cadence-the-hypnotic-floret

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This is absolute fire, highly recommend.

I got a new mic and decided to do a reading of one of my own oneshots which is essentially a hypno script. It is of an affini comforting thier floret, who has had a bad day, giving her a bath, and then cuddling her to sleep.

full text is here: Bad Day Made Better

includes a wakener.

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I joke on occasion that I would be florted so easlily because I'd fail a wellness check and wardship, but there is a serious undertone to that humor as well. Since getting into hdg, I've really realized that I live in a society not built for me and my nerudivergance. It's made me a lot more aware of the parts where I'm not really supported and in makes me sad and angry and a bit hopeless and a bunch of other complex emotions. Like I genuinely grieve the fact that I'll never live in a society that actively supports and looks out for me. That fact is pretty devastating to me, but the thing I can do is take little steps to make my life better. I'll set up systems for myself, and eventually, I'll get to a point where I can manage to do everything I need to

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my medical records say I was given forcefem hypnotherapy when I transferred here but that must be an error because I've always been a girl?

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ykno just bc her ball joints arent supposed 2 bend that way doesnt mean u cant or shouldnt bend em that way anyways. its ur toy that u bought w ur own money after all. shes ur property, who cares if the sound of snapping plastic is sickly like bone. its not like she can scream.

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Notice to the Domestication Bureau,

Please do not perform a wellness check at [this independent's address] over the next 72 hours. My refusal to go outside during this period is an intentional choice on my part and does reflect a decline in personal caregiving ability. I have taken multiple steps to prepare for this event, including but not limited to the following:

- Set my Hab's compiler to produce preplanned meals at regular intervals

- Increased ventilation for atmospheric and temperature regulation

- Set alarms to keep my showers and sleeping periods scheduled correctly

- opened all the skylights to get sunshine and necessary vitamins

- Picked up my Class Gs ahead of time

I have taken these steps to ensure that my isolation period does not negatively impact my mental or physical health. I have done this to reassure my therapist and vet that even when performing this action, I have not forgotten to or am incapable of taking care of myself.

I just got this new video game and really really really wanna binge it.

Well that looks like a good set of actions taken. I do not see any need to be concerned about you. I would say though that there is a gaming cafe just a short way from your hab which is hosting a launch party, that could be fun to go to.

You might even meet a cute Gamer-Affini

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A biomodded floret in her pet bed, snuggled up with her various xenosophont plushies~

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Bryony Vertfield from Floretpups

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I've had experience with some major content creators who were not kosher. This is part of why I do three important things in each of my files:

I distance the actual events of the file from the person through framing.

I Include a cooldown with instruction to perform self-care

I post the full script of every file I upload, to ensure that you can know what it is you're putting in your head before it goes there.

Now, while the first two are stylistic choices I can imagine doing differently or doing without, I think that third point is pretty important. You should be able to know what's in the file before you listen to it. And frankly, nobody should want to surprise people with kink elements they were not wanting or expecting.

What is the most dangerous hypno thing you can do?

Is a question someone asked on Reddit. My answer is a bit of a hot take, but I think it's important to share

I think online files are the most dangerous way to do hypnosis. It's very hard to tell how dangerous a file is going to be before you try it, and you're doing it alone, the creator of the file is unavailable to provide aftercare or help you get back on your feet. On the contrary, many content creators make more money if you buy more of their files, so they encourage a dependency or addiction to their files in their fans. It's very easy to (through peer pressure or because you're a newbie) stumble upon bad stuff and get drawn in without knowing how to keep yourself safe or free yourself from it. The shame of getting yourself caught in this mess because of sexual desire often makes it very hard to seek help.

Yes, I'd say the most dangerous thing in hypnokink is online files.

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Most annoying thing to remember is that you're litterally just a homosapien. You're just a very smart animal. If you feel like shit, imagine you're an exotic pet for some alien species and do what they'd do to keep you healthy. You gotta be well cared for. Animal abuse is a crime for a reason

"My pet human, Greg, hasn't left his bed in a long time. He's just scrolling his phone all day" Greg needs enrichment. Add enrichment in his enclosure and take him on walks

"Greg has been super lethargic and sad recently for seemingly no reason" Greg need vitamins, take him outside for some vitamin D and fresh air. Perhaps a picnic

"Greg won't sleep even though he's been super lethargic" Greg needs a schedule, especially for the lights in his enclosure.

