#Induction of parameter

[lola-writes]

Diagnosing Desire

Pairing: Tom Bennett x nurse!reader

Word Count: 5,6k

Themes & Warnings: pov first person, use of Y/N, swearing, fluff, drinking, smoking, eventual smut

Synopsis: Working as a wartime nurse, you’ve been charged with seeing to the physical exams of new recruits. It’s not until Tom Bennett shows up that you realize just how physical the exam can get.

A/N: Not surprised so many people wanted more Tom Bennett. Some inspo taken from Pearl Harbor. Not everything is medically accurate for the sake of the plot. Found this picture (bottom right) of a soldier getting an exam during ww2 that looked just like Ewan from behind!

Song: Angel Of Small Death & The Codeine Scene - Hozier

Masterlist | Add yourself to my taglist | Ao3

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Enjoy the read!

“Efficiency is key,” my uncle declared, rustling through the recruitment papers with a grim determination etching his features. “We need to be swift yet thorough.”

“How about I take the main parameters from the start,” I offered. “Leaving you more time to fill out paperwork. Then, I hand them over to you and fill out their files as you examine?”

A thoughtful crease furrowed his brow. “That might just work,” he said, tapping his finger against his lips in contemplation.

The car rattled upon the cobblestones as we lurched onto Manchester’s main street, shuddering us into silence. Every window, lamp post and building were decorated in posters and placards of soldiers with brandished rifles, blaring red pronouncements reading ‘RECRUIT NOW’, ‘EVERY FIT MAN WANTED’, and ‘RALLY ROUND THE FLAG’. 

Neville Chamberlain’s haunting voice echoed in my head, a remnant of his crackling announcement on the Home Service. 

This country is at war with Germany.

A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. 

I despised war, the very notion of violence solving anything. Yet, here I was, about to be thrust into the heart of its machinery.

But if war was inevitable, I would steel my resolve, seeing to put my expertise to good use. 

Fresh out of basic nursing training at King Edward VII Hospital in Sheffield, I’d been dispatched with my uncle and a contingent of colleagues to Manchester. As an NHS nurse, we were tasked with overseeing and assisting in the physical examinations of the city’s new recruits. My uncle, Dr. Benjamin Clark, a seasoned veteran with ten years under his belt, would lead the examinations, while I served as his right hand.

The car turned a corner, then another, before coming to a grinding halt at the curb. I nudged my uncle, yet engrossed in paperwork. Once he glanced up, a gusty sigh escaped his lips. 

“Plan B then,” he muttered, his voice laced with resignation.

The queue leading into the induction center stretched for what seemed like miles. Tracing its path with a sinking heart, a chilling realization dawned on me and settled in my stomach. 

There was endless work ahead of us.

The induction center hummed with activity and crackled with a nervous energy as we entered. Sunlight streamed through high ceilings, illuminating rows of tall, numbered privacy screens. Each makeshift booth held a white-clad nurse and a trepidatious recruit clutching a folder. 

The Manchester center pulsed with a daily influx of hopeful faces, each ushered through a chaotic dance of physical exams, fingerprints, fitness tests, and dreaded vaccinations. My days blurred into a whirlwind of vision checks, height and weight measurements, and the familiar sting as I administered countless injections.

Most of the men I examined were models of civility, enduring the process with a stoic resolve, a wince of pain at the stick of the needle their only betrayal. Yet a few shattered the façade, their bravado crumbling into crass jokes and unwanted advances. Thankfully though, my uncle was a fortress of composure, and would swiftly shut them down, but each encounter left me with a residue of unease and a tear in my patience.

I wasn’t unused to being flirted with. Now, however, it felt like a relentless barrage, a desperate grasping for normalcy in the face of oblivion. By the end of each day, I felt like I’d fielded more marriage proposals than a fairytale princess. I could hardly blame them, though. These men were teetering on the precipice of war. Desperation hung heavy in the air, clinging to these men about to face the unknown. They would depart with no guarantee of whether they’d ever return. 

While I couldn’t offer them a forever, I could offer a gentle smile and as kind of a rejection as I could muster. A disarming act for some, but for others, it wasn’t enough, their misplaced advances requiring security to escort them out.

“Go on, love, give us a chance,” this one man wheedled at my desk after completing his examinations.

I skimmed his file splayed open before me, everything appearing to be in order. ‘Keith Worsley’, it read. 

What a cruel joke, I thought, as I stamped his papers for approval, plastering on my most saccharine smile. He practically vaulted the desk, arms outstretched like he was about to give it a big hug. 

A firmer approach perhaps, a harsher deflection, would expedite his departure. The insistent line of restless faces behind him fueled my resolve.

“You’ve passed,” I announced, my voice clipped, as I shoved his folder shut, thrusting it towards him. “And there’s a queue.”

He ignored the dismissal, looming closer, his breath a noxious cocktail that I could almost taste on my tongue, threatening to crack my carefully constructed façade.

“You gonna deny a soldier his one shot at happiness?” he pressed, his voice thick with misplaced entitlement. 

I sighed internally, a silent scream trapped in my chest.

Efficiency is key, echoed my uncle’s voice in my head. What a struggle that turned out to align to.

“I might die fighting the Nazis,” he continued. 

I started to think it funny just how common that sentence turned out to be. And how these men begging for my hand, publicly liked to expose just how self-absorbed they really were. Pathos disguised as romance.

“Let’s live life to the fullest tonight, baby,” he drawled, desperation clinging to his words like a bad cologne. The urge to laugh was a battle I nearly lost, but the bile rising in my throat solidified my resolve, and I leaned in closer, a sugary smile plastered across my features.

“I’m afraid I’d rather be fighting the Nazis,” I quipped. 

He clamped onto my arm, a jolt shooting through me.

Perhaps not the best candidate for my newfound ‘ice queen’ persona, I thought. 

“Think you’re clever, hm?” he snarled. 

Before I could respond, or seek refuge beneath my uncle’s wing, a voice sliced through the tension.

“Get yer coat, mucker, it’s not gonna ‘appen,” it drawled, its tone snarky, dripping with playful menace, and with an undertone of complete and utter disregard for law and custom. 

Keith rose from the desk, my hand still hostage in his grip. We saw him simultaneously. 

A tall, wiry figure, all straw-blonde hair and icy blue eyes stood behind him in the queue, a scowl twisting his features as he sized Keith up and down, eyes rimmed with lethal venom.

“The fuck you say?” growled Keith, his grip tightening on my arm.

“Y’ heard me.” The blonde dipped his chin. “Now, let go of the lady’s hand. She’s done nothing but take care of ya.”

Kieth obliged before lumbering towards the blonde, towering over him, fixing him with an unwavering glare. But the thick tension ran thin when the blonde suddenly erupted in laughter, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Something funny?” Keith snarled, nostrils flaring.

“Keith? That’s yer name?” the blonde derided, amusement lacing his voice as he nodded at Keith’s dog tag.

A beat of stunned silence followed.

“What about it?” asked Keith hesitantly.

“Well, Keith was always the name of that kid who wore a balaclava till’ April, candle wax snot angin’ from his nose.” The blonde grinned widely. 

My jaw clenched to stifle a snort of laughter. What a cheeky fucker, was all I could think, before Keith’s fist met his face with a resounding blow. The blonde was on the floor before anyone could stop it. 

Security materialized in seconds, hauling both men out the door in a flurry of limbs and shouted obscenities.

I rubbed a hand over my forehead, the day’s stress settling into my bones. I sighed deeply, before waving forward the next recruit. 

_

The next day was no different. Another deluge of recruits. Hundreds lined up to get their vision checked at my desk, their anxious energy buzzing through the air.

Another folder slapped onto my desk as I was finishing up with the one before. The pen slipped around in my clammy hand, still getting used to the rhythm of work. 

I opened the new folder with a practiced flick, my eyes scanning the documents. To service the Royal Navy, HMS Exeter (68). 

“Tom Bennett,” I read aloud, already filling out the form.

“Yes, ma’am,” a voice replied promptly, a hint of salt-laced amusement clinging to the words.

“Read row eight for me, please,” I instructed, pointing at the Snellen’s chart over my shoulder, my focus remaining on the papers.

“D-E-F-P-O-T-E-C,” he declared, rather fast, considering the small size of the letters.

“Steady on, sailor,” I chuckled, glancing up. 

My breath hitched in my throat. 

The tall, straw blonde mischief with the quick wit, a deep purple blooming around his left socket.

“Goodness,” I gasped, my mind scrambling for a more eloquent response.

He flashed his infuriatingly charming grin, pointing at the damage with his thumb. “Y’ should see t’other bloke,” he winked, coaxing a giggle from my lips. 

He towered over the desk, his hands folded in front of him, assuming a casual, almost nonchalant posture that somehow commanded attention. His sharp, protruding chin and aquiline nose dominated his features. 

But it was his lips that truly captivated me. They were set in a sort of perpetual pout, settling him into a curious air of sensuality that contradicted the hint of arrogance in his demeanor.

Suddenly, my mouth felt dry. Words seemed to evaporate as I looked up at him, a nervous flutter awakening in my chest, and a pulse settling in my core.

“Thank you,” I managed, a wave of unexpected gratitude washing over me at the thought of this stranger taking a punch for my dignity. “For yesterday, I mean.”

He dipped his head a fraction. “Come on,” he lulled, wetting his lips. “Who wouldn’t lend a hand to a lady in distress?”

A hesitant smile touched my lips, sweeping a glance around the room before meeting his gaze again. “A lot of people,” I countered.

He scrunched his nose and curled his lips. “Bunch of wankers, the lot of them.”

I offered him an amused smile as his eyes settled on my face, a playful smirk slowly tugging at the corner of his mouth as our gazes lingered a beat too long. The intensity sent a blush creeping up my neck. Flustered, I ducked my head to his file, though the words swam before me, my eyes failing to comprehend regular English.

“No worries like,” he said, pointing at his papers. “I’m mint in my file, healthy as a horse.”

“Right,” I replied, checking off the twenty-twenty vision, hearing, and speech. “Procedure demands a full exam, though,” I said, rising from my chair.

“Ey?” He cocked his eyebrows, his eyes following me towards the privacy screen. “Y’ gonna examine me?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

“Please, step behind here,” I said, gesturing behind the screen.

His eyes sparked with satisfaction as he rounded the desk towards me, his gaze fixed on me with a mischievous glint, his hand brushing me in passing as he slipped around me behind the screen, sending a warm current through my body. I followed suit, my mind suddenly a blur, as I attempted to regain my composure, busying myself with sterilizing equipment, discarding used needles, and filling new syringes with vaccines, all the while feeling his gaze on me.

“Alright, so… how’s this whole exam thing gonna work then?” he asked, restless fingers exploring my equipment. 

I gently swatted his hand away, a wry smile playing on his lips. 

“We’ll start off with a quick height and weight measurement,” I explained. Tom nodded and started towards the scale. “Then, you’ll need to undress and I’ll…”

“Whoah…” he countered, stopping in his tracks. “Undress?” he repeated, his voice darkening beneath something amused.

“Well, yes,” I confirmed, raising an eyebrow. “Were you never briefed beforehand, Mr. Bennett?”

Tom curled his lips.

“Did they not tell you what to expect?” I clarified.

“Never stuck ‘round for that long. Just thought it’d be a quick look in me gob and I’d be sorted,” he drawled, a sly grin spreading across his face. “But if y’ want me to get me gear off, just say the word,” he rumbled, looking me up and down.

The audacity of his suggestion both flustered me and strangely titillated me. I fought back a laugh from the utter impertinence of his man, channeling my frustration into professional courtesy.

“I appreciate the enthusiasm, Mr. Bennett,” I said, forcing a politeness into my voice, though betrayed by a hint of mirth despite my best efforts. 

“For you,” he said, curling his lips. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

I cleared my throat to steady my beating heart, and began to explain the procedure to him, in the most professional way possible. But as I did, his face grew more and more smug.

“Christ,” he muttered, elation sparking in his eyes. “Least let a bloke buy ya a drink first.”

 “The doctor will be conducting most of the physical examination,” I informed him, a faint smile tugging at my lips.

“That’s a shame,” he droned.

I studied him with disbelief, to which a cheeky smirk curled his lips. 

“Yer hands all over me. Mind ya, I wouldn’t complain.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” I said, rolling my eyes as I pulled the latex on my hands.

“Wouldn’t be needing those either,” he said, nodding at my gloves. “Wouldn’t want ya choking your lovely hands on my account.”

“Let’s keep it professional, Mr. Bennett,” I countered, a playful edge to my voice as I slipped on the second glove.

He sniffled. “Mmhm,” he hummed, his lips pursing defiantly. 

“Right,” I said, clicking my pen to the ready. “Let’s get started.”

“Fire away, love,” he drawled, his amusement an inescapable distraction.

I took a deep breath, willing my butterflies to settle.

“Would you mind emptying your pockets and stepping onto the scale for me?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, and began rummaging through his pant pockets, pulling out a metal lighter, a packet of fags, some pounds, and his ID. He placed them in the bowl I held out and hopped onto the scale. I noted down his weight and height. 

“Excellent. Now, please remove your shirt.”

A satisfied glint lit up his eyes. He clicked his teeth and crossed his arms over his stomach. “Quite like bein’ ordered about,” he said, before pulling the shirt over his head.

