addicted-to-trance

[addicted-to-trance]

call my dick a floor the way it's hard wood with a carpet on top

[addicted-to-trance]

? you want me to kill myslef??

[addicted-to-trance]

I need someone to walk up to me randomly and go "hey you're cute! But I think its time i shut your brain off~" as they have me focus on their finger as I get all fuzzy and dazed before they tap my forehead and I'm out like a light, ready to be groped, fondled, toyed with and used 💕

[addicted-to-trance]

I think you should stop all that worrying nonsense, honestly. It's so much easier if you let a hypnotist think for you. Someone who will care about you as much as they will be capable of melting your mind into a gooey puddle of submission.

Someone like me. Wouldn't you want that, little flower? Maybe we should talk about it.

Don't you agree?

[addicted-to-trance]

Melody's Finally Ready to Stay Over

"Hi honey, welcome home!" Ashley exclaimed cheerfully, giving her husband Hank a sprightly wave as he walked through the front door and doffed his coat. "Melody's going to be staying for dinner tonight, hope you don't mind, and--oh! She wanted to show you something!" This was news to Melody, whose brow was already beginning to furrow in confusion as she looked over at her old friend; they hadn't been talking about showing Hank anything, and she honestly didn't even remember discussing dinner plans. But her momentary bewilderment was nothing compared to the astonishment she felt when Ashley tangled her fingers into Melody's strawberry blonde curls and pushed her head forward onto a dildo suction-cupped to the coffee table that Melody hadn't noticed until only that moment.

She swallowed the whole thing, too, guzzling the massive silicone cock down her throat with a skill and an ease she'd never managed with her ex-husband's comparatively small penis. It was as though the instant she felt the ridged shaft push past her lips something just… relaxed, and it became easier and easier to hold the fake dick inside her with every passing second. She didn't start really thinking about what had just happened until Ashley pulled her head back up off the dildo and said, "See, honey? I told you she was really coming along! I think tonight's the night she's finally ready to lock it all in and spend the whole evening here." The words didn't make a lot of sense to Melody, but then again nothing seemed to really be sinking in with Ashley gripping her hair like a mother cat holding its kitten.

She made a mumbled, spluttering grunt of confusion, but it was barely recognizable as speech and it was soon muffled by thick cock anyway as Ashley pushed her head back down onto the dildo and popped her mind like a soap bubble. "It went really well today, she didn't even notice taking off her clothes for me," and Melody suddenly realized she was completely topless and showing off her heavy tits to her oldest friend's husband--but only for a few fractions of a second, before the warm haze of euphoria obliterated that recognition and left her blissed-out and gulping. Good girls didn't think with their mouths full, she knew, even if that knowledge drifted sourceless and unquestioned in the back of her brain.

Ashley pulled her up and off again, and this time Melody couldn't help smiling a dopey grin and licking her lips at the expression of undiluted lust on Hank's face. "I know, honey, you've been waiting such a long time for this," Ashley cooed, "but dinner's almost ready and you know how worn out you get if you try to fuck on an empty stomach. Don't worry, I promise she's going to be just as horny after pasta primavera--she hasn't had a good fuck since the divorce, and she doesn't know it but that's going to make her so wet by the time you finally get it in. Just remember, you have to finish in her mouth, okay?" Hank nodded enthusiastically, and Melody found herself nodding along with him even though the memory of what she was agreeing to had already evaporated from her mind. It just felt nice to go along with everything Ashley said.

Melody recovered a tiny few of her wits over pasta, salad, and some homemade breadsticks, but she still couldn't remember half of what she said more than a few seconds after it left her lips--it was all horny, nonsensical babble, random fantasies of what she was going to do to pleasure her new lovers that barely made a lick of sense. She was infinitely grateful when the meal ended and she didn't have to occupy her mouth anymore… or at least, not with talking. Ashley and Hank made sure she had better things to use it for, that night and every night thereafter.

