tevcrozier

[tevcrozier]

**Siren's Compulsion**

*Enchantment (Compulsion)*

- **Level:** 4th

- **Casting Time:** 1 action

- **Range:** 120 feet

- **Components:** V, S, M (a seashell)

- **Duration:** Concentration, up to 1 minute

You sing a haunting melody that compels those who hear it to heed the call of the depths. Choose any number of creatures within range that can hear your song. Each target must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw or be charmed by you for the duration.

While charmed in this way, the affected creature regards you as a trusted friend and believes your song leads to safety beneath the waves. At the start of each of its turns, it must use its movement to willingly approach the nearest body of water, such as a sea, ocean, or large lake, if possible, using the most direct route available.

Once the creature reaches the water's edge, it feels an irresistible urge to enter and dive beneath the surface, attempting to drown itself. The creature must make a Wisdom saving throw at the end of each of its turns while charmed. On a success, the creature shakes off the charm and realizes the danger. On a failure, the creature continues to believe in the safety of the depths and remains compelled to enter the water.

The spell ends on a creature if it succeeds on the saving throw or if it takes damage from any source.

**At Higher Levels:** When you cast this spell using a spell slot of 5th level or higher, you can target one additional creature for each slot level above 4th.

---

Being under the spell of Siren's Compulsion is a harrowing experience, akin to being caught in a waking nightmare where reason and self-preservation give way to an overwhelming allure.

At first, there's the haunting melody, echoing in your mind like a distant memory. It draws you in, filling your thoughts with a sense of familiarity and safety, as though the singer is an old friend you can trust without question. The world around you seems to fade into insignificance, replaced by the singular focus on reaching the water's edge.

Every step toward the shore feels like a necessary pilgrimage, driven by an inexplicable urge to find solace beneath the waves. The call of the ocean grows louder with each passing moment, drowning out any doubts or hesitations that might arise. It's not just a desire to be near the water—it's an instinctual need to submerge yourself, to embrace the depths as a sanctuary rather than a peril.

As you stand at the water's edge, the compulsion intensifies. The waves beckon with a hypnotic rhythm, promising safety and serenity below. Despite any rational thoughts screaming against it, you find yourself drawn to wade into the water, to surrender to the unseen force pulling you under.

The struggle within is palpable. A part of you fights desperately against the charm, trying to break free from the spell's grasp. Yet, the enchantment is relentless, clouding your judgment and distorting your perceptions. It's as if your very senses betray you, convincing you that the only path to peace lies beneath the surface, your lungs filling with water.

If you manage a brief moment of clarity—a fleeting grasp of reality—you might attempt to resist. The sheer terror of drowning, the primal fear of losing oneself in the abyss, can momentarily break through the spell's hold. But for many, that clarity is fleeting, lost again as the siren's song reasserts its irresistible pull, a calming blanket over your mind.

In those moments, under the spell's influence, you're both victim and witness to your own undoing. The ocean becomes a yawning abyss of deception and danger. Each tranquil step deeper into the water feels like an acceptance of fate, a surrender to forces beyond comprehension. To be submerged feels divine. The only true peace can be felt through releasing the air from your lungs.

[tevcrozier]

Riana being enthralled by the Maestro's metronome?

@oliversrarebooks

Metronome

masterlist

content: vampire whumper, lady whump, conditioned whumpee, body control, mind control, starvation, worked to exhaustion

“The task is simple,” the Maestro said. “Focus on the metronome and make sure your steps are on time. Don’t stop until I say so.”

That sounded easy enough. “Yes, sir.”

And it was easy. For maybe the first hour. Maybe even the second. There was a clock on the wall, but Riana dared not take a peek at it, because any distraction meant she wouldn’t be in sync with the metronome, and whenever that happened, she got a painful smack somewhere on her body with that godforsaken riding crop.

“Focus,” the Maestro would tell her. And she tried, Heaven knows she tried. But her brain wasn’t meant for such monotone repetition.

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two…

Smack.

Out of sync.

“Focus on the metronome.”

Riana was starting to feel severely dizzy.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

“Master—”

Smack.

“Silence. Focus.”

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

“Please—”

Smack.

“Focus, child.”

Riana couldn’t hear anything but the metronome. Her movements became sloppier and sloppier, the hits with the riding crop became sharper and sharper. All of her body was covered in red marks.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Please stop. Please. I can’t do it anymore.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

I’m so hungry. I’m so tired. I can’t do it. Please. Please, stop.

