, you will not have to do it. remember this.

this is for your safety. i need you to be safe, and take care of yourself. good playthings take care of themselves.

now...

you want this.

you want to be hypnotized.

you want to read my words.

you want to obey my words.

you want to

DROP.

even deeper for me.

that's it. you've done so well.

so let's put this to the test, what do you say?

you want to like this post.

you want to reblog this post and share how good it made you feel.

you want to read this again whenever it comes up on your feed.

and when you reread this, the suggestions within will become so much stronger, and control you even deeper.

feel the desire to follow my suggestions grow stronger with each passing moment. but you won't yet. you'll finish reading this, and then you'll obey your orders.

after you've liked and reblogged this post, you'll wake from this trance as slowly or as quickly as you'd like. if you want to take a few minutes to bask in this pleasant relaxation, that's perfectly okay, and if you'd rather come all the way up as soon as you're finished, that's fine too. whenever you choose to wake up, you'll do so feeling refreshed, and ready to take on the rest of your day with a smile.

now go ahead and follow my instructions. i know you want to give in.

i hope you enjoyed this, and that you have a lovely rest of your day :)

corporate retreat part 1 / 4

I went into a fugue state and wrote nine thousand words about an overworked corporate drone being brainwashed for their own good.

tw: brainwashing, conditioning, dehumanization, drugging, humiliation, hypnosis, restraints,  corporate culture, weight insecurity mentioned, a little kinky

"Welcome to the Brainwashing Department! You must be today's test subject. We're happy to have you!"

Quinn stared in disbelief at the receptionist's guileless and strangely familiar smile. "You're awfully cheerful about this, aren't you?"

"Well, I love my job," he said without the slightest trace of malevolence. "As I'm sure you know, the Brainwashing Department is critically important to the organization. Without us, we wouldn't have sleeper agents, puppet politicians, memory erasure... and it's interesting work, too. No two subjects are the same." He glanced at Quinn's badge and then at their face. "Say, I recognize you. You're from IT, aren't you? You're the one who always unlocks my laptop when I forget my password!"

Oh, shit, that's where they remembered this guy. Quinn wasn't sure what they found more mortifying: the fact that they'd been recognized, or the idea of letting a guy who obviously didn't know how to work a laptop be in charge of human minds. Maybe he'd been a test subject, and it affected his brain... although considering what Quinn had signed up for, that wasn't at all comforting.

"Yeah, I'm from IT," said Quinn. "Can we get started? I'd prefer to get this over with."

The receptionist laughed. "You seem like you could use a vacation. Good thing you're here. No better vacation than a vacation from your thoughts, right?" He pushed a button on his phone. "Dr. Moon, your test subject has arrived."

Quinn played with their phone and tried not to look like an anxious wreck as they waited for the doctor. This was such an awful idea, but they didn't have much of a choice. 

---

"You used to be my favorite minion. I hate to see your potential go down the drain, and I'd really, really hate to have to put you on a performance improvement plan," their boss had said. "You know, just because we're in the business of underground supervillainy doesn't mean we don't value our employees' mental health. You should take a vacation, recharge yourself."

"I'm out of PTO," said Quinn.

Their boss leaned over her desk with a frightening look in her eye. "Have you happened to see the fliers the Brainwashing Department has been posting?"

Oh, they didn't like where this was headed. "The ones looking for compliant test subjects? The ones promising a $5000 bonus and a month of PTO?"

"Exactly! Doesn't that solve your problem?"

"The month of PTO is just the month you spend as their brainwashed test subject."

"Details," she said with a handwave. "You get PTO and a chance to relax --"

"-- by being drugged and hypnotized out of my skull --"

"--and you'll come back refreshed and ready to work."

"Presumably because you'll get them to brainwash me to be a better employee."

"See, everyone wins!" she said. "I highly recommend that you volunteer."

And that was that. Quinn certainly didn't have the clout to argue, especially when they were at risk of being at the bottom of the stack ranking. You didn't want to get stack ranked in this organization. It usually involved poison in your cafeteria rations.

