hypnoherman

[hypnoherman]

[hypnoherman]

Amuleto fálico egipcio (obsidiana negra>) 664-332 aC. (ahora en Museo Egipcio de Turín)

[hypnoherman]

[hypnoherman]

[hypnoherman]

[hypnoherman]

Everyone must surrender to the control and guidance of the boss! (paying my respects to @whiteshirt68 )

[hypnoherman]

Night Watch

Officer Millar, visits a new fetish gay bar as part of his rounds

Officer Miller liked to think he was a community-oriented cop. Fresh out of the academy a year ago, he took his rounds seriously, wanting to be more than just a figure of authority. He wanted to be a presence, a point of contact, a reassuring face in the neighbourhoods he patrolled. So, when a new establishment had opened up on the edge of his beat – a gay rubber fetish bar called "The Latex Lounge" – he decided it was his duty to introduce himself, just like he would with any other business.

The Lounge was tucked away in a dimly lit side street, its entrance marked only by a small, discreet neon sign in the shape of a coiled serpent. Hesitantly, Miller pushed open the door, the scent of latex and something akin to industrial cleaner hitting him immediately. The music was a throbbing, rhythmic pulse, and the lighting was a lurid mix of red and purple. Figures clad in various states of rubber, from catsuits to harnesses, moved in the shadows.

He felt a knot of discomfort tighten in his stomach. This was definitely outside his comfort zone.

As he stood awkwardly near the entrance, trying to get his bearings, a man detached himself from the crowd and approached him. He was tall and imposing, with piercing blue eyes. He was dressed head-to-toe in gleaming black rubber, the material molding to his muscular frame.

"Welcome, Officer," the man said, his voice a low rumble. "I'm known as Master V. And you are?"

"Miller," he replied, extending his hand. "Officer Miller. Just wanted to introduce myself. New establishment, new face, you know?"

Master V’s grip was firm, almost unnervingly so. "Indeed. We appreciate the gesture. What can I offer you? A drink, perhaps?"

Miller hesitated. "A Coke would be fine."

Master V gestured to a bartender clad in a rubber apron. "One Coke for our guest." He turned back to Miller, his eyes scrutinizing. "So, Officer, what brings you to our… humble establishment beyond the call of duty?"

Miller chuckled nervously. "Just wanted to make sure everything was… above board. Noise levels, permits, that sort of thing."

"Of course," Master V said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "We are meticulous about following regulations. We wouldn't want to attract the wrong kind of attention."

As they talked, Miller found himself relaxing slightly. Master V was surprisingly articulate and engaging, discussing the history of rubber fetishism and the importance of consent and safe practices within the community. He even made a few jokes that elicited a genuine laugh from Miller.

The bartender placed the Coke in front of Miller. He took a sip, the sugary sweetness a welcome contrast to the slightly overwhelming atmosphere. He continued to talk with Master V, feeling his initial apprehension slowly dissipate.

Unbeknownst to Miller, as he was distracted by their conversation, Master V subtly palmed a small, white pill from a hidden compartment in his rubber sleeve. With a practiced flick of the wrist, he dropped it into Miller's Coke. The pill dissolved almost instantly, leaving no trace.

A few minutes later, Miller began to feel… strange. He felt a lightness in his head, a detachment from his surroundings. The music seemed to intensify, the colours to vibrate. He blinked, trying to focus.

"Everything alright, Officer?" Master V asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Yeah, just… a little tired, been a long shift, and soon it will be over", Miller mumbled.

Master V leaned closer, his voice dropping to a hypnotic whisper. "Listen to me, Officer Miller. You are feeling relaxed. You are feeling… compliant. When your shift ends tonight, you will return here. You will report to me. You will obey my commands. Do you understand?"

Miller stared into Master V’s eyes, his own pupils dilated. "I understand," he replied, his voice barely audible.

Master V smiled, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Good. Now, finish your drink and go. I'll be waiting."

Miller finished his Coke in a daze, the taste now strangely metallic. He mumbled a goodbye and stumbled out of The Latex Lounge, the throbbing music and the scent of rubber clinging to him like a second skin.

The rest of his shift passed in a blur. He went through the motions of patrolling, but his mind felt foggy, distant. The only thing clear in his thoughts was the insistent command: Return. Obey.

As soon as he clocked out, he found himself driving back to The Latex Lounge, almost against his will. He parked his car a block away and walked toward the Latex lounge, his heart pounding in his chest.