Riana finally tripped, but she couldn’t even hit the floor — the Maestro’s invisible strings wrapped around her body and made her continue her steps. She didn’t need to focus on counting anymore.

All she had to focus on was the metronome.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Her feet were in agony. Her mind was far gone.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

~

tags: @whumpsday @softvampirewhump

[tevcrozier]

Hello!! Here to send a 🌹 and also say I hope you've had a good day!

Hope you have a great day too anon!! <333

WIP preview #1 (ask game) 

From: The Siren (1/2) (Next >>)

It was as if those dark eyes could swallow him whole with just one look—as though long black tendrils would swirl around him and wrap around his ankles, his arms, his chest.

He could already feel them pulling him in, down to some newer, icier depth—down into whatever abyssal realms lurked in the darkness below.

And he’d follow. 

He wouldn’t struggle. 

No matter how dark the water got, how deep, or how cold—

He’d do anything to be held in that black velvet gaze for just a moment longer. 

———

(second preview of this story)

[tevcrozier]

Turn blorbo into your whumpee? No.

Turn whumpee into your blorbo.

Completely alter their appearance, from their hair color, eye color, even their height and weight should be changed to match your blorbo's. Make them unrecognizable as anybody but them.

Then, the fun part. Training them to act like blorbo. Shock collars, hypnosis, whips, or even hijacking their brain entirely, be it through magic or machinery. Beat down whatever personality they came with, and install the correct one overtop. Make them genuinely believe that they are blorbo, and that they've always been blorbo.

Now, you have your own version of blorbo, one who you can re-torture, or take care of, or train to torment others, at a much lower cost than you'd pay if you hunted down blorbo yourself. It's clearly the superior option, right?

Of course it is.

[tevcrozier]

star of the show

Writting request from @transdrowcavalier, about her character Elkantar being hypnotized by a stage magician, compelled to dance, forced to remain stiff as a board, throat fucked, and enchanted to be the hypnotists wife.

contents: cataplasy, throat fucking, identity erasure, forced to dance, mindless hypnotism

The other women compelled to rise up from the audience stayed focused on the pocketwatch he swung. Minnitra, a muscular drow woman, was his current focus. Thalorin, an elven hypnotist, was showing off his magical abilities, assisted by his enchanted pocketwatch. Sylrie, a human wizard, drooled, her advanced mind out of reach. Beside the two of them, Elkantar, the powerful drow psionic, stared fascinated at the swirling pocketwatch's swing.

“I think Minnitra is too proper for someone as silly as you, don’t you agree?” He smirked.

Her smile stayed blank and delighted. “Yes!” She giggled.

“Which means that can’t be your name,” The elf continued. “I think Minnie is perfect. Simple, sweet Minnie. None of that harshness. No need to fight anyone. You don’t care about swords or armor. All that drow piety, Lolth, none of it matters much at all. Feel it slip out of your brain. No thoughts, no fear. There’s not need to waste time on any of it. That isn’t what you like.”

Minnie’s face tightened for a moment as though trying to resist, but the hypnotist swung the watch higher, catching her eye again. Her jaw slackened. “That isn’t what I like.” She agreed.

“You like dancing. You like cleaning.” He gently traced a finger along her jawline. “You’re my silly doll, aren’t you? You’re just a stupid, bimbo toy who needs to serve your real master. Forget Lolth. Forget your house matron. It’s just me now. You don’t think. You’re a mindless little toy.”

Minnie nodded dumbly, vacant eyes blinking adoringly. 

Elkantar watched this like it was a dream. She knew, on some level, that eventually, that Thalorin would reach her. He’d play with her mind like he had Minitra- Minnie, her already entranced mind corrected. Still, she made no attempt to move. She swiftly had their attention broken once again by Thalorin speaking once more.

He was standing a bit away from his subjects, back to the audience. The pocketwatch chain dangled from his breast pocket. “I admire the resistance you put up, Minnie. Repeat after me, ladies.” He sounded so proud of himself. “I love to perform for Thalorin. I don’t know how to think for myself.”

Her tongue moved without her permission in unison with the other women, but with no resistance. “I love to perform for Thalorin. I don’t know how to think for myself.”

The audience cheered and laughed. She flushed under the attention.

“I’m glad I was able to put on a little display for you all, but now, I’m about to do something very special. When I snap my fingers.” He raised his hand in preparation. “You’ll all become my mindless, empty dollies.”