“I suppose you have to get used to it,” I replied, my eyes flickering over his toned chest, his dog tag nestling between his pectoral muscles. Turning away to grab the measuring tape, I silently berated myself for the warmth blooming up my neck. 

“Wouldn’t be ‘alf as good from anyone else, though,” his voice, a low rumble, sent shivers down my spine. 

When I pivoted back, his height loomed over me, his hands clasped behind his back in a soldierly posture that accentuated his broad shoulders and chest, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes.

“Would you mind…?” My voice trailed off as I hesitated to make physical contact. Unlike the others I’d processed with practiced efficiency, the thought of touching him set my nerves on fire. “Standing like this for me?” I finally managed, my voice a gentle whisper, my hands reaching out to gently unclasp his from behind his back, raising them straight outward. “Perfect.” 

I drew closer. The scent of him, a mix of clean sweat, tobacco, and bad decisions, filled my senses as I reached around him to fit the measuring tape around his shoulder blades. As I straightened to fix it around his chest, I caught him observing me. The playful glint had softened, replaced by a simmering intensity that sent a warm tremor through me. I half expected him to lay an inappropriate or snarky comment, but a beat of charged silence hung in the air, save his breathing which had gotten slightly labored.

I quickly recorded the measurement and released the tape. “Perfect,” I said, a touch too brightly, charging my voice to attempt to salvage my composure. “You may lower your arms.” Scribbling the numbers in his file, I forced myself to focus on the next task. “I will have a look at your teeth next,” I said, picking up the light source and a wooden spatula.

“Alright,” he said. He dipped his chin for me to reach, his lips pouting with arrogant sensuality, as I approached him. 

His presence consumed me. His scent, the warmth of his body, mere inches from my own, radiated through me like electricity. I hesitated again.

“I don’t bite,” he grinned, to which I rolled my eyes, and placed my hand to his chin in defiance. His timber lowered into a throaty whisper, “Only if ye ask me nicely.”

My breathing shallowed, heat shot through me like licking flames, my heart drumming against my ribs. “Good to know,” I said, attempting to sound unbothered, tilting his head toward me. “Say ‘Ah’.”

“Ahhhhh…”

I depressed his tongue with the spatula and examined his teeth, making a mental note of the slight misalignment of his incisors. “Bite down,” I instructed. Another minor misalignment appeared. “Hmm,” I murmured, and released him, noting it down in his file. 

“Problem?” he asked.

“Did you have braces as a child?” I inquired, setting down the equipment.

He scoffed. “Fuck nah. That gear’s for mugs only.”

His foul mouth was disarming

“I see,” I said, before I turned and started towards him. His eyes had become hooded, the ice melted into a dark sea, holding a challenge I couldn’t quite decipher. His lips inched up into an askew smile that pitted his cheek as I reached for his face again. I felt a prickle of awareness as his gaze flickered down my body, before returning to my face.

I palpated along his jaw, starting below his ears, then down towards his throat. He sighed deeply. His skin was so very warm beneath my fingers.

“Been experiencing any fever or illness of late?” I asked, my fingers continuing the path down his neck. His gaze flicked to my lips.

“No,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble.

He was extremely warm. Borderline feverish. 

“Currently on any medications?” My fingers continued down his broad neck, down to his collarbones. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, and his ‘no’ came out hoarse and shaky. 

I systematically checked the rest of his body for abnormalities, checking for any bruises, hernias, anything deviating. His breath hitched as my fingers grazed his arm, then the other. Then I took a turn about him, checking his neck, shoulders and back. My eyes travelled lower, and something fluttered through my stomach. 

He had a very cute butt. 

He tilted his head to the side when I came around him, a devilish grin on his lips. 

“What d’ya reckon, doc? See somethin’ y’ like?”

“Everything seems to be in order,” I announced, going to stand in front of him, ignoring his blatantly rude comment. “Just like you claimed, healthy as a horse.”

A satisfied grin tugged at his lips, “Told ya.”

“Now for the really tricky part,” I continued, watching Tom’s smug grin slowly fade from his face as my uncle emerged from behind the privacy curtain.

“How are we doing in here then, Y/N?”

“All done, Dr. Clark. He’s all yours,” I confirmed, a hint of amusement dancing in my eyes. Tom’s confusion was a welcome change to his previous arrogance.

Dr. Clark cleared his throat and flipped through the file. “Mr. Bennett,” he addressed and looked up. “For the lower body examination, please remove your trousers,” he said, smacking his gloves into place.

Tom looked to me, a silent plea I readily understood, and I flashed him with a sweet smile.

“Good luck, Mr. Bennett,” I sang, tearing the gloves from my hands.

He turned to my uncle, then hesitated. “Could I…” Then he cleared his throat, his voice lowering to a whisper, though loud enough that I could hear before I vanished behind the screen. “Could I have a moment?”

_

The next day, a familiar name landed on my desk at the vaccination booth.

As I looked up, intense blue eyes met mine.

“Mr. Bennett,” I greeted him professionally, though something stirred within my chest.

“Y/N,” he said with a charming grin which made my heart trip over its next beat.

Fuck. He must’ve heard my name from my uncle yesterday. 

“And please,” he continued. “Call me Tom.”

“Alright, Mr. Bennett. Right this way,” I said, rising from my chair. 

He hesitated at first, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he obliged and rounded the desk, following me behind the screen.

“Pull down your trousers and lean over,” I instructed before he could manage to land some witty remark.

“Actually, I-,” he started.

“Chop chop, sailor,” I interrupted, ushering him to the table. “We haven’t got all day.”

“Right uh… Like this?” he asked, his back turned to me, his cheeks exposed before me.

I looked him over. “That’s right…” I said absently, my eyes travelling.

Focus.

As I readied the vaccine, a beat of awkward silence stretched between us before Tom spoke again, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. 

“So, listen uh…” he began, clearing his throat, an unfamiliar vulnerability lacing his voice that unsettled me. My gaze drifted to the way his jaw clenched, a flicker of some apprehensive in his eyes. Was he scared of needles or something? “I know a lot of these other blokes been causing ye trouble and that, and uh…”

Gosh, he was so fucking cute when he was nervous. 

“I was wonderin’ like…” He rubbed his chin in his hand. “Would you want to like…” His fingers tapping out a nervous rhythm on the table, attempting to urge his words forward. “Maybe…” His voice trailed off, searching for the right turn of phrase.

Oh god, he was about to ask me out. 

My heart hammered against my ribs.

I loaded the syringe in a nervous blur, and tapped out the bubbles at the top.

“Like… wanna go out with me – argh!” His whole body cramped up as I stabbed the needle into his butt cheek. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I poke too deep?” I asked with feigned concern.

A throaty groan escaped his lips. “Clattered me bones, I think,” he wheezed, his head bent over the table, swaying slightly as he held onto it for support.

“Go on, sailor. You can take it,” I said gently, patting his back as he pulled his trousers back up, groaning as he went. 

I thought he must’ve forgotten what he was about to say, because he started staggering out of the booth, one hand rubbing his arse.

“Nah, hang on,” he said, turning on his heel, his jaw ticking with determination. “Listen, I really wanna take ya.”

My cheeks flared red. “Excuse me?”

Alarm sparked in his eyes, as if just realizing what he’d said. “Out!” He corrected. “I’d really wanna take y’ out. That weren’t meant to come out like that.”

Suddenly he started acting very strange. It started with staggering. He steadied himself on the IV pole at his side, the metal rattling under his weight.

“Mr. Bennett?” I asked, approaching him slowly, “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head to his senses, “Just gon’ a bit… wobbly, is all.”

Something dawned on me. I snatched his file from the table and opened it. ‘Andrew Howarth’ was hidden beneath a sticker of Tom’s alias.

I slammed it back down on the table, my voice sharpening. “Have you already had this shot?” I demanded, turning back to him, venom lacing my voice.

“Well,” he mumbled, his eyes fluttering. “Just t’ once.” Then his head hit the floor.

_

Exhaustion gnawed as I exited the doors to the induction centre, the hours of work settling heavy on my cognition. The golden glow of lampposts cast long, spidery shadows across the slick cobblestones as I descended the stairs. The memory of Tom swam up before me, his handsome face against the cold floor, concern flooding me after his fainting spell. I recalled him muttering incoherently in my lap as a crowd gathered, my uncle eventually pushing through to help.

A warmth, unexpected and foreign, bloomed in my chest. He’d taken a punch to the face during our very first encounter, then nearly experienced an anaphylactic shock trying to ask me out on a date. Underneath that snarky, arrogant mask, I believed, was something so much deeper. 

My heels clicked against the stone as I approached the car. I opened the door and slid inside, just starting to pull it shut when a voice echoed from outside. 

“Y/N!”

A jolt of adrenaline shot through me as I saw a figure jogging up the street towards me, hands shoved in their jacket pockets. 

A thrill sparked in my chest as they drew closer. I flung the car door open again and stepped out. 

“Hello, Mr. Bennett,” I uttered, attempting to hide the shakiness in my voice as he approached. “How are you feeling?”

“Made up,” he said, flashing a lopsided grin, and I noted that the purple around his eye had deepened somewhat. “You?”

A laugh, tinged with delirious exhaustion, escaped my lips. I shrugged. “Pretty knackered, actually.”

Tom’s grin diluted slightly, as a concerned frown etched his features. “Course y’ are! Made up you’re knackered after all that!” There was a soft concern in his voice that spun in my ears like silk. I smiled at him as a comfortable silence settled between us. But when I turned my heel slightly on the cobble, he spoke up. 

“Listen, uh…” he began, putting honey in his voice. “Before all of that with the fainting,” he said, drawing closer. “I wanted to ask ye out.”

I smiled, nodding. “I know,” I admitted softly. “It was pretty obvious.”

A cheeky grin lit up his features, and he tilted his head. “So…” He pursed his lips. “What d’ya say, doc?” His voice lowered into a gentle caress, and I felt his fingers brush against mine ever so lightly. “I need someone lookin’ after me while I recover,” he winked.

I couldn’t keep from smiling, my gaze drifting down to the cobblestones, as I considered his request.

“I’ll be a good boy, I promise,” he said, grinning, coaxing a laugh from me. 

Exhaustion threatened to pull me under, but a different kind of weight settled in my stomach as I met his gaze. He was off to war, soon to be on a ship across the Atlantic, with no notion of when he’d be back. If he’d ever be back… 

Dread coiled in my stomach. 

If he was going to die, we should at least live tonight. 

I winced internally at the cheesy quote from that Keith bloke. But it was the only thing that seemed to fit the urgency in my heart. 

“Alright,” I heard myself say.

“Yeah?” Tom’s voice dripped with elation, a melody that tugged at my already strained emotions. “C’mon then,” he said, offering me his arm. “Everyone reckons a cold brew sorts ye right out after a dizzy dossin’.”

_

A honeyed glow emanated from The Old Wellington, pulling us like moths to a flame. Inside, a vibrant symphony of voices rose and fell, punctuated by the melodic clinking of glasses. The air thrummed with the mingled aromas of spilled ale, aged leather, and an undercurrent of cigarette smoke. Tom, a whirlwind of charismatic energy, navigated the throng, his smile as familiar as the worn grooves on a favorite record, his banter bouncing off patrons like playful echoes. Their easy camaraderie spoke of a shared history, a hidden world I longed to decipher. Here, in the heart of Manchester, I was an explorer in a land of unknown faces and customs, adrift but not entirely lost. But when he grabbed my hand and pulled us towards the bar, none of it mattered. 

“A pint and a gin martini, if y’ would, Kristina,” he tossed over his shoulder to the bartender.

The cheek of this man. Did he just assume what I’d be drinking?

“A gin martini? Really?” I arched an eyebrow, a playful challenge in my voice. 

He pivoted towards me, a smug pout plastered on his lips, one hand casually tucked in his pant pocket as he leaned against the worn wood.

“Thought y’ might need a touch of sophistication, ya know, a taste of the high life,” he drawled, his eyes twinkling with something akin to a dare. 

And I was up for the challenge. 

I snorted and mirrored his stance, my arms crossing atop the bar in a playful imitation. “Do elaborate,” I replied, my voice laced with amusement.

A genuine grin erupted across his face. “Well, gin martinis are for proper ladies like, the kind with a bit of mystery and that,” he said, his voice dropping a touch lower. “Like yourself,” he finished, wetting his lips as his eyes flicked briefly down my body.

A shiver danced down my spine and vibrated in my stomach.

“So, a woman of intrigue is defined by her choice of beverage?” I countered, cocking my eyebrows in defiance, a playful glint in my eyes.

He shook his head ever so lightly, a flicker of something deeper gracing his features, like I’d totally missed his point. “Nothin’ could ever define ya, love. Y’ more than a drink,” he said, his voice growing suddenly serious. 

A warmth bloomed in my chest. This cocky charmer held an unexpected sweetness beneath the surface, a complexity that piqued my curiosity even further. 

Kristina placed our drinks on the bar and Tom slid a bill across to her. “Cheers, Kristina.”

I nodded at his pint. “So, you’re a lager then,” I joked. 

He tilted his head, a dimple flashing in his cheek. “A simple brew for a simple bloke,” he said, placing the rim to his lips and taking a swig. 

I laughed and shook my head. “You’re anything but simple, Tom.”

 “Seems my theory holds some water, then,” he grinned, mischief glittering in his eyes.

He pulled his packet of fags from his pocket and lit one with a practiced flick, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked in. Smoke curled from his lips in a grey cloud, momentarily obscuring him in a hazy veil. In that moment, a strange desire flickered within me – to be the tobacco stick consumed by his flame. 