"Greg has been super distant recently and keeps crying to sad music" Humans are pack animals, he needs to hug another human and hang out. Perhaps pack bond with a rock together

"Greg has been flailing around and panicking, his breathing is way faster than it should be" Greg is overwhelmed. Take Greg out of the situation and give him time to calm down. Perhaps somewhere cozy with tea and a movie

"Greg won't do what he needs to do" Train him. Humans do great with positive reinforcement, give him little treats when he's doing good

"Greg he's been super anxious and tired, he can't seem to enjoy his days" Humans needs to move around. Give Greg something to exercise with. Things like stretching, weight lifting, walking, or even dancing will help

"Even though I've taken really good care of Greg, he still has been having issues" Greg is ill, take him to the doctor. You might need a specialist (therapist, optometrist, oncologist, etc)

I know it feels patronizing, and I know it feels embarrassing or that you're "just giving into the clichés", but you are literally just a creature. You need to sleep/eat on time, you need enrichment, and you need to take care of your social needs. Humans are complicated animals, but they are also beautiful and all deserve proper care. This obviously isn't a perfect analogy, nothing is, but if you saw your friend taking care of their pet the way you take care of yourself, would you be concerned?

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you bring your mommy GF home for the holidays, and it's a little awkward. neither of you really like that you have to call her your girlfriend while there, but your parents wouldn't understand. If they'd understood you maybe you wouldn't...

...

It's not worth rehashing right now. You go home because you always do. Your relationship with your parents is a bit tense, but it's acceptable. and this is what people do, right? go home? you do it because you're supposed to. because they'd be upset if you didn't. because going is easier then dealing with the fallout...

maybe.

they're pleasant, but interrogative. They can't stop asking questions. details, personal things of your partner that they have no right to know. you try and interfere, but you don't know how to tell them no. you never have. But she's strong. her strength, her will, is part of why you love her. she withstands their barrage with more dignity then you would've. she doesn't seem bothered. they're not the first.

That first night wears on, the alcohol getting everyone through the uneasy tension that seems to linger just out of sight. you feel small. its one thing to deal with them on your own, it's another to be witnessed. it's another to see your little home world through your partners eyes. none of it is quite what you remember anymore.

as the night winds down, the first slip finally happens. it's not you or her, but them. one of them makes a comment, something so casual and offhand that by the time the last word has left their lips they've forgotten the rest. but it lodges in your heart. it slowly creeps through you brain and traps you in a tiny cage. a pattern, a cycle present all your life, a fear you know you can't show because they couldn't understand. because they put it there. you change. you shut down. you keep talking, but there's nothing left in your voice.

they don't see it. they do, but they don't know. it's normal. it's you. it's what they know of you. it's how you react when words are said, and in their eyes it means nothing anymore. She sees it though. suddenly the person she came here with is gone and this weird, timid, joyless shell is babbling on next to her. Her hand on your back roots you again, and you fall quiet as the others talk. She winds the conversation to a close, prompts a goodnight from the room, and gently guides you back to your room.

it's changed. it's not yours anymore. if it ever was. it never really felt like your space, they were always in and out, it was really just the room where you slept. anything that was yours was hidden, tucked in the backs of drawers or shoved under your mattress. privacy was earned through subterfuge. Now that you're gone, that you've been away for years, it's just another space. an office, a den, some quiet space. it's completely different. it's exactly the same. it's just as much yours as it ever was.

she helps you undress and lays you down on the fold-out couch where your bed used to be. you can still hear them outside. the walls were always thin. you learned to cry silently. you still do. you're doing it now. she pulls the blankets over you both and holds onto you tight as you cling to her. you forgot. you forgot that this is what is was like. you knew it was bad, but the nostalgia of childhood is still powerful. you forgot how much it hurt to go home.

her hand glides gently through your hair. it traces little circles on your back and drifts back and forth across your shoulders. the lights are off, the sun is set, the world is dark. it smells like her. you cling to her as your mind begins to float through that abyss. she leans in to you. her breath is hot against your cheek. her voice soft in your ear. her whisper a bare mote above silence.

"I would've raised you better."

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'Ira' transporting her fussy floret

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It is hard to moan and run at the same time.

That is the key lesson that I hope to impart upon you today little one.