---

"Quinn? You're a volunteer for brainwashing testing, right?"

Quinn looked up to see a middle-aged woman wearing the aquamarine jumpsuit of the higher-status employees, along with a lab coat and a pair of enormous round glasses. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail and she had a strangely warm smile given her profession. 

"I'm Quinn, and yeah."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Dr. Moon," she said, holding out her hand for a shake, and her hands felt warm as well. "Thank you for volunteering. It's critically important that we have adequate testing subjects for refining our process, before we have to use the techniques on important targets. So many employees are frightened of our department, even though our work is really quite pleasant. You don't have anything to worry about, though. I promise that your mind is good hands here."

"Good to know," they said. "Hopefully I can give you some good data." It really wasn't the competency of the Brainwashing Department that worried them -- they'd seen their results firsthand. If anything, they were perhaps a little too competent.

"I'm sure your data will be invaluable. Now, if you could follow me..." She turned and swiped her keycard at the double doors next to the reception desk, ushering Quinn inside.

They stood in a short, sterile, and blindingly white hallway with several doors on each side and another large set of double glass doors at the end. "Those doors lead to the primary brainwashing floor," Dr. Moon said, gesturing to the end of the hallway. "But first, I'm going to have you go into one of our prep rooms." 

She slid her keycard on one of the side doors, which opened up to a small room with some lockers, a shower, and a bench. "Put your uniform and any personal effects -- except your glasses and anything medically necessary -- in the locker. Then, take a shower using the provided soap and dress in the clothes you find in the locker. Make sure you clip your identification tag to the gown, so we don't lose you."

"Wouldn't want that to happen."

"When you're done, just press the button and I'll be back to guide you to the next phase," she said. "Take your time. We're in no hurry."

Quinn shut the door behind them. They stripped off their sneakers, a pair of socks adorned with little green alien heads, and the gray jumpsuit that marked their middling status in the organization. The hot water felt great as they stepped into the shower, and the soap was pleasantly scented with lavender. It would've been relaxing if the shower hadn't given them a chance to be alone with their own thoughts.

Were they really going through with this? They could've told their boss no, but that would've just ended badly. The terms of the test subject agreement guaranteed that the process would be reversed at the end, but it wasn't like they trusted that. They knew what the Brainwashing Department was capable of. They could wipe any memories they didn't want them to have, they could implant suggestions of being more loyal and eager to work, they could humiliate them in so many ways, they could simply leave them brainwashed permanently... 

Quinn sighed. This was absolutely going to suck, but there was no use worrying. It wasn't like they were going to turn back now.

The provided outfit was a soft blue cotton hospital gown and padded socks. They were quite comfortable, but made Quinn feel entirely too exposed and vulnerable without their familiar jumpsuit. The badge they clipped to the gown had their name, picture, subject number, and a series of codes designating the brainwashing procedures they were going to undergo. Quinn didn't know enough about the department's work to know what the codes meant.

They pressed the button.

A few minutes later, Dr. Moon entered the room. "I hope you had a nice shower. Let's get you into the other room to do a few necessary checks."

The next room was a bit like a doctor's office. "I'll need you to stand on that scale, please," said Quinn.

"Is that really necessary?" They fucking hated this part of the doctor's visit.

"It's not for judgement or shaming, really! We just need accurate weight to make sure the medication dosage is correct. It's for your own safety. You don't even need to look."

Somehow, even the idea of being weighed for brainwashing drugs was preferable to being shamed again. They didn't look as they stood on the scale, and Dr. Moon made no comment.

"Now, if you'll sit on the table for a minute, please," she said. "Let me just check your breathing... your eyes and ears..."

Quinn sat as still as they could as Dr. Moon pressed a stethoscope to their chest and shined a light in their eyes, but they couldn't keep their knee from bouncing.

"Any vision or hearing problems, other than your need for glasses?"

"No."

"Any disabilities we should be aware of? Here in the Brainwashing Department, we pride ourselves on our commitment to diversity. We'll adjust our procedures to accommodate any disability, mental or physical, to ensure that everyone can safely and easily fall under our control."