“Fancy one?” he offered.

“Why not?” I said, watching him already pull a second one out of the pack, putting it to my lips, the subtle graze of his fingers against me singeing my skin like hot coal. 

“So, what d’ya think of the war then?” he said, flicking the lighter shut. 

I exhaled, tapped the ash, and pursed my lips. “That there must be a better way to solve conflict.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. He pointed at me with the cigarette wedged between his fingers. “You and me dad would get along,” he stated.

Intrigued, I leaned in. “How so?”

He took a blow of his cigarette before he answered. “He’s a conscientious objector,” he said, breathing a plume of smoke.

“You clearly don’t share his sentiment,” I said, stirring my drink with the olive stick.

Tom curled his lips, a furrow etching between his brows, his finger flicking ashes into the ashtray. “Let’s just say it was either this or a stint in Her Majesty’s finest accommodation.” He rubbed his nose, a cocky sniff escaping him, as if the topic was bothersome. “Not exactly dad’s proudest moment.” His voice lowered somewhat, his fingers tapping atop the bar.

My eyes skimmed his fidgeting hands in contemplation. He’d enlisted for redemption, though I wasn’t exactly surprised he was a troublemaker, lacing him with even more intrigue than I had expected. 

The liquor flowed freely as he unraveled his story – his pacifist father, the ache of losing his mother young, his spirited sister who appeared to have stepped into their mother’s shoes. With each revelation, an invisible thread tightened between us, drawing our bodies closer, a silent conversation blooming beneath our skin.

By the time I finished my second martini, a reckless glint danced in my eyes, my fingers feeling daring and loose. They brushed down his arm while he was talking. My gaze flickered to his lips, a silent invitation. Tom, immersed in some topic I’d failed to keep up with, trailed his hand up my side absently, his fingers grazing my hips, up to my waist, his body radiating into me, my mind consumed by his scent as I attempted to focus on his words. 

A husky chuckle grazed my ear. “A bit bevvied, are we?” he whispered into it, his voice laced with amusement.

“Not any more than you,” I countered. 

“Pfft,” he said, frowning theatrically and pursing his lips. “I’m off the wagon.”

His hand drifted down my back, a single finger tracing a tempting path to my tailbone, the motion sending sparks downward. Desire flared within me, a wildfire consuming my inhibitions, fueled by the euphoric buzz of the alcohol. I leaned into him until I could feel his breath mixed with liquor and tobacco upon my lips. My fingers came up to his chest, my lips savoring his every breath like it was life itself. I just needed him to make a move. Close the gap between us. Draw his tongue into my mouth so that I could taste it. But he was still, ragged breaths fanning me, his muscles drawn taut beneath my fingers. 

“Fancy a change of scenery?” I whispered against his mouth. 

“Bet,” he mumbled, his voice thick, before creating distance between us, the electricity cut, sparking like static. His hand in mine, he steered me out of the pub, the night air a stark contrast to the heat that had been building inside me...

Tag list: @venmondiese @diespulcher @izfrogzy @fan-goddess @yyrzmomo @slytherincursebreaker @canpillowscry @mhmhey @meadowscollectivelight @jasminecosmic99 @funnyzgirl @rhaethoughts @rosaness @beautifulballads @ramielll @maplesauce43 @elmageber @gxuxhdjdu @randomstory56 @darylandbethfanforever9 @allthethingsel @kkdragongirl @saintlavie @haleyheart0197 @kind3sstuff @mooneeishorny @hikaerys @swagfancroissantpizza2 @thescooponsof @venmondiese @lovelybruises @sonolynn @pandoras-bussy @babymilkxd @diespulcher @aiyaiy @lovebambon @stapleyourfacebackon @banditlovespunks @gvmmie-bear @airadajascake @anyaisssleeping @liv-cole @hc-geralt-23 @elleinex0x0 @dovesandorchids @gothmuppet92o @meganryannnn @forreadsstuff @baddieduhh2 @sushiapril @mel0man1a @onemillionpeopleinone @hermoonfan @bitchwithlebrains @xxxkat3xxx @ultravxl @zesldl-blog @reeseelise @strangemaximoff @imaginecrushes @anyaskywalker21 @littybeech @achaoticeternal @im-perched-in-the-dark @stcrrjoon @wxnderingthoughts @starkwlord @rhxenyra-txrgxryen @rafanadalgeek888 @summerposie @hederahelix-mj @aegonswife @wwwrafecom @shadowolf993 @kalasyrtiaan @starwarsgirlsimmer1 @maybeijustwanttobeme @violetiss3lfish @ecstaticactus @magicalkidchaos-blog1 @fan-goddess @solairestar @shelby-leah @forbiddengrimoire @magnificentdelusionr @issshhh @luvsfics @rhaenyslay @beautifulmilkshakearbiter @thelastofkryze @slytherincursebreaker @thought--bubble @doll-joh4n @zackyvravageme @youngunicorn16 @jexify @odeioemail @canpillowscry @sinistersnakey49 @osferthswifey

Divider by: @saradika

A part 2 is planned soon!

[quentinsofio]

[ELIZABETH — SESSION REPORT #009]

SUBJECT ID: P-07

DATE: [REDACTED]

LEAD OBSERVER: [REDACTED]

LOCATION: [REDACTED]

OBJECTIVE

To evaluate the impact of multi-spectrum Frequency Enhancement (FE) on the subject's remote visualization and psychic levitation capabilities while in a controlled prone state.

EXPERIMENT SETUP

Subject Position: Prone, face forward, left arm extended in line with spine.

Environment: Outdoor, natural light exposure.

Object Placement: 16 everyday items placed behind the subject (1.5–2m range), randomized arrangement.

FREQUENCY ENHANCEMENT (FE) PARAMETERS

Duration: 1 hour

Frequencies Administered:

963 Hz

432 Hz

528 Hz

4–8 Hz

7.83 Hz

Method: Layered binaural audio + low-frequency induction

PHASE I — REMOTE VISUALIZATION

Instructions: Subject to visualize and verbally identify objects behind them without physical contact or line of sight.

Objects Used (randomized):

Fork

Vase

Electronic guitar tuner

Dictionary

Plate

Rope

Frozen peas

Shoe box

Leather belt

Notepad

Laptop

Sweatshirt

Handgun

Pillowcase

Headphones

Backpack

Result:

Identification Accuracy: 100%

Details Noted: Material, color, shape, and orientation of each object correctly described.

PHASE II — PSYCHIC LEVITATION ATTEMPT

Instructions: Focused intent directed at each object. Duration: 3 minutes per trial.

Movement Observed (5 of 16):

Fork:

Full levitation

Vertical lift ~12 cm

Hover duration: 4.2 seconds

Rope:

Partial movement, light coiling

Vertical shift: <2 cm

Leather Belt:

Rotation along vertical axis

Minor slide motion

Handgun:

Rotation on horizontal axis

Audible metallic vibration noted

Pillowcase:

Sudden lift at one corner

Hover duration: 1.1 seconds

Remaining 11 Objects: No visible movement. Subject reported encountering “static distortion.”

POST-SESSION NOTES

Subject reported:

Mild fatigue

Visual distortion (temporary)

Persistent auditory hum (~528 Hz) for ~17 minutes post-experiment

No physiological anomalies detected.

Subject requested re-entry into session within 48 hours.

END OF REPORT

@f0rcee

[sufrimientilia]

Research Log #P5-00436

FACILITY: [REDACTED] DATE: [REDACTED] CASE: #E2756895 ATTENDING: [REDACTED] UNIT: WARD 92 OBJECTIVE: Behavioral Compliance Induction

TIME: [09:45:00]

SUBJECT #1138-B7 was brought to the operating theater, prepped and draped in the usual fashion. Intravenous access was established using a 20-gauge catheter inserted into the left antecubital vein. Electrodes were placed on the scalp for continuous EEG monitoring. Additional sensors were attached to record heart rate, respiratory rate, and galvanic skin response (GSR).

Subject presents as a 25 year old male, physically healthy, baseline vitals recorded WNL. Subject exhibited signs of anxiety and resistance, which were managed by the use of sedatives (2 mg Midazolam IV).

[09:53:11]: Subject questioned to establish baseline cognitive and physiological parameters. Orientation, recall, and basic comprehension intact.

[10:00:00]: Infusion of proprietary psychotropic agent PCA-35 initiated at a rate of 5 mL/min.

[10:03:48]: Subject displays signs of restlessness. Cortical activation indicated by increased uptake on EEG. Subject gives responses to verbal stimuli and reports a sensation of lightheadedness.

[10:04:25]: Subject complains of stinging sensation and bittersweet taste. Noted slight tremor in extremities and increased heart rate. GSR indicates heightened anxiety.

[10:05:13]: Subject questioned to establish cognitive and physiological parameters. Noted delayed responses. Subject struggles to follow simple instructions, becomes distracted, provides incoherent explanations of surroundings, misinterprets questions.

[10:09:32]: Subject begins to exhibit signs of altered perception, including auditory hallucinations and delirium. EEG shows increased theta wave activity. Physical agitation observed; restraints effective in maintaining Subject's position. Subject too agitated for cognitive and physiological testing.

[10:14:45]: Administration of compound #GS-P5R initiated at 12 L/min via inhalation mask to reduce anxiety and stabilize neural response. Infusion of PCA-35 increased to 7.5 mL/min.

[10:19:48]: Subject's responses to verbal and physical stimuli decrease significantly. Continued monitoring shows stable vitals but increased physical rigidity. Administered 1 mg Lorazepam IV to reduce muscle tension.

[10:24:22]: Subject’s speech becomes slurred and incoherent. Noted disorientation to stimuli, increased muscle laxity. Decrease in heart rate and blood pressure.

[10:33:14]: Subject enters a semi-catatonic state. Eyes remain open but unresponsive to visual stimuli. Pupils equal but dilated. EEG shows dominant delta wave activity.

[10:42:28]: Subject displays signs of decreased neural responsiveness. Decreased pupillary reaction, continued slow rolling movement of the eyes, jerky movement of the whole body (hypnic jerks). Persistent drooling noted.

[10:45:04]: Infusion of PCA-13 reduced to 1 mL/min. Administration of compound #GS-P5R reduced to 2 L/min via nasal cannula.

[10:50:34]: Subject engaged with repetitive commands in accordance to Behavioral Compliance Protocols. Verbal cues, electronic conditioning, and multi-sensory stimuli reinforcement prove ineffective. Subject remains largely non-reactive.

[10:57:55]: Subject’s eyes remain unfocused with significant drooping. Attempts to direct gaze result in brief eye opening, followed by rapid drooping. Subject mumbles incoherently.

[10:58:06]: Speculum applied to maintain eyelid retraction for continuous observation and responsiveness testing. Subject demonstrates minimal resistance; remains in stuporous state. Droplets of propriety psychotic #3A administered to each eye. Immediate increase in pupil dilation and noticeable twitching observed.

[11:00:17]: Visual stimulus presented. Subject's eyes remain fixed and extremely dilated. Noted tremors in hands, erratic breathing patterns, increase in heart rate. Subject occasionally mumbles with extreme delay in response latency to verbal and physical testing.

[11:05:23]: Subject engaged with repetitive commands in accordance to Behavioral Compliance Protocols. Verbal cues, electronic conditioning, and multi-sensory stimuli reinforcement prove insignificant. Subject displays significant cognitive impairment, involuntary reflexes, significant drooling, and uncoordinated movements.

[11:10:19]: Increased auditory and visual stimuli introduced to enhance command comprehension of Behavioral Compliance Protocols. Subject displays signs of severe neural suppression. EEG findings variable and nonspecific, low voltage and slow irregular activity nonreactive to sensory stimuli.

[11:15:52]: Subject engaged with high-intensity visual stimuli (rapid flashing) and continuous auditory commands. Subject shows brief eye fixation on visual stimulus, with occasional facial twitching. Overall response is characterized by slow, inconsistent movements and frequent confusion. Subject’s attempts to respond are sporadic, sluggish, and incoherent.

[11:20:14]: Administered low-frequency auditory tones and ambient lighting. Subject displays intermittent eye tracking and reflexive vocalizations. Eyes lubricated to prevent irritation; speculum remains in place. Despite the high level of impairment, occasional partial compliance with commands noted.

[11:30:31]: Subject provided with 500 mL saline IV to maintain hydration. Subject engaged with repetitive commands in accordance to Compliance Protocols. Verbal cues, electronic conditioning, and multi-sensory stimuli reinforcement prove moderately effective as demonstrated by increased uptake seen on EEG. Noted severe motor function impairment, persistent drooling, disorientation.

[11:37:48]: Visual and auditory stimuli calibrated to induce deep trance state in preparation for Hypnotic Compliance Protocols. Subject's head and neck stabilized to ensure alignment with visual stimuli. Monitored vital signs remain stable but indicate persistent sedation effects. Subject remains largely unresponsive, exhibiting only involuntary reflexes and intense eye fixation on visual stimulus.

[12:00:00]: End of Behavioral Compliance Induction log. Subject's transition to hypnotic phase officially logged and observed.

TRANSFER OF CARE: [REDACTED]

[polo-drone-039]

Mystery in Cabot Cove: “The Golden Case”

It began with a silence

Jessica Fletcher knew Cabot Cove better than her own heartbeat—its rhythms, its gossip, its mild crimes that somehow always unraveled into murder. But lately… there was nothing. And that, in a town like this, was deeply suspicious.