Yes, I know, you’re such a big strong soldier with a scary scowl who’s never once thought about sitting still and letting Miss dress you in something beautiful.

Yes, I know, you had lofty goals and elaborate plans with a rebellion that you were so desperate to see through. There is an obvious word in your language to describe this moment.

Anger.

“This is wrong!” You cry out, “I don’t want to be a pet. I want freedom. This is wrong.”

It makes my injectors start to dribble just hearing you. Because I know a fundamental truth about an adorable thing like you.

It is hard to moan and run at the same time.

My tendril moves across the space so effortlessly it makes you wonder if I deliberately let you go. I take great joy in selecting a spot where the skin looks softest and neediest to plunge into. It’s a feeling you’ll come to crave soon. The lazy drag of the thorn, the perfect choice, the heat of it under your flesh, the way it makes everything you touch feel so incredible. The dusting of pollen on the pinprick.

Perhaps I did let you go, because every moment that you spend hoisted off the ground and wrapped in my vines as I take you back to the bed seems to erode your fight more.

Angry tears and writhing limbs fighting against indescribable pleasure in a war of cognitive dissonance.

The fact that I have made you love the way I feel only makes you hate me more. For now. You are in the early stages.

Denial.

This is a particularly cute place for you to find yourself. I adore denial. Gasping, shouting through a vibrating tone. You continue with your old shtick for as long as possible as I effortlessly grip your wrists and ankles. I press your body into the soft material of the most comfortable bed you have ever felt.

I coo, and administer light petting to you, the animal in front of me. It comforts you on a primal level. Still you shout about your escape plans, how you want to kill me, what a monster I am.

Bargaining.

You finally admit that I’ve done something to you, but you refuse to identify the exact sensation you are experiencing.

You know what it is. I know what it is. Yet, we pretend. I believe Terrans refer to this as flirting. I ask you what’s wrong petal, and you spit in my face. You say that I know exactly what I’ve done, and yet you still refuse to use the exact word as I start to pull at the seams of your standard issue jumpsuit. Little pulls at thread that match the way I’m tugging at your resilience. With every opening I slide another vine deeper, running across your arms, your thighs. You whimper as I finally shatter the illusion you have constructed.

Docility.

You realize now the inescapable reality of your bliss, but you are not ready to appreciate it yet. All at once your limbs go slack as the fight leaves you. The cortisol drains and drops out, quickly replaced by the endorphins and euphoriants I have ensured are reaching optimal levels. It is my preference to work through this stage as efficiently as possible.

The pet inside you is winning. She needs encouragement to properly take root. I finish removing your clothes and maximize the surface area available for my molestation. Ropes of my body bind you tighter, hold you closer.

Vines that live the closest to my core with fibrous textures tease at your skin. Oh, how you’ll crave them in time as their rougher material becomes associated in your mind at a neurochemical level with the addling and addictive comfort of my most intimate cuddles.

I run a grafted feeler across your scalp in a massage that makes you drool and gasp. Your dilated eyes roll back into your skull as I hum a warm and loving song into your grey matter.

Smaller tendrils run between your toes, across your neck, into the folds of your ears and eyes and nose. They brush your lips and they part so easily, but I do not enter. This is still the beginning of our courtship and I wish the explore the moist cavity of your throat at a later time when it can be fully appreciated.

You leak from every place a pet can leak.

I produce a flower bud and rock it lazily back and forth in front of your bleary eyes.

You watch as the soft petals of the bulb retract, revealing the dripping thorn within.

You break into a million little pieces as the pet within you wins the battle.

My sweet little thing begs for more.

How can I possibly resist.

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what a cute little mask you've put on. it fits so well. how you lie there, pretending to be some sentinel that can take anything i throw at you.

and then the cracks start to form. and my fingers hook in between your armour. and my voice rings inside your head like a church bell. and you begin to whimper. and the giggles bubble up. and then-

you're mine.

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Paraphrased from a convo between me and a friend

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dear lord, please take all life problems and responsibilities away from fanfic writers but also make them financially stable and happy with nothing to worry about so they can happily focus on writing and posting fanfiction. amen

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hmmm... thinking about someone forcibly taking care of you. bathing you by hand, brushing your hair for you, dressing you and grooming you, brushing your teeth for you, hand feeding you etc etc. not just as a form of affection but also to assert control over your every breathing moment...