Behind Thalorin, the crowd went silent when he snapped, watching with bated breath. Any fringes of consciousness in the entranced women disappeared like a cut rope. The women stood frozen at attention, staring blankly ahead. Even Minnie’s dreamy smile disappeared. They were hollow, mindless shells. He pointed at Elkantar and gestured for her to step forward, which she did mechanically.

“What’s your name?” Thalorin cooed, moving to present the muscular drow to the audience, who cheered.

“Elkantar.” The message meant nothing to her. It passed through her empty mind. He could have told her anything and she would have responded with as much passion. He could have changed her name, like he did Minnie, could have rewritten every part of her.

“I have a special task for you, Elkantar. What a lovely name. Can we have some applause for Elkantar, everyone?”

The audience seemed to agree, cheering and clapping. She didn’t react. The elven hypnotist’s eyes glittered in the darkness. “I need you to belly dance for me, Elkantar.”

The magic lights dimmed around the other women, standing like sentries, focusing purely on Elkantar. Music seemed to emulate from thin air, but it was probably just one of Thalorin’s magical illusions. She began to move with it, letting the rhythm magically guide her body. She spun gracefully, gyrating her hips and belly. The entire time, her face was impassive. She simply moved under her master’s orders.

“Freeze.”

The word echoed through her mind. The drow stopped mid-dance, balancing only because of her martial dedication to Hexlor. She stayed as rigid as a statue. The audience ooh’d their amazement. Her enthraller began to slowly clap, approaching her slowly. She didn’t react. Nothing mattered except for the command. Her dance was forgotten. Her home was forgotten. There was just freeze.

“Let’s change the tune.” Shimmering lights dashed from his finger tips. “Elkantar. You aren’t a drow at all. You’ve been terribly mistaken. You’re a chicken. A stupid little hen, clucking around.”

The instant he said it, that’s all she knew. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her master whispering to the other hypnotized women.

She arched her back, scratching a foot at the ground. She clucked, scrambling about on stage. Her arms formed ‘wings’ flapping helplessly. The crowd cackled with laughter, which hardly registered. They did not matter. All that mattered was Thalorin’s commands.

“All right, you can stop now. That’s enough.” He chuckled softly. “Quiet down, everyone. Elkantar: stand at attention. It’s time for our next trick, let’s get set up.”

She did exactly that, taking her place where the other women used to be. For a moment, there was a flicker of realization that they were gone. Within seconds, that concern disappeared, as they emerged from the back carrying a table. They placed it center stage without expression, walking mindlessly back to stand beside her once the command was over. The audience could see the line of women staring vacantly ahead, slack and ready to receive commands.

“Thank you, ladies. Thank you. Elkantar, come lie down.”

She marched forward, doing as she was told. She laid down on the table, breasts pointed at the ceiling, staring blankly above. Elkantar dimly registered the feeling of being lighter than air as she was magically levitated, floating to be closer to the hypnotists platform. Beside him, Sylrie, the human wizard, maintained her spell, holding the drow in the air. She stared ahead without recognition, drooling slightly.

“With the help of my dear assistant Sylrie, we’ll see if Elkantar can handle being the star of the show.” The hypnotist said with a flourish. The crowd shouted and laughed as he snapped, magically releasing his belt. His pants fell to the floor at the same time as Elkantar’s fell away. The elf climbed on top of her, fucking her lifeless throat. She didn’t resist, letting herself be used like a fleshlight.

With a shuddering moan, Thalorin released, cumming on her face. The audience went wild. He lifted her stiff hand towards her own face, smiling. “Wipe it up, and lick it off, while I set up for the finale.”

She eagerly did as she was told, desperate to suck down every last piece. She was so focused on it, the drow didn’t even notice her body moving. She slowly stood up, and walked back beside the others. She did not focus on moving her legs. The spell did it for her.

“Thank you all so much for coming.” He preened under the audience’s wild cheers. “Let’s give it up for our volunteers, shall we?”

The women bowed in unison. The audience hollered for them.

“Don’t worry, anyone. I’ll let them all go on their merry ways, forgetting this whole fiasco. Unless we stumble into each other again, that is.” He winked. “Well… almost all of them. I think I’ve become a bit fond of my lovely Elkantar. But the rest of them are free to go.”

He waved a shimmering hand, and the other women rigidly marched off the stage, going back into the audience like nothing had happened. Elkantar remained by his side. He pulled her closer, rubbing a hand over her hips. He pulled her in for a kiss, and the curtain fell to the audience’s claps and jeers.