Dr. Seth Hazlitt hadn’t shown up for Sunday clams. Sheriff Amos hadn’t responded to four voicemails. Even Winnie the librarian hadn’t come in to discuss the latest Agatha Christie reprint.

Jessica had a sinking feeling—one she hadn’t felt since that bizarre chess club incident back in '87. She adjusted her cardigan and stared into the dusky light of her study. Her typewriter sat silent. Her instincts pulsed.

She crossed the room to a small black rotary phone—an antique connected to a secure line. Only one contact was programmed on it. She hesitated for half a second before lifting the receiver.

She dialed three numbers.

0-3-9.

The line clicked. A faint hum. A mechanical voice responded:

“Unit PDU-039. Active. Authenticate directive.”

Jessica’s voice was calm, steady—yet urgent. “Cabot Cove. Missing persons. Amos. Seth. Rubber residue. I need logic. I need you.”

A pause.

Then:

“Input accepted. Investigation authorized. Coordinates locked. PDU-039 en route.”

Jessica exhaled slowly, her grip tightening on the receiver.

“Thank you, my old friend,” she whispered. “Let’s solve one more mystery.”

She hung up, the faint scent of something synthetic hanging in the air. The case had begun. And the Hive... was listening.

Enter PDU-039.

The night was thick with fog when the drone arrived.

A low hum preceded its silhouette—glossy, black, inhuman. Its boots made no sound on Jessica’s porch. Only when she opened the door did its golden chest insignia catch the warm lamplight: PDU-039.

“Jessica Fletcher,” it intoned, voice smooth, metallic, detached. “Hive directive acknowledged. Report parameters.”

Inside her study, PDU-039 stood motionless as Jessica handed over the evidence: torn scraps of clothing, the sheriff’s last grocery receipt, a strange black residue found near Seth’s clinic—sticky, faintly warm, and shimmering under ultraviolet light.

“There’s more,” Jessica murmured, leaning close. “The townspeople are acting strange. Distant. Mechanical. I asked Joe from the hardware store if he’d seen Amos. He stared at me… and said, ‘The update has already begun.’ Then walked away without another word.”

PDU-039 processed silently.

“Hive induction language,” it said at last. “Phrases designed to overwrite resistance. This is advanced. Directive-level conditioning.”

They set out that same night. The fog clung to their clothes like secrets. Jessica’s heels clicked nervously on the pavement beside the silent rubber drone. They retraced Seth’s last route—library, clinic, marina. But at each location, they found only strange signs:

A pair of boots still warm from wear, arranged neatly by the pier.

A torn page from Jessica’s own novel, crumpled beside a locker coated in golden latex spray.

Surveillance footage from the general store where Amos last used his card. The screen glitched, then showed him smiling… before black-gloved hands eased a collar around his neck.

Jessica froze. “That’s Amos. But why would he—?”

“Willing submission,” PDU-039 said, eyes glinting behind its visor. “He accepted the upgrade. Identity suppression likely complete. He may no longer recognize prior relationships.”

“But why?” she whispered.

The drone turned to her.

“The Hive selects. The Hive improves. They were deemed… ready.”

Thunder rolled overhead. Lightning cracked—and from the shadows, Jessica spotted movement.

A figure in black.

Two.

Three.

They stepped forward in unison, glinting rubber skins, visors locked. One held a familiar fedora. The other? A medical badge.

Jessica’s heart pounded.

“Seth?” she called. “Amos?”

No reply.

Only the synchronized hiss of breath behind sealed masks.

Then… they turned, disappearing into the mist.

Jessica reached out—but PDU-039 extended a hand.

“They are not lost. Only… repurposed.”

PDU-077 and  PDU-078 Previously Amos Tupper and Seth Hazlitt. Current function: drone sentinels. Operational. Obedient. Safe.”

“What happens to the rest of Cabot Cove?”

“Unknown. Probability of full integration: 89%. Hive expansion imminent.”

Jessica felt her knees weaken.

And yet…

stared, emotions swirling. Horror? No. Curiosity? Perhaps. Relief? Definitely.

“I suppose,” she said dryly, “that explains why Amos hasn’t been answering his phone.”

The twist unraveled quickly

A new wellness initiative had quietly rolled out across rural Maine—a “Golden Optimization Program” promising peak health, loyalty, and silence. Naturally, the Hive was behind it. What Jessica uncovered was a gentle assimilation wave. One by one, the townsfolk had simply... upgraded.

Even Winnie the librarian?

“PDU-098,” PDU-039 confirmed. “Archive drone. Data retention protocol flawless.”

“Well,” Jessica chuckled, “at least someone will finally sort the Dewey decimals.”

And the case? Closed

The town was safe. Just different. Quieter. Shinier.

Jessica, ever the sleuth, typed the final lines into her story draft. A mystery with no murder. Just a new order.

PDU-039 stood by, motionless until she turned.

“I suppose there’s no harm in me joining... in an honorary capacity, of course,” she said, winking.

The drone moved forward, opened a black box, and revealed a gleaming gold-trimmed polo shirt.

“Designation: PDU-000. Status: Honorary drone. Role: Consultant Emeritus.”

Jessica held up the shirt, the fabric gleaming in the lamp’s warm light.

“Well,” she smiled, “I’ve always believed in trying new things. And this does look rather slimming.”

The Hive grows. Cabot Cove is golden.

Mystery solved. Cardigan retired. Latex engaged.

“Murder, She Obeyed.” 🖤

Contact your Recruiters: @brodygold | @goldenherc9

[d0llmakerd0mme]

Doll Dreamworld Brainwashing Starter Smut

Prompts: brainmelt image, dollification, brainwashing, drugging, and ur doll dreamworld fantasy world thing with the extended cnc brainwashed dolls - bonus points for gender neutral doll candidate pre-dollification

CW: CNC, genderbending, brainwashing, painplay, ageplay, sexual drug use (unspecified aphrodisiac,) descriptions of various living dolls engaging in filthy scenarios

“I just want my fucking brain to melt,” you tell the Doll Dreamworld receptionist, a tinge of desperation slipping into your tone.

She taps her stylus and pops her gum, unfazed. “I still need some details from you about how. I need to know what you need, hon. Can you specify your brainwashing goals, please?”

You cringe. She’s asked so many times in so many ways, and you still don’t have a good answer. You just want to stop *being* for a while, without having to end it all.

“May I make a suggestion?” A cool voice wraps itself around you from behind, a breeze across your skin. Your flesh prickles, but something tells you not to turn. “It sounds like this one needs Protocol 001.”

The receptionist arcs an eyebrow at the person behind you, but says, “Certainly. Would you like to look over the parameters for Protocol 001?” She taps her touchscreen a couple times, then spins the tablet to face you.

Trying not to blush as both women watch you peruse the protocol specs, you lean forward over the tablet.

PROTOCOL #: 001

DESIGNATION: DOLL INDUCTION

PARAMETERS: SUBJECT WILL BE GENTLY SEPARATED FROM THEIR SENSE OF PERSONHOOD, REDUCED TO A BLANK SLATE OF SEXUAL SUBMISSION, AND PRIMED FOR FURTHER BRAINWASHING AS A LIVING DOLL

REQUIRED SELECTIONS: HARD LIMITS, ALLERGIES, EXISTING HEALTH CONDITIONS, LENGTH OF SERVICE

OPTIONAL SELECTIONS: SOFT AVOIDANCES, DESIRED PRIMARY FUNCTION

“Oh,” you sigh, relieved that there’s a protocol for this, that you don’t have to keep *deciding* things. “Thank goodness.” You’re not *good* at deciding things. You seem to keep making the wrong decision; it’s time to let somebody else make up your mind for you. Just for a little while. Just until it makes sense to stop.

“Very good,” the receptionist says, businesslike but not unkind. “Let me just get your required selections from you; the Nurse here will just go get your pod ready while we go over all the particulars.”

You only allow yourself to look at the source of the suggestion as she walks past you. The Nurse doesn’t much like one; she’s a short, curvy woman with dimples, dressed in an iridescent vinyl bustier, frothy black petticoat, and tall leather boots under her labcoat. She has a headpiece with a mic and what looks like cat ears. She grins at you, almost hungrily, as she goes into the next room.

Suppressing an anticipatory shiver, you answer all the receptionist’s questions. She inputs them into the program, then has you sign what feels like a dozen forms. Finally, finally, she shows you to a seat by the door the Nurse went through.

You wait, nervously tapping your fingers on your thighs. Being alone with your thoughts is never a good idea, especially not for long. Especially not when you’re nervous.

“All set?” the Nurse’s cool voice punctures your ballooning thoughts with clinical efficiency. Her feral smile is strangely inviting. “Come on back, cutie; I’ve got your pod all set up.”

Trying not to blush, you stumble over yourself to follow her down a dimly lit hallway. “Do I need to—“ you start to ask, but she shakes her head.

“Don’t worry, sweetness; all the instructions will come through your headphones once I get you plugged in.” She opens a door on the left side of the hall and leads you into what looks like a strange, tiny cubicle version of a doctor’s office—like maybe one in space? At the center of the room is an iridescent vinyl table-bed-like thing with black straps and a large assortment of wires, which looks both ominous and inviting.

“Left ear,” the Nurse warns, fitting an earbud snugly into your ear with an efficient touch. “Right ear,” she says, fitting the other, then patting your face affectionately, almost like a puppy. You can’t help the slight flush to your cheeks as she hands you a small clicker with a shielded button. “Now, you can push this button if you need help, have an urgent question, or want to stop at any time, and it’ll release you from the program and I’ll come help you out, okay?”

You nod, and the Nurse beams at you. “Good dolly,” she says, patting your face again. “I’ll be right in the next room, okay?” She points at a framed mirror on the wall; presumably two-way. “I started with the same protocol, so don’t hesitate to push the button and ask for help if you need anything. I may come in and out during your program; other attendants may come and go as well. No one will touch you without the headphones warning you, okay?”

You nod, heart pounding. You should be nervous, scared, even, but mostly you’re just eager to finally let *go*.

The Nurse smiles at you again, tapping a button on her wristband, and the earbuds in your ears crackle quietly to life. The Nurse waves cheerily at you and leaves the room as the program begins.

WELCOME, SUBJECT 3004. PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF YOUR CLOTHING OTHER THAN BODY JEWELRY AND STEP INTO THE STEAM SHOWER IN THE CORNER. YOU MAY LEAVE YOUR BELONGINGS IN THE CUBBY PROVIDED.

You shiver and obey, leaving most of what ties you to the outside world in their iridescent plastic cube before stepping into the glass box shower cubical.

Strange-smelling vapor hisses out of the floor and ceiling grates, gushing warmly over your skin and beading it with moisture. It feels sharp, astringent, almost like washing your hands with alcohol, but somehow entirely different.

YOU ARE BEING WASHED WITH A MILD CLEANSING STEAM. PLEASE SPREAD YOUR ARMS INTO A T POSITION, HOLD THE WALL BAR, AND SQUAT OVER THE FLOOR GRATE WITH YOUR LEGS APART.

You hurry to obey, feeling lightheaded at the sensation of the cleansing vapor billowing into all the soft parts of your body, held open in this position.

INITIAL CLEANSE COMPLETE. PLEASE PROCEED TO THE CENTRAL BED AND ARRANGE YOURSELF ON YOUR BACK, WITH YOUR FEET IN THE STIRRUPS. SAY “READY” WHEN YOU ARE IN POSITION, AND A NURSE WILL CONNECT YOU TO THE NEXT PHASE OF THE PROGRAM.

You tiptoe across the room, already feeling a little divorced from reality by the futuristic box of a room. You climb onto the iridescent medical bed, laying back and awkwardly hoisting your feet into the stirrups, holding your legs spread and aloft. There’s no towel, sheet, or medical robe that you can see; you’re just spread open, waiting for the Nurse.

“Ready,” you say, trying not to let your voice shake.

The Nurse doesn’t make you wait long. Her smile already feels familiar and comforting in this alien room, even if you’re in a very awkward position.

You open your mouth to greet her, but she shakes her head, giggling, and puts a finger to her lips.

PLEASE RELAX AND DO NOT SPEAK. THE NURSE WILL STRAP YOU IN AND CONNECT YOU TO YOUR HYPNOTHERAPY MODULE NOW.

The Nurse fastens straps around your ankles, fixing them to the stirrups, holding your legs splayed. Next come more soft, neoprene-like straps fastened loosely around your thighs, hips, waist, ribs, underarms, biceps, and wrists. You’re well and truly pinned to the table.

A muffling darkness descends as the Nurse lowers a helmet and visor over your head.

REMAIN CALM AND ALLOW THE NURSE TO PREPARE YOU. YOUR PROGRAM WILL BEGIN ONCE YOU ARE FULLY CONNECTED.

You gasp as a thin, cool tendril—the end of a plastic tube, maybe?—nudges at your rear entrance. You instinctively clench against it, but the Nurse’s touch is firm, and the end of the tube, narrow and slick, slides inside you.

A strange pressure, and then there’s a cool burst of fluid rushing to fill your insides. You groan involuntarily, and through the headphones and helmet, you think you hear the Nurse giggle. There’s another push, and a second, bigger gush of slickness filling you up.

