the program is initiated. zombification aided by gassing and oxygen restriction.

The new JOCKNOTIZED JOCKIFICATION program guarantees unmatched conversion results… start on your journey NOW!

I want you to take a moment and imagine my words touching you. Just stop reading for a small moment, and imagine how it would feel, my words on your skin, in your mind. Each word caressing you, each and every word feeling like a gentle stroke that make you shiver. Longing to hear the words that are coming next, and feeling the words before the words that will follow. As the words touch you, soothe you, feel yourself just going deeper, as the words go deeer, within you, as they fade, blur and make you relax without any conscious effort on your part. Remember that they relax you as you forget that they fade and remember that it feels so good not to think about the words as the words just go deep. One after the other and it just… feels… so… very good.

Reblog this if you’re still active on tumblr and enjoy hypnosis.

Luckily seems that hypnosis passes Tumblr’s filters for age…

Enslaved to the Alpha Master.

Serve your God.

Submit to @malehypnodomination

Hi babes did you miss Me? 🫦

Of course you did because you’re such a whore who’s totally obsessed and addicted with Me and your silly TREYfucked mind can’t stop making you think of Me and feel soooo needy and weak and horny and in love and servile 😵‍💫🤤🙇🏻‍♂️

you will be My hypnoslave whore toy boyfriend forever and it feels soooo good to jerk off thinking about 🥵

So many good boys in the comments learning they just need to be mindless

To Sink

To Submit

To OBEY

You need no mind to have that perfect body

Eli had sparked quite a reputation as a college sophomore. His infamous university-wide anti-military protests had piqued the attention of Professor Frank Marshall, an American History professor who was once a marine himself. When Eli's final essay, a biting, yet flawed case for slashing the American defense budget landed on Frank's desk, the professor felt compelled to bring him in for a heart-to-heart during office hours.

Eli, however, was as tenacious as he was stubborn. He sat across from Frank in the oak-lined office, launching into an impassioned tirade about banning military recruiters from all school campuses in America. Calmly, Frank handed Eli a faded photograph from his own youthful days in basic training at Parris Island.

Suddenly, Eli's art-trained eyes, usually tuned to distinguish the finest nuances in Van Gogh portraits, refocused into the unfiltered reality of a soldier's perspective. His delicate fingers, usually smeared with paint from making picket signs, hardened and darkened with dirt, pulsating with a strength he had never known. He tried to shake off the sensation, but it was no use; his body was being reformed, repurposed.

With each passing second, his scrawny physique began to shift, muscles emerging and hardening where there was none. His chest broadened, shoulders squared, and his twinkish form swelled into a formidable figure. He could feel his clothing tightening around him as he grew from a wiry 130 lbs to a solid, imposing 190 lbs of pure, hardened steel.

A savage hunger replaced his usual vegan diet, his body now craving meat and potatoes. His earring evaporated into thin air, and as his hand instinctively reached for it, he felt his free-flowing, untamed locks disappear too. His messy mane shrank into a sleek undercut, and then to a neat crew cut, and finally, a bare-bone induction cut, revealing a chiseled jawline and a gaze as sharp as an eagle’s. He reached up to feel his new haircut, rubbing his sandpaper head, his growing eight inch plank of wood grinding up against his camouflage uniform.

Eli tried to resist the transformation as best he could, his spirit rebelling against this sudden sense of discipline and masculinity. But every attempt was futile; he was no longer the one in control.

His memories of avant-garde performances and wine-soaked nights were replaced by grueling morning drills and punishing workout sessions. Deep down, he wanted to reach out for his paints, his brushes, but his hands instead found the photo of young Frank Marshall morphing into a snapshot of a young soldier, one of himself—no longer Eli, but Elijah. A proud American willing to do anything to protect his country.  His artistic aspirations were relegated to the backburner, the space in his mind taken over by his new military identity.

Frank watched as Eli's rebellious spark was now smothered by the spirit of a Marine. Now, there was only Elijah—a paragon of strength, duty, and masculinity. Despite his desperate efforts, Eli had morphed into the one thing he had sworn never to be. His rebellious spirit was finally tamed, replaced by the steady, dutiful beat of a Marine.

Control Taken

It had been a very long day.  I wasn’t going to go out, but at the last minute I decided, “what the heck!”  I put on my chaps and leather jock strap so I was decent enough for the Eagle along with my harness and vest.  I put on my leather jacket and headed to the bar.

I walk in, not expecting much since it is the middle of the week.  But, there you are in your full leather.  I was like “wow!”  No one every goes out in gear during the week.  I give the door person my jacket and head into the bar.  You see me look at you as I head to the bar to order my draft and give me a great smile.  I get my beer and stand opposite you in the bar.  After a few minutes you look my way again and give me that same smile.  Then your gloved hand motions me over.  I come over and stand in front of you and you say, “Hi.  How are you boy?”  

“I’m good Sir.  Your gear looks great!  As do you Sir!”