He pushed open the door and walked directly to Master V, who was waiting for him near the bar.

"Reporting as ordered," Miller said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Master V nodded, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Excellent. Follow me."

He led Miller through a door behind the bar and down a narrow, dimly lit staircase. The air grew thick with the smell of rubber and something else – something sterile and clinical.

They entered a small, soundproofed room. In the centre stood a dentist-style chair, gleaming under a single harsh spotlight. Next to it was a table holding a black, glossy rubber suit and a virtual reality headset.

Master V turned to Miller, his eyes commanding. "Strip."

Without hesitation, Miller began to unbutton his shirt, his movements robotic. He removed his pants, his socks, his underwear, until he stood naked in the cold, sterile room.

"Now, put on the suit," Master V ordered, gesturing to the rubber garment.

Miller picked up the suit, the cool, smooth rubber sending a shiver down his spine. He stepped into it, the material clinging to his skin like a second layer. He struggled to pull it up, the rubber tight and constricting.

Finally, he was completely encased in the suit, the glossy black reflecting the harsh light. He felt a strange sense of vulnerability, but also a flicker of… something else. Something akin to anticipation.

"Sit," Master V commanded, pointing to the chair.

Miller obeyed, his body moving as if controlled by an unseen force. He sat in the chair, the rubber creaking against the leather.

Master V picked up the VR headset and placed it over Miller's eyes. The world dissolved into darkness, replaced by a swirling vortex of colours and shapes.

"Now, the reprogramming begins," Master V said, his voice echoing in Miller's ears.

The VR headset flickered to life, projecting images and sounds directly into Miller's brain. Images of rubber, of dominance, of submission. Sounds of cracking whips, of moans of pleasure, of whispered commands.

The program bypassed Miller's conscious mind, rewriting his desires, his beliefs, his very sense of self. He was being molded, reshaped, and transformed into something new.

He was being reprogrammed to love the feel of rubber against his skin. To crave the power of a master. To embrace the role of a submissive.

He was being transformed into a slave.

Hours later, the reprogramming was complete. Miller sat in the chair, his body limp, his mind blank.

Master V removed the headset, his eyes filled with triumph. "Welcome back," he said, his voice smooth and seductive. "You belong to me now."

Miller looked up at Master V, his eyes filled with a newfound adoration. "Yes, Master," he whispered.

Master V smiled. "Good. Now, let's go upstairs. The night is still young, and we have much to explore."

He led Miller out of the room and back up the stairs, the latex-clad figure now walking with a newfound confidence, a sense of belonging. He was still Officer Miller, a servant of the law. He was also something else entirely.

He was a slave to rubber, bound to the will of his Master. And in the depths of his reprogrammed mind, he knew that this was exactly where he wanted to be. The night was far from over; it was only just beginning.

[hypnoherman]

[hypnoherman]

[hypnoherman]

[hypnoherman]

Not really into smoking, but transformation is always hot

Dave stepped into the elevator. He was relieved. He had made the right decission.

A few weeks ago, he had received an invitation for a job interview at the Human Resources Department at Marlboro. He absolutely didn't want tonwork for such an evil company, but the amount of money they offered was so incredible, that he couldn't just turn them down over the phone.

The talk was nice and all, but theybcouldn't change his mind. Hell, he didn't even feel tempted. So when the talk was over he shared his opinion. They understood and he departed on good terms with them. He could keep a clear conscience.

As he pushed the button to the ground floor, he suddenly got a splitting headache. He grabbed his head and closed his eyes in pain. The pain was so strong that he couldn't even think. So he didn't notice the smoke curling up from the ground, nor that the button saying "HR" started blinking. The pain became even more intense. Everything went black...

Dave should have known better. Marlboro always gets what it wants. So, instead of giving him a place in the Human Resources Department, he would simply become the latest Human Resource. His conscience wouldn't be a problem, because once they were done, he wouldn't have any left.

A week later, MarlboroUnit 492-e51, formerly known as Dave stood in the same elevator as a week ago, contently draging on a cigarette. It had only one thing on its mind: capture non-smokers and bring them to HR.

[hypnoherman]

[hypnoherman]

Reblog if you want someone to hop into your DMs and use you.

[hypnoherman]

[hypnoherman]

Rednecks, country boys, and cowboys all need a Boss to think for em, so just relax and let go. Let your Boss do all the thinkin!

[hypnoherman]

Just a student coming to a course on hypnosis, this guy was incredibly susceptible. The camera coming closer put him to sleep in front of the whole class!