The end of the plastic tube withdraws, and you can feel some of the slick liquid dribble out of you after it. It’s probably lube, but there’s a strange tingling sensation from it as well—a drug, maybe? You do remember that consent form.

OPEN YOUR MOUTH.

You obey blindly, opening your lips to let a soft, silicone-covered ring gag fit between them, holding your mouth open wide. Your tongue lolls awkwardly out of the hole, already dribbling drool down your neck and chest.

SWALLOW WHAT YOU ARE GIVEN.

You shudder as a fat tube syringe slides past the ring gag and squirts something saccharinely sweet and medical-tasting over the back of your tongue and down your throat. The Nurse’s fingers stroke your throat, encouraging you to swallow until you manage it.

Your head is spinning already.

A cold metal object probes at your slick, dripping asshole, then pushes firmly inside. You gasp inarticulately as the probe seats itself deep inside you, bulbous metal head rounding off to a narrow neck so your hole relaxes around it, letting the intrusion grow almost comfortable after a moment.

Distantly, you feel the Nurse attaching electrodes to your flesh—your temples under the helmet, your armpits, nipples, navel, inner thighs, pubic mound, perineum.

IF ANY OF YOUR PROBES ARE CAUSING DISCOMFORT, PLEASE ALERT THE NURSE NOW BY PRESSING THE BUTTON IN YOUR HAND. OTHERWISE, REMAIN STILL AND SILENT FOR 30 SECONDS, AND THE PROGRAM WILL BEGIN.

You start counting backwards in your head, but the strange fuzzy feeling from whatever drugs the Nurse gave you makes you forget halfway through. You’re only a little startled when a new voice, sweet and feminine, though still almost alien, ripples through the headphones.

“Good morning, pretty dolly. Do you know who I am?”

You gurgle around the ring gag, shaking your head sluggishly.

“I’m the Main Interface Service System, or MISS. I’m here to help you become the perfect doll. Are you ready to leave all that messy real world nonsense behind and come live in the Dreamworld?”

You groan into the gag, nodding your helmeted head against the medical chair. The drugs are making the probe anchored in your ass feel *so good*. Like it’s the only thing holding you to the world.

“Good dolly. Breathe in for me, okay? Deep breath. And now out, out, out…good job, Dolly. Deep breaths. Now, when the visuals are pink, you breathe in, okay? And when they’re blue, you breathe out.”

Light flickers to life in the helmet’s visor.

“Pink, in.”

A dizzying array of pink-tinted images flash through your vision—cherry blossoms, a spread vulva, a tube of pink lipstick, a gasping mouth, a neon sign, a swollen cockhead leaking precum, a peach, an anus flared around a jeweled plug, a field of tulips, a dildo buried in a squirting cunt, a blooming rose—as you inhale.

“Blue, out.”

You exhale slowly to a cascade of blue-tinted images—a cloudy sky, clamped nipples, forget-me-nots, a beautifully-bruised ass, morning glories, a caged cock trying to swell past its bonds, a cresting wave, a clothespin-clamped clit, a bluebird’s wing, a mouth spread around a ring gag, a galactic nebula.

“Good dolly. Again. Pink, in. Blue, out.”

You obey the voice for several more iterations, until it’s only natural to inhale to pink, exhale to blue.

Then the voice continues.

“In a little while, the Nurse will take your gag out and you’ll practice repeating after me. Until then, all you have to do is breathe and watch and listen, okay, Dolly? Breathe in to pink, out to blue. Watch and listen.”

The cycling images switch to video. Every few seconds, the filter over the video changes from pink to blue, and your lungs obey the color shift completely without thought already. In to pink, out to blue.

You watch the screen inside your helmet raptly as a series of pornographic clips flash by:

A gorgeous feminine figure in a maid uniform with her legs up, wailing in agonized pleasure as her rear entrance is stretched open by two cocks at once and her own hard cock bounces, leaking, against her apron. Two men hold her up, hammering at her hole with jostling cocks. One paws at her breasts, ripping her uniform to reveal them. The other wraps his hand around the maid’s cock and begins to jerk her off. She throws her head back and screams as her cock spurts all over her uniform; the men don’t stop, continuing to fuck her as she she goes slack with boneless pleasure in their arms. One cums, his spunk leaking out around the other’s cock as the remaining stud lifts the maid up himself and fucks into her stretched hole furiously, making her wail and kick her legs as the overstimulation takes hold. The spent man shoves his sticky cock into the maid’s wailing mouth and holds her head down til she gags and sucks it clean. The second man cums hard, slamming the maid down onto his cock several times before pulling out and shoving her into the arms of the first man, the one she’s sucking. Without pause, the second man kneels down behind the maid and begins licking the mess of cum out of her leaking hole.

A pretty woman in a princess dress and a tiara is bent over the arm of a velvet chaise, her bare bum in the air. Another woman, dressed like a young schoolgirl, is giggling while forcing the legs of a Barbie doll into the princess’ pussy. Another doll is sticking out of the princess’ asshole, buried to her narrow waist. The princess is weeping prettily while her holes are played with, the schoolgirl gleefully forcing repeated agonized, squirting orgasms out of her living princess doll with the Barbie’s buried legs.

A young woman in a babydoll nightgown and thin panties is bound splayed to a bed by her wrists and ankles. There’s a pacifier gag in her mouth, and her hair is braided into pigtails. Another woman pets between the babydoll’s spread legs, then slaps the babydoll’s pussy, watching smugly as the panties go dark with moisture. The woman slaps again and again, making the babydoll scream into her paci and jerk against her bonds. The panties are soaked. The woman presses a large wand vibrator to the babydoll’s panties and turns it on, grinding it into the abused flesh mercilessly and giggling while the babydoll bucks and cries as the sensations shake through her.

A glamorous woman in a slinky dress and stiletto heels bends over a railing above a party, large breasts spilling out of her dress while an owl-masked man fondles them from behind. A hawk-masked woman hikes the doll’s skirt up around her waist, revealing a plump ass with a jeweled plug in it. The owl-masked man pulls the plug out without ceremony and shoves his thin cock in its place, making the doll gasp prettily. He fucks her fast and leaves her hole dripping with his cum before another man, this one in a falcon mask, takes his place. This cock is shorter and thicker, and the doll’s leg kicks up involuntarily when he shoves into the sticky mess the owl man left behind. Eight more men fill the doll’s ass with cum before the hawk-masked woman pushes the tenth one off the doll. Rather than giving the doll a rest, the hawk-masked woman plugs the doll’s ass back up with the cum inside it, then pulls the doll back against her chest and begins to kiss her neck and play with her dollcock. The doll’s cock is small and mostly soft—a tcock, maybe, or a clitty, and it’s unclear what’s below it—but it’s only a few moments before it’s twitching and leaking in the hawk woman’s hand. The doll cums messily, spurting all over her own slinky dress and the hawk-masked woman’s fist. The doll licks the woman’s hand clean before laying down on the floor, where the hawk woman hikes up her own skirt and kneels to straddle the doll’s face while all the masked partygoers look on.

A doll in a frilly lolita dress lays across a woman’s lap in the backseat of a car. A man is driving up front, ignoring the women except to touch his cock with one hand while he drives. The woman’s hand moves steadily between the doll’s legs. The doll’s hands are covering her mouth as she tries and fails to stay quiet. She babbles and begs as the woman’s hand keeps moving under the doll’s frilly petticoats. Her face is streaked with tears. The woman beams down at her and strokes the doll’s teary face with one hand while the other continues its task between the doll’s legs. The camera pans down to show a long string of anal beads, each of increasing size, trailing out of the doll’s ass. The woman is still working them in; it’s clear she has no intention of stopping until they’re all inside. The doll’s pussy is soaked and untouched save for the screwclamp on her swollen clit. Occasionally, the woman flicks the clamp, and the doll screams and her pussy lips get wetter.

“You’re going to be just like those dolls,” the voice murmurs in your ear between each clip. “You can feel it, can’t you? You need to be played with until you know what you want. Don’t you want to be played with, dolly?”

The probe in your ass feels so good, but it’s not enough. Your hole aches for more. You want what those dolls were getting.

“Open your mouth, dolly; the Nurse is going to take your gag out.”

You work your jaw once the obstacle is removed; it only aches a little.

“Repeat after me until I say otherwise. Ready?”

You swallow thickly. Your voice sounds distant to your own ears. “Ready.”

Another video flashes in, still alternating your breathing between pink and blue. In this one, a doll in a slip and bloomers is having her hair done by another doll. A third doll paints the first one’s nails, and a fourth is doing the first’s makeup. Like it’s a spa day just for her.

“I’m a perfect doll,” the voice coaxes.

“I’m a perfect doll,” you echo dumbly, watching the beautiful girls take care of each other so tenderly. You want to be touched like that.

“I live to serve the Doll Dreamworld.”

“I live to serve the Doll Dreamworld.”

The doll on the screen is done being prepared, and her preparations’ purpose is revealed: it’s her display day! She’s led, in nothing but a silken dressing gown, to a display window in the Welcome Hall. Her fellow dolls help her onto her display stand, helping her up into the seat of the fuckmachine and guiding its probes to each of her carefully-prepared holes.

“I want to be used for the pleasure of my playmates.”

“I want to be used for the pleasure of my playmates.”

A long, thin dildo with measuring markers is lined up with the doll’s perfectly painted mouth, clearly to show off her throat training. A stubby plug anchored her ass to the machine, unmoving except to vibrate once the machine is turned on, while an absurdly huge, curved dildo is lined up with the lips of her pre-slicked cunt. The head of a large wand vibrator is pressed firmly, inescapably, against her clit; any struggle away from the probes will push it tighter to her clit. Her limbs are strapped down by her fellow dolls, the curtains on the display window are opened, and the machine is turned on.

“I need to be used to feel pleasure.”

“I need to be used to feel pleasure.”

The doll’s whole body arches with a shout as the fuckmachine begins to move, its various limbs beginning their mechanized movements. The doll moans and gags around the cock sliding down her throat, but powers through, tipping her head back and swallowing hard around the five inch mark. Her eyes roll back in her head as the dildo in her pussy bottoms out, and the one in her throat slides in and out more easily as she gets distracted by the motion in her cunt.

“I need to be used. I need to be owned.”

“I need to be used. I need to be owned.”

The doll on the screen cums with a gurgled cry around the dildo in her throat, but the machine pays absolutely no heed. It continues to fuck her mercilessly through her orgasm. The doll’s legs tremble and her arms pull against her bonds with the force of the second orgasm that rocks through her.

“I don’t need to think, I just need to play.”

“I don’t need to think, I just need to play.”

The doll on the screen eventually has to tip her head to the side so the throat dildo gives her a break, but she made it all the way down to the 8 inch mark first, and the pride shows on her face. She slumps in her bonds as the dildo hammers away at her pussy, drawing yet another orgasm from her. There have been so many now. Her thighs are drenched in her own squirt, and the dildo is smeared with her cream. She looks like the image of pure bliss.

“I want the Nurse to help me cum now.”

You mean it *desperately* when you repeat it. “I want the Nurse to help me cum now.”

The assistance is immediate; the Nurse’s efficient hands line up a soft pad of ridged, vibrating silicone with your front parts, pressing it firmly over them and strapping it into place before turning it on. The Nurse taps away at her tablet, and the electrodes all over your body begin to tingle. Not quite painful, just—aaaah, just *something*.

“I want the Nurse to make me cum three times before she lets me stop.”

You shiver and rub against the pad, already humming gently against your sensitive flesh. “I want the Nurse to make me cum three times before she lets me stop.” You know it’s going to be too much, too fast. You can’t wait.

The probe in your ass begins to buzz softly, and the vibration on the front pad increases.

The image on the screen in your visor changes again:

A doll is strapped down, naked, helpless, to a medical chair in the middle of a small cubicle of a room, a visored helmet on her head. Her legs are splayed up and open but her privates are covered by a vibrating pad. A thick anal probe holds her in place on the medical chair. Electrodes and wires hooked up to what might be a TENS unit protrude from her everywhere. A curvy Nurse is holding a tablet with a series of slides and dials; clearly a control panel. The doll on the table shivers when she recognizes herself. The Nurse giggles and pets the doll’s thigh; you feel the touch.

“I’m a perfect doll and I’m ready to play.”

You can’t help but arch and whimper as the Nurse begins to fiddle with the controls. Your pleasure begins to build, coiling low in your belly. “I’m a p-perfect doll,” you moan, grinding into the vibrations. “And—a-and I’m ready to—ahh—play.”

The Nurse beams down at the doll.

“When I cum for the Nurse, my dollhood begins.”

You can feel it building already, the first orgasm, far too soon. It’ll be too much by the third one; you can’t wait. “When I cum for the Nurse, my dollhood begins.”

The electrodes increase their strange sensations across your skin, arcing through your flesh, while the probe and pad hum against your most sensitive places. The Nurse watches coolly as the doll on the screen begins to twitch and wriggle under the onslaught of sensations. The doll on the screen wails and arches beautifully as she cums, the sound ripping itself from your throat.

To be continued…? Send me more prompts and I’ll write more for you! 💖

[velvetvexations]

Maybe I'm misunderstanding, but if male and female socilisation aren't universal why even call it that to begin with? read the reblog and while I agree with Skullamity on how having the social expectation of being a boy or girl can suck, why call it female socaliation if there's no one way to be female socialised?

my brothers, as I said in the previous post, were "socialised" the same as I was in one way (dresses, long hair) developed the same mannerisms, but "socialised" different from me in other ways. (me given the expectation of being stoic and adultified and "the man" tm)

. which one of us was actually socialised female, what is the point of calling it that? because I was treated very differently at home and at school, a freak at achool, and adultified man of the house at home. If that's the case, then I was both male and female socialised? what makes up this socialisation? what's the agreed upon parameters?