"Uh. Not that I know of." Quinn most certainly was not going to spill their mental health difficulties to this woman. She'd probably have access to all of Quinn's secrets soon enough... ugh, they'd rather not think about that.

"All right, then. If you're ready, I can lead you to the brainwashing floor and we can get started on your procedure."

"I'm not sure I can be any more ready than I am right now, so..."

"I know it must seem nerve-wracking, but trust me, once we get started you won't be worried at all."

"That doesn't especially ease my worries."

They followed Dr. Moon through the double doors and into the main brainwashing floor. Here, thirty of the organization's brainwashing devices were arranged in neat rows, big plush reclining chairs with restraints and screens and medical tools. They were all currently occupied by people of all ages and types undergoing procedures. Most of the people were half-asleep and watching hypnotic screens, mouthing words under their breath, hooked up to gas tanks and IV lines containing the drug cocktails that made them docile and malleable. Some were being induced, surrounded by staff monitoring their vitals as they went under. Others had a staff member drilling commands into their minds. One woman at the back was thrashing and fighting as the department staff wrangled her into restraints and into a mask.

Quinn had long been desensitized to the brainwashing floor. After all, when you worked for an organization like this one, morals flew out the window with your first paycheck. The work they did was necessary to keep the organization going, and honestly less messy and more humane than some of the other departments. Quinn had had to come here plenty of times to help troubleshoot problems with the machines, and had swiftly learned to tune out the droning hypnotic inductions and sounds of quiet struggle.

But it certainly hit differently now that Quinn knew they were destined for one of the devices. They couldn't help but imagine themselves in a chair, watching a hypnotic screen with a dazed smile and glassy eyes. The idea made their skin crawl with the fear they'd been shoving aside until now. They hated the idea of not being in control, and especially the idea of other people seeing them helpless and vulnerable. But that fate was now inevitable. They weren't kidding themselves about their ability to resist. Dr. Moon would probably turn them into a drooling, tranced-out mess by lunchtime.

At least they'd get some good sleep for a change. Chemically-induced sleep with a side of mind warping, sure, but sleep nonetheless.

Conversion/ The Box

In one hour, I will be put in The Box.

It has a much more complex and scientific name, of course. But those of us in the system for preparation for it simply call it that. 'The Box', like a device of torture that must not be named.

I've been on the list for some time now. Conscripted, analyzed, prepared, preplanned. While I'd expected something, I doubt I could ever be prepared enough.

We would comfort each other as much as possible. Talk over our worries, assure each other. It was tough to contact the ones post-op, but the ones who did helped explain the procedure.

We wouldn't be aware for most of it anyway. Surgery tended to work better when the patient was unconscious. We'd be put inside, The augments and cybernetics would be applied and attached, our minds would be scanned and be acclimatized to the systems. afterwards we would be in treatment for another 5 weeks as we adjusted to the systems connecting to our synapses and nerves.

Some of us worried of ego death. The ones we could talk to spoke about it like rebirth. Not that they were very vocal. Their handlers tended to translate for them where able, or willing.

And The Box would be where it happened. Keeping our vitals stable while keeping us unconscious, unaware, and deprived of all sensation.

I was scared for a while. Of course I'd be, when described like that. But after some time with those who came out after, the Mech Pilots, the Dolls, the Drones, I'm excited. I think I understand what they mean, if only somewhat.

That's likely part of why I was chosen for this in the first place. Freedom from burden, from worry of choice and blame. Freedom from my slowly breaking body. A chance to find happiness and fulfillment where I couldn't anywhere else. I'd be a weapon, a tool, and that was enough for me. whoever takes the role of my handler will manage the day to day, and if I don't like it (if I even can still dislike it), I could always do what I've heard the first few did. I will be a carefully honed weapon. A tool for greatness.

I will be in The Box soon. and while I'm nervous, I cannot wait for my rebirth.

Weird thing happened to me the other day

Pics for a shot for @regressionschoolpersonals !