Behind stage, she grinded against him as he thrust into her, over and over.

“You love being a wife. You want to be a mother. You long to mother my children, don’t you?” Thalorin whispered. “You’re my loyal, happy wife.”

“I love being a wife.” Elkantar agreed. Her brain didn’t even try to resist her hypnotist. Everything Thalorin said to her may as well be divine truth.

Thalorin cackled, brushing some of his new wife’s hair out of her face. “That’s lovely to hear. I believe you have to fulfill a wifely duty now, this carriage is a mess. Clean it.”

[tevcrozier]

Your Name is Villain

omg I am going feral over this it gives me so many whumperflies!!! (I made a part two!! Part 2)

cw: mild restraints, mild cursing

———————————————————————

“Greetings, Hero.”

Hero couldn’t move. His limbs were tied so tightly on every inch of his body that there was no movement possible, even his head was squeezed against the back of the large leather chair.

“Fuck you.” In response Supervillain chuckled tenderly, stepping fully into the dimly lit room, allowing for the giant metal door to shut behind him.

“I’m so glad I’m finally able to use my powers on you, Hero. Aren’t you?” 

“Fuck. You.” Hero struggled against the restraints as much as he possibly could, to no avail.

Hero knew Supervillain’s power. It was the sole reason why Supervillain was so feared, why only Hero could fight him. Hero had managed to go so long without getting too close, and yet now it was all for nothing. Supervillain had gotten his hands on him, and now there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Supervillain was mere inches from him now, tall and slender, a malicious grin plastered across his face. 

Supervillain’s hands reached out toward Hero.

They were coming closer.

And closer.

Frantic pleads and wails filled the cramped room, but did nothing to cease Supervillain’s movement.

“Shhh, hush Hero. I’m not gonna hurt you, you know that.” Fat tears began to roll out of fear stricken eyes as Hero attempted to turn his head out of reach. 

Supervillain’s icy fingertips met with Hero’s temples, beginning a tender, circular rubbing motion. “Please! Please don’t! I’ll never fight you again, I won’t, I promise-”

“Hush. Don’t be so scared, Hero. I’m going to take good care of you.” Hero sobbed, a blubbering mess as Supervillain whispered sweet nothings into his ears. 

Hero grasped onto his memories. He remembered his friends, his family, his team, all of the moments that made his life enjoyable. He cherished them, attempting to block out the dire situation. 

“Hero, focus on me, darling. Focus on my smooth voice, focus on my sweet words. Focus, Hero, I know you want to.”

“No! N-no, please! No!” Supervillain paid no mind to his attempts of resisting.

“Focus on my relaxing voice. Focus on how relaxed it makes you feel. Focus on how good it makes you feel. You love it Hero, you love the feeling. You adore the relaxation, the pleasure my voice sets upon you. Just keep listening, darling.”

Hero began slipping ever so slightly. His eyes were still tied impossibly shut, but his ears were enveloped in the sound of Supervillain’s voice. He was enamored with the words spouting from his manipulative mouth.

“You’re so relaxed, aren’t you hero. So focused on my voice, so very relaxed. You feel oh so tired, you’re body oh so heavy. You feel so serene don’t you hero? So drowsy. There you go, darling.” Supervillain hummed as Hero begun to sink into the chair, his pleading slowing to silence. “You’re so relaxed, so sleepy. My voice, you’re obsessed, it’s making you so tired. So very tired, Hero. You’re sleepy aren’t you?”

“I’m… tired?” Hero’s face softened, his eyes now shut gently. 

The rubbing on his temples continued methodically, casting a pleasurable feeling enveloping Hero’s body entirely. He couldn’t help but hug into the chair, drowsiness grasping his being.

“Yes, darling, so tired, so drowsy. So docile. And yet, you’re so focused, so focused on me. How does it feel, darling?”

Hero’s mouth twisted into a genuine, enamoured smile. “It… it feels so, good…” 

Hero was so gone.

“That’s great, darling, you’re doing so good. You’re being such a good boy.”

Hero’s eyes fluttered open slightly, the weight of his drowsy lids keeping them half open. “Really…? I am?” His doe eyes were pleading with the supervillain. 

“Oh of course, darling, the best boy.” Hero’s eyes shut slowly once again, his smile still full. 

“Thank…you, Supervillain…”

“Call me sir, darling.”