(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)

[addicted-to-trance]

Imagine you bragging about being an amazing cock sucker, and me pulling my dick out and watching you succumb to yourself. Seeing your mouth start watering and getting on your knees until your cheek is basically rubbing against my tip, while I jerk off. You looking up at me with those big sweet puppy eyes while I rub it against your lips, trying to mark my territory. You’ll say, “please put it in my mouth, I need it.” And then I’ll feed it to you and watch your eyes roll back while I fuck into your mouth.

[addicted-to-trance]

Okay but idea...

Two switches having a tist off but each time either one or both of them drop even a little, they forget how hypnosis works. It's not all at once, but a very gradual decline of forgetting little pieces until they are helpless to fight back.

Thoughts?

[addicted-to-trance]

Oh don't worry, baby, I'll keep you nice and safe

Your clothes? Silly thing, you weren't wearing them!

Your mouth? You put that in there, baby, don't you remember?

Your thoughts? No silly, I'm supposed to think

You just

Sink and

Obey

Don't worry, baby, I'll keep you nice and safe

So you just use that mouth

Sink

And obey

[addicted-to-trance]

“Brains are for boys”

No. No, sweetie, they aren’t. Brains are for people. And that’s why you should give yours up, because you’re not a person. You’re a sub. Submissive, sub-human. Got it? Give up your brain to a person, whether it’s a man, a woman, or someone in between. Give it up to a person, because you don’t deserve it, since you’re not one. Good sub.

[addicted-to-trance]

Trying to get my guts rearranged by a dork with zero rizz

[addicted-to-trance]

A brainwashed sub reading a story about an “embarrassingly susceptible” protagonist that gets brainwashed. The story is about her, and she’s getting groped by her hypnotist while reading it. There’s enough personal details that she finally realizes that the woman that was transformed into an utterly obedient hypnoslut is her as she’s cumming to her own brainwashing.

[addicted-to-trance]

I bet I can turn you into a fleshlight :3

[addicted-to-trance]

If you were a person you wouldn’t be soaking wet at the thought of being used. You wouldn’t be staring blankly at your screen, touching yourself, meaning and panting if you were a person. You’d have the ability to stop, to choose to ignore those desires if you were a person.

But you aren’t a person. You’re a plaything waiting to be used.

[addicted-to-trance]

your pussy is so wet. is that what you do with your thoughts? leak them out of your holes? that's so cute. you should totally keep doing it. leak all those silly thoughts out of your pretty pussy. rub your worthless brain out of your cunt. it was useless anyway. this is better for you.

[addicted-to-trance]

You know, getting hypnotized into becoming a completely subservient plaything sounds like a lot of fun, but I have no idea what I want to be hypnotized to become. Do I want to become a loyal maid, cheerfully cleaning my mistresses house and cock? Do I want to become a latex drone, clad in full body latex and stripped of all individuality? Do I want to be a pet, crawling on all fours and unable to speak anything other than barks or meows? Do I want to be a dress-up doll, existing only to look pretty and nothing else? Do I want to be a bimbo, caring only about pretty clothes, sex and the color pink? Do I want to be a fembot, robotically following my programming with no feelings of my own? Do I want to be a sex slave in the simplest sense of the word, being literally nothing else but a piece of fuckmeat with some holes to play with? There are so many options, and having to pick one goes a bit against the whole “having my ability to choose stripped away” thing

[addicted-to-trance]

There’s that little twinge again...

You’ve tried to fight it, but it just returns even stronger. You know that tiny itch in the back of your mind…. That pulls your attention between your legs. It needs your attention, Again. Just don’t think about it. Don’t touch yourself. Again. Don’t think about rubbing and feeling that tingle in just the way that you know makes you sink deeper now.

Be a good girl

[addicted-to-trance]

Fractionation is the breaking down of your little brain into smaller parts! Fractionation is taking you into a state, and taking you back out, and putting you back in... conditioning you into falling into that state even easier! Don't you want it to be easier?❤️