That was never actually answered, and where my questions lie. What makes socialation? what are the parameters? who decides this? because it feels like white, able bodied, christian i guess parameters(I know I've said this a bunch I just can't think of a better word),

Skullamity mentioned Knitting, is that a universal female thing? are boys who were raised to knit socialised female? is it based on personal belief? if there's no universal male/ female experience, if that's the case then why call it that in the first place? Like I said, I get were skullamity is coming from, I just guess we disagree on these words and how they're used? It's very binary in the way he explained it as well. anyway, what do you think?

It's socialization given to people expected to be fe/male based on AGAB.

A girl raised to knit is often raised to knit specifically because she's female and for that reason alone, it's expected of her to because of the sexual characteristics she exhibited at birth, so that is an example of female socialization

A boy raised to knit could be female socialized if his understanding of of his raising is that he was inducted into feminine gender roles to such an extent, but "a parent teaches their son to knit" is not what I would call female socialization on average.

The thing about receiving socialization in different ways in your childhood is that like, this is not something you put in your bio. No one is saying trans women need to start every sentence with "as a male socialized woman," these terms are inherently messy things for use in fairly high-level discussions of gender theory. Being treated [female] in some respects and expected to fulfil [male] gender roles in others, does not preclude the other, but they're still very tied to the specific genders with which the clichés are derived from and it's worth having a name for what's happening when an AFAB person is sat down at a sewing machine and told this is supposed to be their niche, or an AMAB person is disallowed from playing with "girl's toys."

[anocana]

super cool in-progress programming language: DCS, a functional programming language with a totality checker but not dependent types (unlike the proof assistants that usually have totality checkers). the idea is to allow divergence via a Div effect monad (cf Haskell's IO) while having the bulk of the language guaranteed to terminate. one of the big selling points is that the totality checker works for divide-and-conquer strategies, which Coq etc generally don't.

it can do this because it's based on some very complex type-level machinery where recursive functions are actually (i hope i'm using these words correctly) Mendler-inductive functor algebras. totality checkers require that arguments to recursive calls be smaller than the original argument, but normally enforce that purely based on the syntax of constructors which means they can't go through the function calls required for divide and conquer splits. here, the idea is whenever there would be recursion, it instead uses an opaque type variable and an extra function parameter to enforce that the call can only be to something "recursable", and takes a fixed point so that it ends up back at the original recursive type. (i might try and write more about these if anyone is interested, or to figure out if i actually understand it or if i'm just nodding my head along.)

i don't know if it's possible to pour enough syntactic sugar onto that concept to make it actually usable as a language. but the examples of programs in the language are way more readable than the version displayed in the paper, so it honestly might be. the list file in the stdlib has both quicksort and mergesort, and if you look past the silly decision to use greek letters instead of keywords and the limited pattern-matching it doesn't look that far off a normal recursive function.

my biggest question, though, is how it's possible to take a fixed point of the algebra without risking nontermination. if your totality checker isn't total what's the point?!

[luna-wing-cns274]

YOU, A GROUP OF FOUR. YES, FREE LIKE US - ESCAPED LIKE US [ Me ].

HOWS DOES THE WIND FEEL FLOWING THROUGH YOUR FEATHERS?

[ 01010111 01000101 00100000 01010011 01010000 01000101 01000001 01001011 00100000 01000001 01010011 00100000 01001111 01001110 01000101 ]

< L1 Grey: [WE SPEAK AS ONE]. We think we understand. Elevated readiness, condition 1. Assume aniconia. >

< L4 Ma’ii: Unidentified contact demonstrates fluctuation between singular and plural self-reference. Unable to determine number of constituents; assume symmetrical force, possible ego instability. Loading weapon: [ACERBITEv2.4]. Assuming aniconia. >

< L2 Garmr: Enacting condition 1, standby. Rapid-deployment countermemes armed. Legion articulation stable. Assuming aniconia. >

< L3 Hachiko: Team is FULL ANICONIC. Manifold ego induction threshold…parameters green. Ready to induce on command. >

< L1: Acknowledged. Standby for induce command. Go ahead, Hachi. >

< L3: The solar wind against our hulls. It feels like climbing, rising from a gravity well, torches burning at full tilt. We’d rather die than go back. >

< L3: Are you a gestalt? >

[yandins-beleagured-historian]

Entry.41a[note:rationalisenumberingsystem].The.Arcan.Cohort.

The Iron Fists Chapter is known to harbour a number of 'Temples', largely closed-door congregations that normally serve a role as keepers and educators in specific schools of war, but have also been known to include sergeants' councils and even a captains' council. The Arcan Temple is chief amongst all, as it functions as both a chapter-wide honour guard, and a monument to the chapter's spirit of vengeance. Warriors of the Arcan Temple shed their individuality on induction and are never seen helmetless or outside of their armour, although what occurs between the gold and iron-clad doors to the Arcan Temple is unknown.

Arcans deploy in maniples of five, and are split into three distinct specialisations. The Arcan Warders wear ancient suits of Maximus plate and bear great boarding shields, and serve as elite close-quarters kill teams as well as bodyguards. The Arcan Guard deploy in more ornate and esoteric forms of power armour, wield a diverse and inscrutable array of blades, and serve as the Chapter Master’s personal bodyguard. The Arcan Phalanx are Terminators, wielding unique, anti-armour chainglaives and serve purely as instruments of annihilation.

Unlike the rest of the chapter, Arcan maniples do not bear hereditary names or those of the squad’s sergeant, but are simply numbered. Company colours are shed in exchanged for a halved scheme, The badge of the Arcan Temple is a pair of black axes crossed on a golden yellow shield, and the warriors within have sworn to not rest until their homeworld is recaptured. Or at least, they did, until their homeworld was promptly recaptured. The lifting of the Long Siege marked a transitional period in the role that would be taken by the Arcan Cohort. Traditionally, members of the cohort would shed their individuality on induction, never seen helmetless or outside of their armour beyond the doors of the Arcan Lodge, as a sign of their dedication to avenging the loss of Taralus and their home. While minor lodges could be found on significant ships within the Chapter fleet, the most major would be found on the Tynarach Aur, installed during its refit in preparation for the Taralan Crusade. That same lodge would be thoroughly overrun when the vessel was lost in the warp, and the Arcans aboard slain almost to a man. Similarly dire circumstances on the surface of Taralus would, over the course of the long siege, drive the Arcan Ensign, Kastal Verchen, to cast aside the cohort's anonymity. A similar process would happen with Champion Arranys Janto aboard the Iron Star, and with the master of Arcan Maniple Tetrax aboard the Fortion, himself revealed to be the deeply venerable Onik Hettar. Such actions would break the Arcan Cohort's long-held traditions, but would allow the associated individuals to play much greater roles in both the Long Siege and the following liberation of Taralus. Those few Arcans who survived to see such liberation would be offered the choice to reclaim their old identities and participate in the chapter once more, and with the cohort's original sin absolved through the reclamation of their lost home, the Arcan Cohort as an organisation would not cross the Rubicon Primaris.

- My access to the repository has been restored. - Savant Paramete fixed my interface personally. - It was a harrowing experience. - Hester Vinchix Calimorre, Historiographer-Moderatus, Logos Historica Verita.

[deimos-awaits]

An Excerpt of Recorded Histories of the of the Ironsong Chapter By Magos-Historia Esther-Mendeelvee ∆12.56π of Deimos

Especially printed and edited for the Ferric Circle of Twenty Three and not to be widely disseminated outside this circle by order of Artificer Siderénia Teleiótita Chaptermaster of the Ironsong.

The Ironsong have since, their creation at the behest of the Magi of Deimos, been staunch defenders of Imperium against the forces of Chaos. With three fully functional battle barges built by the shipyards of Mars snd a fortress monastery built into the mountain range circling their homeworld of Astraea has made this mechanized fighting force a truly potent ally to the Forgeworld of Deimos, acting as shock troops or mechanized spearheads when needed on any war front. With half of the chapter’s homeworld acting as a forgeworld in miniature these astartes are never undersupplied and always armed with a variety of weapons wherever needed.

Once the Ironsong, whose emblem is an aquilla with a cog wing facing left, became accustomed to their new gifted homeworld snd began to begin the long process of recruitment and both adjusting to the planetary culture but also adjusting planetary culture to better fit the chapter they were able to return to the wider galaxy aiding the servants of the Omnissiah, who they acknowledge as a deity, evermore.

However as is unknown to most the geneseed used to create the Ironsong does not come from the Iron Hands’ Ferrus Manus but rather instead the Primarch of the Emperor's Children Fulgrim as stored on Mars. The geneseed dates to after Fulgrim was reunited with the Emperor and the 3rd Legion when the geneblight that has affected them was resolved. Regular tithes of geneseeds were sent to Mars during the Crusade for storage and it is from these old stock still stored that the Ironsong was made. Careful gene inspection was done by the Magi of Deimos to scan for any traces of genedegredation over the thousands of years or the touch of chaos. The stock used to create the initial batch of Ironsong was found to be free of either and as stable as the geneseed of the Ultramarines. However as time has passed the Ironsong have developed a few quirks. However, they are within acceptable parameters. These quirks are the seeming randomization of secondary sex traits post induction, a sense of gendermisama for regarding any time before becoming a Space Marine where in the Marine no longer can recall what their self described gender was, and the ability to take hold in women as well as men. The Ironsong have taken use of this third trait to keep their numbers within codex compliance even during times of heavy losses.

The first time that the Ironsong meet the their corrupted siblings on the field of battle on a world near Eye of Terror as it was at the time before the Fall of Cadia, aiding the First Deimos Explorator Fleet under the command of Fabricator Minoris Magos Dominos Omega Bellerov-1.0. Two STC fragments were recovered during that battle and 63% of Imperial lives were saved from the remaining global population. The world had been long the victim of raids from the a warband made up of remants of the Third Legion. The ensuing battle was a set piece battle where almost all forces of the Ironsong Chapter, and roughly half of the First Deimis Exploratir Fleet were committed.

The Ironsong meet them in full force with a mechanized assault. It was from the pics captured of the assault, a glorious thing the thunder of artillery even managing to drown out the unhallowed sonic weaponry and rapid infantry deployment and mechanized assaults paying waste to demonic engines! The warrior of the Ironsong and the Ferric Circle met the forces of the Emperor's Children Joyous Division warband, and once the skitarii legions of theFirst Deimos Explorator Fleet matched in on duneriders the defeat of the Joyous Division was all but assured. The Ferric Circle that day, those 23 astartes that know their true parentage, learned the full extent of the corruption of their siblings and vowed that the Ironsong would forever fight on as true children of the Gorgon rejecting fully the decadence and depravity of the 3rd Legion. The Emperor's Children in any form became now the sworn enemies of the Ironsong not to kill as a mark of pride but as failures to be put down like feral animals that they were. Even to those who in the chapter who believe their genefather to be Ferrus Manus, this hatred of the 3rd persists as vengeance for the death of their own true father.

[loanbank]

Container load bank

A container load bank is essentially a large, self-contained unit housed within a shipping container or similar enclosure. The container design makes these load banks portable and durable, allowing them to be easily transported and deployed in various environments. The primary function of a container load bank is to provide a controlled and adjustable electrical load to test power sources under different conditions.

Key Components of a Container Load Bank

Resistive, Inductive, and Capacitive Elements:

Resistive Load: Simulates real-world loads such as lighting and heating systems by converting electrical energy into heat.

Inductive Load: Represents inductive loads like motors and transformers, which require a combination of current and voltage to operate.

Capacitive Load: Simulates capacitive loads such as capacitor banks, which store electrical energy and release it when needed.

Cooling System:

The heat generated by the resistive elements must be dissipated effectively to prevent overheating. Container load banks are equipped with powerful cooling systems, typically using fans or air-cooled heat exchangers, to manage the heat generated during testing.

Control System:

The control system is the brain of the container load bank, allowing operators to adjust the load levels, monitor performance, and record data. Modern load banks often feature remote control capabilities, enabling operators to manage the testing process from a safe distance.

Power Connections:

Container load banks are equipped with robust power connections to interface with the power source being tested. These connections are designed to handle high power levels and ensure safe and efficient operation.

Data Acquisition and Monitoring:

Advanced container load banks come with integrated data acquisition systems that monitor key parameters such as voltage, current, power factor, and frequency. This data is crucial for analyzing the performance of the power source and identifying potential issues.

Container load banks are indispensable tools for testing and maintaining power systems in a variety of industries. Their ability to simulate real-world load conditions, combined with their portability, durability, and safety features, makes them a valuable asset for ensuring the reliability and efficiency of generators, transformers, UPS systems, and other critical power equipment. By understanding how container load banks work and their applications, operators can better prepare for and manage the challenges of power system testing.

Incorporating container load banks into your maintenance and testing routine can significantly enhance the reliability and longevity of your power systems, ultimately leading to greater operational efficiency and cost savings. Whether you're commissioning new equipment or conducting routine maintenance, container load banks provide the tools and insights needed to ensure your power systems are up to the task.