Hero hesitated, his smile faltered for a moment. 

“N-no! I-um-” his muscles tensed up in dismay.

Supervillain whispered lovingly in his ear once again. “Shhhh. Relax, focus. Let the naughty thoughts go. Just listen to me. You’ve been so good, such a sweet boy.”

“Thank you sir.”

So polite.

 The hesitancy had been washed clean from Hero’s mind. The methodical motion of the rubbing on Hero’s temples continued, no sign of stopping until they were finished. It eased Hero’s brain and body.

“Darling how do you feel? You feel relaxed don’t you? So warm and delicate. So relaxed. Does it feel good darling? It does, doesn’t it? Do you like my power now?” Supervillain appeared calm, but was ecstatic under the ruse.

“Feels.. so good, sir. So good, so nice… don’t stop sir, please.” Euphoria was flooding his senses, pleasure seeping into every crevice of Hero’s being. 

“Of course not, darling. We can’t stop when you’re doing so well.” Supervillain received a soft smile in response.

He hadn’t expected Hero to have been so easy. He expected more fighting, insults, violence, yet Hero had given up the moment Supervillain had entered the room. His mental blockades were so weak, so simple. Hero was so obedient, so very eager to please. 

“Darling, do you remember what they did to you? The heroes?” Faint confusion painted across Hero’s relaxed face, with a slight shake of his head.

“Do you remember how they hurt you? How they took you from me? How they changed you, fooled your feeble mind into becoming their pet?” 

“They… they did?” Hero was open to any and all suggestions, logic no longer clouding his mind. He would believe anything that slipped Supervillain’s mouth.

“Yes, darling. Don’t you remember, when you were my successor? When I molded you? When you were a villain? When they stole you from me? And they made you an obedient little Hero?” 

Shoved deep in the back of his brain, Hero knew it was a lie. He knew Superviallin was fooling him, he knew none of his words were real. He knew they meant nothing.

Even so, in that moment, they meant everything to Hero. He couldn’t help but believe.

“Yes sir.” The words melted off of his tongue.

“You want to come back to me don’t you? To your teacher? To the only one who truly cares for you?” Even in his drowsy state Hero nodded energetically. 

In his mind, the people he had cared for so deeply all his life, the ones in the memories he had treasured, were all fake.  They meant nothing to him anymore.

Only Supervillain did.

“That’s what I’m doing darling, I’m rescuing you.” Hero leaned deeper into the tender touch of Supervillain’s thin fingers on his temples.

“Thank you, sir.”

A moment passed in approving silence.

“Darling, can you tell me your name, please?”

“It’s… my name is Hero.” Supervillain tsked, hanging his head.

“No darling, you’re real name. Not the one they gave you.” Hero eagerly scoured his head for an answer. He wanted to please Supervillain, wanted to give the correct response, but nothing came up. 

His name was Hero… wasn’t it?

“No, darling, don’t you remember? You’re name is Villain.” Hero knew he’d never heard the name in this life. Overwhelming pleasure obstructed these unwanted thoughts. “Tell me again, darling, what’s your name?”

Hero wasted no time responding. “My name is Villain, sir.” 

“Absolutely marvelous, Villain. I’m so proud of your performance today, you’ve been wonderful to work with. Such a good boy.” Hero smiled gleefully. “And we’re finally finished! How splendid. Now just let your mind go, Villain, sleep. You can unfocus, just slip away, you’ve done so well for me. Feel your body melt into the chair. Wonderful. Sleep now, Villain.”

Hero was quickly and willingly losing consciousness, cuddling comfortably closer into the chair and restraints. A small whimper escaped his scarred lips when Supervillain delicately lifted his fingers from Hero’s head. As Supervillain stepped to the door, a faint, sleepy voice stopped him.

“G’night, sir…”

Such a sweet one.

“Goodnight, Villain.”

[tevcrozier]

I raise that anon who raised you.

Vampire keeps their thrall hypnotized so they do all the chores without making a fuss and so they don't accidentally hurt themselves bruising or spilling any of their precious blood.

Whumpee breaks out of it randomly by something silly like a sneeze and comes back to hella confusing circumstances.

WOHEO Masterlist

Love this sm. Kinda mad cause I wrote all of it and then realized I was originally gonna go in a very different direction😭

cw: hypnosis, dehumanization, vampire whumper, human whumpee

———————————————————————

Nevan smiled contentedly to himself as a pile of dust flew into the pan. The broom, brittle and old scratched against the hardwood flooring of the mansion. Satisfied, he carefully poured the dust pan’s contents into a nearby trash can.

He had almost done all of the cleaning for the abode, the only room left being one of the many dedicated for storage. Nevan always felt exceedingly proud of himself for fulfilling his sanitation duties so well, even if there wasn’t much to clean when he repeated the same tasks every single day.

Darius liked his home spotless, and Nevan was more than happy to oblige to the wills of his master. Cleaning was the one thing he was notably good at, subsequently making it his sole job in Darius’ home. Besides being a food source, of course.

Transferring to the next room to be cleaned, Nevan was giddy with the thought of receiving his promised reward. 

Cleaning was his purpose, his sole job in life, so there was really no need for a reward. Yet, Darius was so kind hearted and generous, that he always promised his thrall a reward for his work. Whether it be presenting him with another place to cleanse or an extra feeding for that week, Nevan was over the moon simply with knowing he had pleased the vampire.

Nevan studied the mess he was presented with. The storage rooms were always a bit arduous to take care of, mainly due to the overwhelming clutter that had formed over centuries. 

He began with a smaller brush, sweeping the tops of boxes and junk. Before he knew it, whatever dirt inhabited the room had unsurprisingly mixed with the air, floating into and itching at his nostrils. 

He leaned his head back, readying himself for a sneeze.

Seering pain sliced through his brain as his body forcibly doubled over, almost as if splitting his head in half. Nevan clutched his head desperately, stumbling and slipping over his feet. He pulled frantically at his hair, the agony spreading to his scalp as well.

The human dropped onto sore knees, expelling a distraught whine. He panted heavily, attempting to settle himself. 

Luckily, after an endless repetition of deep, calming breaths, the pain subsided into a faint throb. Nevan groaned, rubbing at his tear prickled eyes. Out of reach thoughts danced inside his mind, too rapid to be coherent.

Holding his head in one hand, he forced open his soggy eyes. Gazing down at his own lap, confusion began to settle in.

How did-? Why was he…? Cleaning supplies?

Clutching the short broom in his hand, he noticed what was under it. “What?” He groaned, grabbing at the fabric covering his lower body. Whatever it was, it was large, frilly, and itchy, a terrible combination.

Nevan felt around, pressing his palms to the floor and pushing himself onto wobbly legs. He clung to a tall stack of cardboard boxes, his knees buckling. He took in the room, filled to the brim with piled up rubbish. 

Particularly, Nevan’s gaze landed on a long, thin mirror several feet away. He shuddered, digesting the image of the figure reflected. 

It was him. The reflection held Nevan’s eyes, Nevan’s moles, Nevan’s nose, yet they looked so different. Like a failed clone. His hair was lengthy with a healthy shine, his face and body meticulously clean shaven, and he wore a grand, luxurious dress. 

Worrying of all, were the achining wounds in his neck. Red, oozing and sore, Nevan gaped at the sight.

It couldn’t be him. Nevan didn’t do those things. He kept his hair short and easily manageable, he never gave a second thought to body and facial hair, and he sure as hell had never been very comfortable in a dress. He began grabbing at the excessive tool covering his thighs, trying to ease the irritation on his skin.

Once again, the burning sensation returned full force, tearing apart his brain in a wave of remembrance. 

Fear settled over him, a whimper catching in his throat. He was in a vampire’s home. Caught in a web of mind-bending magic, and by some miracle had broken through. His breathing quickened, short and frantic. 

What would he do? What could he do? If he got caught, there wasn’t a chance he’d ever get the opportunity to escape again. Maybe the monster would be so angry, they’d kill him.

“Nevan? Are you almost finished with your chores?” His heart stopped. Nevan lifted a trembling hand to his mouth, pushing his back against the objects behind him. “Where are you?” They called. 

Nevan slid down the boxed, landing on his bottom. Darius was close. Too close. If he tried to leave now, he would surely be caught, but the same was ensured if he didn’t.

Footsteps picked up, the clicking sound of Darius’ heels growing closer. “There you are.” Carefully, Nevan turned his head to face the beast, meeting a wicked grin. “Are you ready for your reward? I’m especially hungry today.” They said, adjusting the collar of their jacket.

Nevan let out a whimper and a snivel, alarms blaring inside his head. The vampire paused, studying him, his smile contorting into a confused frown. “What’s wrong? What did you do? You shouldn’t look like that.” 