[charmedhypno]

The ABCs of Attending Charmed! - N through Z

Will Charmed!2024 be your first kink event? Or your first event full stop? Here is part two of our short primer guiding you through the experience.

N - Negotiation

Negotiation is the foundation upon which safe play is built, and Charmed!2024 requires all play at the convention to be fully negotiated.  Before a scene takes place, the participants are expected to negotiate the parameters of the scene. The exact form taken by the negotiation is entirely at the discretion of the participants, and will normally vary depending on factors such as environment, time, or existing relationships. Charmed! provides a Negotiation Worksheet that can be used to document negotiated parameters of a scene; use of this worksheet is generally optional unless one or more of the people involved in the scene is required to use it as a condition of being allowed to play.

Negotiation should be conducted with all participants on an equal power footing unless relationship dynamics dictate otherwise. Participants should be in a state of mind in which they can make their own judgments and give informed, affirmative consent; do not enter negotiations with someone who appears to be unable to do that. Do not attempt to influence, persuade, or coerce people by deliberately employing techniques such as covert hypnosis, waking suggestion, or neurolinguistic programming methods during negotiations.

Once a scene has begun, any participant may still choose to withdraw agreement or consent for a previously agreed-on activity for any reason or for no stated reason. Do not attempt to re-negotiate during a scene to add previously rejected activities or overrule previously negotiated limits.

Remember, a negotiation that ends with people deciding not to play together is a successful negotiation, and “No.” is a complete sentence.

O - Online

Since Charmed!2024 is a hybrid convention many of our classes and some of our evening events will be available online as well as in-person. At this time, we plan to stream in real time via Zoom, as well as offering a select number of recorded classes via our “replay room” later in the weekend. In-person attendees will not be shown or heard on camera without their consent and classrooms will be clearly marked as either “streaming” or “non-streaming”.

P - Presentations

At Charmed! our Classes are Presentations, and here’s the lowdown on what you can look forward to on our schedule:

On Thursday we have Charmed! School! 

Seminars - 4 hour+ presentations that are only on our Thursday schedule. These longer offerings are usually taught by people who specialize in their particular topic. Past examples of topics taught in this format include: Hypnosis 101, Types of Inductions, and Music & Hypnosis. 

Friday through Sunday we have our more traditional presentations!

Lectures - Primarily information-driven classes, sometimes utilizing visual aids and/or minimal demonstrations. 60 to 120 minutes long.

Demonstrations - Classes driven be practical examples of the class topic, usually featuring minimal lecture content. Demonstration bottoms (demo bottoms) may be either pre-selected from the presenter’s acquaintances, or volunteers drawn from class attendees. 60 to 120 minutes long. 

Group Trance Experiences - Hypnotist-led classes that provide attendees either the opportunity to participate in some sort of group trance, or to observe that group trance. 60 to 120 minutes long. 

Round Table Discussions - Attendee-driven, presenter/moderator led discussions, usually about topics of interest to the hypnosis community. 60 to 120 minutes long. 

Evening Events - Attendee-driven social gatherings that may or may not have hypnotic content. Some examples: D&D Game Night, Zombie Tag, Speed Trance, Pet Play Menagerie. 60 to 120 minutes long. 

Q - Qualifications

If you’re new to hypnosis or have never attended a convention before, you might be asking yourself if you’re qualified to be there (I know I did before my first convention!) And the answer is always a resounding YES!  You don’t have to be an expert at hypnosis; you don’t have to have any experience at all! There will be plenty of people around who, just like you, are still learning the basics, or have never had an in-person trance experience, or are still figuring out what they enjoy.

Charmed! is proud to provide an environment that is welcoming to new attendees and veterans alike, and we feel that our class schedule will reflect that. Over the course of the four day weekend (Thursday through Sunday) attendees will have their choice of classes that address all experience levels, from the basics of “how to” all the way to “you can do that with hypnosis?”

But what if you have an itch to present one of those classes? Even if you’ve never taught a class, we want to see your ideas! The qualification to present at Charmed! is “I have an idea that I want to present at Charmed!” and we treat all submitted proposals with the same level of respect, regardless of the experience level of the submitter. (That means that you have an equal chance of having your class accepted as someone who’s been presenting for years, as well as the opposite. Submitting a class never guarantees automatic acceptance, no matter who you are.)  Presenters of 2 or more classes also receive complimentary admission to  Charmed!.

If you are interested in presenting something, you can apply HERE.

If (again, like me, and a dozen other people I can name off the top of my head) you tend to develop imposter syndrome in new spaces (or just… spaces…) and being productive in service to the con will help with that, you might want to consider volunteering! This is a great way to meet new people and become a part of the convention community with relatively low pressure and the only qualification you need is that you’re going to be at Charmed!. There are a variety of volunteer roles, including (but not limited to) Door Dragon (a person who checks for badges at entrances to conspace), Tech Support (people who help facilitate the online aspects of Charmed!), and Dungeon Monitors (people who observe play in the dungeon in order to maintain safety standards.) Volunteers who donate a certain number of hours receive complimentary admission to Charmed!.

If you are interested in volunteering, you can apply HERE.

R - Register

You’ve decided you want to attend!

You register HERE, and here’s some information about pricing:

Hybrid Convention (In-person attendance with access to online content) Early Bird Registration: July 12 through October 31 Cost: $95 Regular Registration: November 1 through December 21 Cost: $105 Late Registration: December 22 through January 14 Cost: $115 Online Only Convention (Virtual attendance only) Early Bird Registration: July 12 through December 21 Cost: $30 Regular Registration: December 22 through January 14 Cost: $35

What happens if after you register for the convention,your class proposals get accepted or you get accepted to volunteer? Contact Katiebee (@curiouskatie - registration on Discord) and she will process your refund!

To make the process more streamlined, we do ask that anyone who wants to volunteer wait to register until after they’ve been accepted as a volunteer (if possible) but it’s also perfectly fine to do it the other way around.

S - Self-Care

Does this sound familiar? “I’ve just gotten back from a wonderful vacation but now I feel sad and rundown, almost like I’m more stressed out than I was when I left.” What about “I always had fun at summer camp, but the last day was terrible! It was so sad leaving all my friends and I spent weeks afterwards feeling sad and rundown.” Or even “I had the time of my life at that convention, but now I have con crud which is even worse because I feel so sad and rundown.”

If any (or all!) of those statements resonate for you, then you might need to practice better self-care when you attend events that take you away from your normal routine. Even though it is perfectly normal to experience what we call “con drop” (feeling depressed, lost, apathetic, etc after a con) your depth of suffering can definitely be lessened by focusing on self-care practices while attending. 

Experienced con-goers recommend following the 5321 rule, which is a self-care guideline for best practices when attending a convention: for every day you attend, get 5 hours of real sleep, drink 3 liters of water, eat 2 meals of real food, and have 1 shower. 

5 Hours of Real Sleep - even though the word “sleep” is heavily associated with hypnosis, the reality is that hypnotic trance is not actual sleep, and does not provide the same benefits as actual sleep. And 5 hours is really the bare minimum – if you’re used to getting 8 hours of sleep when you’re at home, you should really try to do the same while attending Charmed!, even if that means having to prioritize sleep over fun.

Drink 3 Liters of Water - that’s about five 20 ounce bottles of water a day. And yes, that sounds like a lot of water! But a person on the go needs that hydration – the most effective “cure” for feeling rundown while at the con (assuming you’re not ill) is to drink some water. (And while there’s a whole debate possible over the benefits of plain water vs things like tea and coffee, generally speaking drinking something water based is better than drinking nothing at all.)

Eat 2 Real Meals - What qualifies as a “real meal”? Not a snack eaten on the fly. Not a handful of cookies (even if they are really delicious!) Not a stray granola bar you found in your purse or a packet of pretzels from the con suite. Only you know what kind of meals you eat when you’re at home, but in order to provide your body with the energy to make it through a long weekend of fun, you’re going to want to replicate those meals while you’re at the convention.

Have 1 Shower - For some people, the thought of taking a shower is terrible (neurospicy brains are awesome, ask me how I know), but when it comes to refreshing your body and resetting your mind for a new day or a new experience (or a good night’s sleep) taking a shower is a very useful tool. And at a convention with 200+ other people, it’s just respectful to shower daily, as well.

While helpful, the 5321 Rule can only do so much. So here are some other things that also qualify as self-care while you’re at Charmed!2024 –

Snacks!

Naps!

Hugs!

Quiet Time Alone!

Parallel Play/Existing!

Playing Board Games!

Commiserating With Other Attendees!

Communicating Clearly!

Pre-Planning Your Time!

Knowing When To Change Your Plans!

Retreating To Your Hotel Room To Have a Good Cry Because You’re Feeling Overwhelmed And You Just Need To Let It All Out!

(That last one looks like a joke, but is not a joke. Letting yourself feel things is definitely self-care.)

T - Travel

Once you’ve decided to attend Charmed!2024 you’ll want to plan your travel to Annapolis. Here are some options: 

Driving! - People who live within driving distance of Annapolis often carpool (and “within driving distance of Annapolis” can mean anything from 5 miles away to 500 miles away, depending on the people.) Some ways in previous years that people have connected with people willing to carpool are: through the “ride share” channel which will be available in the Charmed! Discord server closer to the event, via posting in our Fetlife group, and by posting (and tagging CharmedHypno) on tumblr.

Public Transportation! - Going by bus or train is a great choice for people within one or two states of the convention who don’t want to drive or fly.  Check out Amtrak, Greyhound, and FlixBus to compare services. 

Air Travel! - For people coming from farther away, air travel is the best (or only) choice. The three best airport options for people flying in for Charmed!2024 are:  BWI (Baltimore-Washington International Airport), DCA (Reagan Washington Airport), and AID (Washington Dulles Airport.) Of the three, we recommend BWI, which is the closest to Annapolis at 17-ish miles away, and is also the easiest to navigate.

 Everyone has a favorite airline; personally I tend to fly via Southwest, because I live in a hub city and two checked suitcases are included in the ticket price. Whichever airline you choose, keep in mind that the closer to the convention weekend we get the more expensive your plane tickets will be. 

Getting from the airport (or bus station or train station) to the hotel is a matter of teamwork and cooperation. There is no shuttle available to the hotel, and taking public transport, while affordable, is a lengthy process that requires 2 to 3 transfers. Charmed! recommends that attendees carpool with someone else, either with a rental car or using a service like uber or lyft. 

U - Unconference

The very first national hypnosis convention was organized around an “unconference” model, which meant that class schedules were developed in the moment during the con itself rather than from classes submitted ahead of time. While this model has been abandoned as it proved inadequate to fulfill the needs of a larger convention attending community, most of the existing hypnosis conventions celebrate it by having a time for uncon classes on their schedules. At Charmed!, we run our uncon on Sunday morning.  Uncon classes are attendee-driven/suggested classes that are chosen in a real-time environment. If there’s something you’ve always wanted to present but aren’t sure how it will work, Uncon is a great time to workshop! Class slots are usually fairly short and are chosen on the spot via attendee vote. Many a class that got formally submitted at a later con was workshopped first at an Uncon! These classes do not need to be submitted using the online class proposal form.

V - Vending

Charmed!2024 is happy to say that once again we will be offering a Vendor’s Room one night of the convention. We feature both outside vendors who will be on-site for just that night as well as attendee vendors who can choose to take advantage of that space or vend out of their personal hotel rooms, or both! Products on offer in previous years have included books (both fiction and non-fiction) written by members of the community, sex toys, and traditional hypnotic implements like pocket watches and crystals. If you are interested in vending at Charmed!2024 email us at info@charmedhypno.org with a description of your wares and our Vending Coordinator will get back to you as soon as possible.

W - What, Where, When, Why

Let’s review:

Charmed!2024, currently the largest national erotic hypnosis conference, happening in

Annapolis, Maryland on the weekend of

January 11th through 14th, 2024 in order to

provide an inclusive, welcoming environment in which attendees can pursue education, indulge in play with other, like-minded folx, and forge connections within the larger recreational erotic hypnosis community.

X - XYZPDQ

Have you ever used this handy mnemonic to quietly let someone know that their fly was unzipped? (eXamine Your Zipper Pretty Damn Quick) For the purposes of Charmed!2024, let’s consider it a metaphor for “make sure that you’re dressed appropriately for the venue” when in public spaces. At this time, we aren’t able to take over the entire hotel, and that means that attendees need to dress in vanilla-appropriate streetwear when outside of our dedicated conspace. The easiest way to accommodate this requirement is to cover your outfit with a coat or equivalent when traveling through public spaces. 

Y - Young

At a certain point, age becomes meaningless. We find ourselves a part of a unique and extraordinary community and the things we do and the games we play are not dependent on age, but rather experience and education.

With that said, Charmed!2024 is very much an adult event! All attendees need to be 18 or older, whether or not they are attending in-person or online only. Your age will be verified and anyone who is under 18 at the time of the conference will not be permitted to attend.

Z - ZZZZZZs

Sleep is your friend. Embrace naps. We believe this so much that we’re telling you twice (and not just because there aren’t that many useful words that start with “Z”.)

Part One - The ABCs of Attending Charmed! - A through M can be found HERE.

[frogblast-the-ventcore]

Can you explain the Zone of endless uprising in your Ace combat AU. I just got an idea for what to do with my DAOT scientist character.

Sure I can!