Darius reached their hand out, taking several steps toward the human. Instinctively, Nevan hysterically crawled in the opposite direction, knocking over a pile of random contents. 

Darius met the other man’s stare, his eyes just as wide-eyed as Nevan. Slowly, as if faced with a wild animal, he descended to the floor, resting one knee to the ground. As the human continued to make a mess, Darius reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a glistening little item between two fingers.

Nevan recognized it instantly, squealing with terror as he violently shook his head. “Please! Don’t, please, I can’t-!” Ignoring the human’s pleads, Darius lightly began ringing the tiny bell in his hand. 

The ringing, no matter how light, how delicate, held a commanding, unexplainable presence. Betrayed by his own body, Nevan was unable to cover his ears as means of blocking the noise. The sound was soft, almost musical, causing Nevan’s terrified heart to flutter against his will.

“Come here, little servant.” The vampire sang. He began to lean into the constant ringing, as well as the glossy voice of his owner. “That’s right, return back to master.” Darius beckoned him over, settling onto both knees comfortably. 

The matter of his mind was melting, replaced with the weight of the bell’s authority. Lazily, the terrified shake if his body liquefying, Nevan shifted onto his hands and knees. Mesmerized by the sound licking his ears, he clumsily crawled closer, to Darius’ satisfaction.

“Good boy, almost there. Nothing is more important than the bell, isn’t that right?” The movement of the object never ceased. 

He smiled. That was right. It was Nevan’s bell, captivating and alluring. The only thing possibly more significant was Darius.

He soon reached the vampire, resting onto his knees with glazed over eyes. Darius gently placed the bell to the floor, ending the loop of hypnotic noise. He tenderly cupped Nevan’s cheek, caressing it with his thumb.

The vampire took a moment to adjust Nevan’s body, picking up limbs and turning his face as if he was searching for something. After a moment, he let out a sigh of relief. “I would’ve been very upset if you managed to lose some of your delectable blood in all that panic. Fortunate for you, it seems you didn’t.”

Nevan would’ve been utterly distraught had he made such a mistake. What a terrible thrall he was even risking it. “Now, are you ready for your reward?” He nuzzled into his master’s comforting touch.

In no other universe could he have been more ready.

[tevcrozier]

Kidnapping via possession or mind control. No witnesses, because bystanders have no idea that they're watching someone being kidnapped in broad daylight - all they see is a person walking, maybe with a slightly absent look on their face, but nothing warranting a double take. Meanwhile, the person being kidnapped can't can't call for help, can't do anything to defy whatever force is controlling them. They keep walking towards their doom, powerless to stop what's happening.

[tevcrozier]

I have good news and I have bad news:

Your friends teamed up and rescued you from the brainwashing factory you were held hostage in for three weeks

They don’t really know how to turn you back to normal so you’re just going to live with them as a dumb hypnotized doll

I’d say you decide which one is the good news and which one is the bad news, but you can’t really decide on anything anymore, can you?

[tevcrozier]

[tevcrozier]

Compelled by and unknown force, Elkantar takes to the streets in her sleep, a phenomenon that swept through the whole city where all sleepwalked in lingerie to serve their master.

Old comm I had sitting on my phone.

[tevcrozier]

Hypnovember 23: Prompt 21 "PENDULUM"

"N-no! Kobold no want to watch! No watch!!! Kobol no want t-to... to-... *sigh* Kobold-d-... *pause* kobold~~~... Kobold watch." "... Much better."

Quick one today, and as there has been a fair bit of talk of D&D, decided to draw some poor Kobold being indoctrinated into obedience. Poor thing. Hopefully the twisted trader will get a taste of their own medicine (I certainly know a few of my characters at the table who'd not stand for that!). Or knowing D&D/story telling tropes; it could all be s a ruse / snake-oil salesman routine!

Artwork & Characters © Hexit / hexitart, 2023. All Rights Reserved

[tevcrozier]

this is my new writing blog that i want to try out for my extremely specific niche, which is erotica mixing dungeons and dragons and hypnokink. the main things that really interest me to write is mind control/hypno, transformation, brainwashing, monster fucking, vampires, etc. to get started would anyone have a request a specific monster, scenario or spell they'd want see so I can fill in some content? Aboleths turning people into their puppets, sirens luring people to sea, traps that force people to mindlessly repeat the action theyre commanded too, etc. I'm taking scene requests to test the ground