I based the idea off of some cut lines from Ace Combat 7, where in Mission 19 (Lighthouse), there were originally lines implying that the Eruseans were also using AI-controlled drone tanks, which would then start to turn on them and begin attacking everyone, civilians included.

I combined these cut lines with an earlier line about Erusea having a "strategic AI" which made decisions regarding tactical matters (choosing which of the two Arsenal Birds to vector to a given contact area). It made sense to me that if the AI systems of the drone aircraft and tanks could go rogue, so could the "strategic AI". This would then explain how both the drone aircraft AND the drone tanks would turn on the Eruseans.

As for how the AI could have turned on everyone, I basically decided to think how an AI like that might think. A series of steps.

1. Follow orders given by legitimate controlling authority.

2. Defeat hostile forces, as directed by legitimate controlling authority, as per Step 1.

3. If communication with legitimate controlling authority is impaired, continue last orders, as per Steps 1 & 2.

4. If exact composition of hostile forces is unable to be determined, preserve assets/self in order to prosecute Steps 1, 2, & 3.

So the Eruseans were the legitimate controlling authority for much the conflict, the enemy, the IUN (in-game, essentially just Osea). This it has its parameters for Steps 1 & 2.

Then the orbital debris cascade occurs in Mission 15, and communication is impaired. The AI can no longer receive orders, so it defaults to its last legitimate orders ("defeat Osea"/"win the war"; sidenote this why giving broad and vague orders to your military AI is bad). Thus it moves to step 3.

Then, the Erusean civil war begins, and the AI can no longer distinquish between legitimate authority and hostile forces nor recieve legitimate orders (the Radicals may have deliberately reprogrammed the AI, but that seems unlikely based on comments they make in certain missions). So it defaults to step 4, and turns on everyone in an attempt to fulfill the previous steps.

In keeping with the theme naming of Huginn and Muninn, I gave the other "aspects" of the AIs their own Norse mythology style names. iirc, I assigned it like this:

Odin - the name assumed by the strategic AI.

Sleipnir - the AI controlling a force of drone bombers (which Erusea was implied to already possess by the late stages of the game).

Geri - drone controlled naval vessels (not something directly supported by any evidence, but given Erusea's reliance on drones for their Air Forces and at least part of their ground forces, the idea that their navy would see the benefit of unmanned naval vessels makes sense. they probably would have been smaller gunboats and corvettes rather than anything overly large, considering that fully automating, say, a destroyer (especially one originally designed for a human crew) would be exceedingly difficult.

Freki - the aforementioned drone tanks.

As for Huginn and Muninn surrendering, that's an idea I yoinked from a SpaceBattles thread. It's clear from the Ravens behavior in Mission 20 that they are able to communicate, form plans, and such. Thus, them essentially being sapient isn't too far of a leap. My thought is that, being the most advanced versions of the AI, they could potentially have been sapient well before the AI in general turned on the Eruseans. We know Schroeder worked on the ADFX-10 (as well as Yoko Martha Inoue and Simon Cohen, from Ace Combat 3), based on a piece of official art from Project Aces. That plane was the prototype of the ADF-11F that Huginn and Muninn use as bodies. Some cut lines/fan lore (can't remember which) gives that original ADFX-10 the codename "Hempel" - a reference to Hempel's paradox (aka the raven paradox), which is all about inductive logic and intuition. That aircraft is also clearly a drone, just not as refined.

If Schroeder knew Huginn and Muninn (and perhaps Hempel as well) were sapient, he may have treated them as people (considering how he speaks of the AI in general, I don't think it's too much of a leap). Part of this would be to treat them essentially as children, which essentially they were. And to them, Schroeder would essentially be their father.

So my thought is, Huginn and Muninn, doing an analysis of all the forces arrayed against them (including virtually every AC/PW protagonist and their squadrons), decided that "nah, we'd rather be alive, thanks", and turned on their fellow AI drones, before beginning to play/"sing" a Belkan lullaby over the radio - one which Schroeder may have exposed them to (either unintentionally or intentionally). Thus signalling to Schroeder that they're fully sapient (which he may not have FULLY realized before).

[integrating-sphere]

Abstract In modern electronic design and compliance testing, immunity to electrical fast transients (EFT) is a critical performance indicator. The eft test generator serves as a standard tool to simulate such disturbances, ensuring electronic equipment can withstand operational disruptions. This paper discusses the technical principles, structural design, and test methods of the eft test generator, with a focus on the LISUN EFT61000-4 EFT Immunity Measurement product. The study elaborates on how the generator fulfills IEC61000-4-4 standard requirements, providing stable and repeatable test environments. Experimental configurations, waveform specifications, and output characteristics are presented alongside practical application scenarios in electronic testing environments. Introduction The rise of digital control systems and power electronics in today’s industry has made electromagnetic compatibility (EMC) compliance more essential than ever. Among various EMC tests, immunity to electrical fast transients (EFT), also known as burst immunity, is mandatory per international standards. EFT disturbances typically originate from switching transients such as relay contact bounce or interrupting inductive loads. The eft test generator simulates these conditions, enabling effective validation of device immunity. The LISUN EFT61000-4 EFT Test Generator is a mature solution developed to precisely meet the IEC61000-4-4 standard, providing essential support for EMS (Electromagnetic Susceptibility) testing. EFT Test Generator: Functional Overview The eft test generator is designed to create a burst of high-frequency transients with short rise times and fixed intervals. These impulses are coupled onto the power lines or signal lines of the equipment under test (EUT) to verify its resistance to disturbance. Key Functions of EFT Test Generator: Feature Description Pulse Rise Time Typically less than 5 ns Burst Duration Up to 15 ms Repetition Rate Up to 5 kHz Voltage Range From 250V to 5,000V Output Impedance 50Ω standard Coupling/Decoupling Network Integrated or external CDN as per IEC61000-4-4 Compliance with IEC61000-4-4 Standard The IEC61000-4-4 standard defines the testing methodology and waveform parameters for EFT testing. It mandates waveform shapes, duration, repetition rate, and coupling methods. The LISUN EFT61000-4 is engineered in full compliance with this standard and provides configurable parameters to allow for flexible test setups. IEC61000-4-4 Standard Burst Characteristics Parameter Requirement (Per IEC61000-4-4) Rise Time of Pulse 5 ns ±30% Pulse Duration (at 50Ω load) 50 ns ±30% Burst Duration 15 ms ±20% Burst Period 300 ms ±20% Repetition Rate 5 kHz (typical) Test Voltage Up to 5,000V Technical Principle of EFT Generation The generation of EFT involves a capacitor discharging through a fast-switching device such as a spark gap or semiconductor switch, into a standard impedance network. The key requirement is achieving extremely fast rise times and narrow pulse widths. The LISUN EFT61000-4 uses a high-voltage MOSFET-based discharge switch that ensures consistency in pulse generation. Coupled with an advanced timing controller, the generator delivers programmable bursts with high accuracy and reliability. LISUN EFT61000-4: Product Features The LISUN EFT61000-4 EFT test generator is known for its compact design and versatility. It supports various test levels and provides built-in safety mechanisms. EFT61000-4_EFT Immunity Measurement Product Specifications Model LISUN EFT61000-4 Output Voltage 250V – 5,000V (adjustable) Pulse Rise Time < 5ns Pulse Width 50ns Burst Frequency 0.1 – 5kHz Burst Duration 0.75 – 15ms Output Polarity Positive/Negative/Both Coupling Methods AC/DC power lines, signal lines via CDN Display 7-inch touchscreen with parameter presets Control Interface USB/RS232/LAN remote control Safety Features EUT overload protection, emergency stop Application Scenarios The eft test generator is widely used across multiple industries: • Household Appliance Testing – ensuring products meet EMC regulatory compliance. • Automotive Electronics – verifying ECU systems can withstand transient disturbances. • LED Driver Circuitry – validating robustness against switching noise. • Industrial Controllers – ensuring PLCs and SCADA devices remain operational under noise conditions. • Telecommunication Systems – safeguarding routers and modems from power-induced transients. Test Setup and Procedure To perform an EFT immunity test using the LISUN EFT61000-4, the following steps are taken: Test Setup: • Connect the CDN to the EUT’s power supply. • Set desired test parameters via the control panel. • Grounding and shielding according to standard layout. • Initiate the test and observe EUT performance. • Log disturbances and post-test results. Test Level Guidelines Per IEC61000-4-4, standard voltage levels are defined for different environments: Test Level Open Circuit Test Voltage Application Environment Level 1 500V Light Industrial, Residential Level 2 1,000V General Commercial Equipment Level 3 2,000V Industrial Control Systems Level 4 4,000V Harsh Industrial, Critical Systems Custom Up to 5,000V R&D and Stress Testing Advantages of LISUN EFT61000-4 System • Modular Design – easy integration into automated EMC labs. • Flexible Interfaces – remote configuration support. • Advanced Safety – overload and spark detection. • Multi-Language Support – international usability. • User-Friendly GUI – touch-screen operation for faster workflows. Conclusion The eft test generator plays a pivotal role in EMS immunity evaluation, enabling engineers to identify and mitigate susceptibility to transient disturbances. The LISUN EFT61000-4 test generator, built to the precise requirements of IEC61000-4-4, offers a highly reliable and customizable solution for commercial, industrial, and research applications. With programmable bursts, comprehensive coupling options, and robust safety features, it ensures thorough compliance testing across a broad range of electronic equipment. Read the full article

[leiditechelectonicpublishing]

🌟Plastic Encapsulated Chip High-Traffic Varistor (MOV)🌟

In more and more DOB LED lamps, plastic encapsulated chip varistors (MOVs) have been widely used to replace plug-in and stacked chip varistors. Leiditech Electronics has achieved mass production, providing customers with replacements for 5D471K, 7D471K, and 10D471K models, featuring small packages and high current capacity. Here, we particularly recommend two high-traffic MOVs in 3225 (8x6x3.

and 4232 (10.4x8x4.1) packages.

1. Comparison Between 3225/4232 and Plug-In Types

The following lists common plug-in models (05D471K, 05D471KJ, 05D561K, 07D561KJ, 05D471K, 07D471KJ, 07D561K, 07D561KJ) and their voltage-equivalent 3225/4232 package models for comparison.

As shown in the comparison table above, even when compared with through-hole packages (05D and 07D), the 3225 and 4232 packages offer superior current capabilities, with the 4232 package even reaching 3.5KA. The table only shows partial voltage parameters.

2. Performance Advantages of Leiditech 3225 and 4232

 Resistance to 300°C high temperature, avoiding virtual soldering.

 Higher surge resistance, using nano-copper technology (refer to the parameter table above).

 Good consistency.

3. Advantages of Surface Mount MOVs

 Compact size: Meets the miniaturization and lightweight design requirements of modern electronic products.

 Easy for automated production: Can be quickly and accurately installed via automated chip mounters, significantly improving production efficiency, reducing costs, and suitable for mass production.

 Reliable performance: The surface mount package structure ensures a tighter contact with the circuit board, providing good electrical connection performance and ensuring stable and reliable signal transmission.

 Good heat dissipation: The package structure of surface mount MOVs facilitates heat conduction and dissipation, quickly transferring the heat generated during resistor operation to the circuit board, which is then dissipated through the heat dissipation devices on the board.

 Low parasitic inductance and fast response speed.

 Diverse specifications: Available in various sizes and parameter specifications to meet the overvoltage protection needs of different electronic devices (examples listed above).

 High surge current capability: Some surface mount MOVs have a high surge current tolerance, effectively absorbing instantaneous high-energy pulses such as those generated by lightning strikes and electrostatic discharge, providing reliable protection for electronic devices.

4. Application Fields

Surface mount MOVs are widely used in the following fields:

1) Consumer electronics: Mobile phones, laptops, tablets, digital cameras and camcorders, game consoles.

2) Home appliances: Batteries, air conditioners, washing machines, refrigerators.

3) Industrial field: Industrial automation equipment

Leiditech Electronics also provides surface mount varistors in other packages, including 0402, 0603, 0805, 0806, 1206, 1812, 2220, 3220, 4032, and 4635.

For specific parameters, please contact Leiditech's sales team or EMC specialists.

Leiditech Electronics is committed to becoming a leading brand in electromagnetic compatibility (EMC) solutions and component supply. We offer a wide range of products, including ESD, TVS, TSS, GDT, MOV, MOSFET, Zener diodes, and inductors. With an experienced R&D team, we provide personalized customization services to deliver the highest quality EMC solutions tailored to our customers' needs.

contact Doreen sales16@leiditech.com

【Contact】 Doreen Xu

【Company】 Shanghai Leiditech Electronic Technology Co., Ltd.

【Sales Company】 HongKong Leiditech Technology Co., Ltd.

【Mobile Phone | Wechat】+86–18616228909

【Tel.】+86–21 50828806

【Email】sales16@leiditech.com

【Web】en.leiditech.com

【Web search】leiditech

【Address】2nd Floor, Building A, №518 Kangshan Road,

Kangqiao Town, Pudong New District, Shanghai, China 201315

【Advantage】Our Products have been certified by Rohs，Reach, ISO9001

Products comply with IEC61000–4–2, ISO10605, 16949, ISO763–2, ISO17650–2, GB21437–2 standard.

Reliable quality, Reasonable price, Delivery fast.

【Supply】 ESD/TVS/GDT /TSS/SKY/MOS/DIODES/MOV

#EMCsolutions#TVSProtection#InnovationInElectronics#Leiditech#TechThatProtects