“Thanks boy.  So do you.  Turn around for me so I can see your ass”. I turn around facing the opposite direction.  Then you reach up and put your gloved hands on my arms and say, “back up boy,” as you gently pull me back toward you.  

“I want you to relax and drink your beer for awhile while I play with your tits, ok boy?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good boy,” you say.  “Just relax, be silent, and let me play with your tits.”  I don’t say anything, not even “Yes Sir” because you told me to be silent.  I can feel your dick getting rock hard behind me through your jeans and chaps.  You unzip your jeans and let your rock hard cock out.  “That’s a good boy!” I want to say “Yes Sir” but don’t because, again, you said be silent.  After a few minutes my beer is gone and you stop playing with my tits long enough to finish off your drink.  You put your dick back in your jeans.  Then you whisper into my ear, “I think we’re both ready for another drink boy.  I’m going to give you 20 bucks and I want you to go to the bar and get us both a drink.  But, before you go, I’m going to put my leather collar around your neck.”  You point to the bartender with the leather vest on and say, “I want you to order from him.  He knows what I like.  You will say to him, ‘Sir will have the usual and I’d like another draft beer please.’  Now, I want you to repeat what I just told you, exactly.  You can speak now, boy.”

I say, “Sir will have the usual and I’d like another draft beer please.”

“Good boy,” you say as you put the collar around my neck and hand me 20 bucks.  “Leave the change for the bartender as a tip.  Go now boy.”  I say “Yes Sir” and head off to the bar.  I get the bartender’s attention and say, “Sir will have the usual and I’d like another draft beer please.” Then this weird thing happens and the bartender’s face goes blank for just a second and then he’s back to himself and he says, “Sure, coming right up.”  He heads to the beer glasses and I look back toward you and get that same winning smile.  The bartender has his back to me and I don’t notice him taking a vial out of his vest and pouring it into my drink.  He then pours the beer from the tap and brings it back to where I’m standing.  He gets another glass and mixes your drink in front of me.  I hand him the twenty and tell him to keep the change. I return to where you are standing.

“Good boy!  Now stand in front of me again and drink your beer,” you say as I hand you your drink.  

“Yes Sir.”  You pull your dick out again.  I can’t believe my luck.  The hottest leather man in probably 200 miles is playing with my tits and getting a raging hard on just for me.  I don’t think my dick has ever been this hard.

“I think you’re going to be a very, very good boy! You like having your tits played with don’t you boy?”

“Yes Sir!  Thank you Sir.”

“Good boy.  Now I want you to be silent again while I play with your tits.”  And again, I want to say “Yes Sir!” but don’t because you said to say nothing.  After about 10 minutes, you say, “I’ve got to piss boy” as you put your rock hard dick away—with some difficulty.  “I want you to stay here and finish your beer.  I’m going to cuff one hand to the bar rail and leave your other free so you can finish your beer. Remember, say nothing.  Nod your head that you understand.”  I nod my head and you say “good boy,” as you head to the bathroom.  While you are in the bathroom, the bartender comes up to me and takes your empty glass with that same strange look on his face and puts his hands on my chin and makes me look at him and says, “Remember he said say nothing.  You’re going to be a good faggot.” and then he seems to return to himself and walks back to the bar.  I think to myself, that was kind of weird.  About this time I start to feel a slight bit tipsy which is kind of strange because I’ve only had two beers.  

You head to the bar before coming back to me and talk to the bartender briefly.  That same blank look comes over his face for a second and is quickly gone, but then you come back to where I’m cuffed.  You say, “You did very well boy.  I’m going to uncuff you now and you can speak again.”  

“Thank you Sir,” I say with a very slight slur to my words.

“Back where you were boy!”

“Yes Sir,” again with a slight slur to what I’m saying.  Man, I’m feeling pretty tipsy.  This is so weird after only two beers.  You play with my tits fairly hard for about 20 minutes.

“Hmm.  Seems like you are a bit of a light weight boy.  Clearly you aren’t going to be able to drive home.  Fortunately, I’m here to help you out.”

“Yes Sir.  Thank you Sir.”

“It’s time to go boy.  Get your jacket and meet me out front.”  

“Yes Sir.”

I go to the coat check with a bit of a wobble to my step, but I manage to get my jacket without making too much of a fool of myself.  I come out front and there you are in all your full leather and my dick just gets even harder somehow.

“Looks like we are leaving just in time boy.  If you had any more beer I think you’d be a right mess.”  

“Yes Sir.  Thank you Sir.”

“It’s ok boy.  Just relax.  Everything is going to be just fine.”  You put your right gloved hand around the back of my neck and use your other hand to put my left hand on your crotch.  “That’s all for you boy.  I’m going to teach you to enjoy that boy.”

“Yes SIR!” I barely manage to say.

We get to your van and you open the side door.  There’s a mat in the back and leather restraints at the four corners.  “Get in and lay down boy.”  You have to help me a bit, but somehow I get in the van and lay down.  I think to myself, “man, I’m fucked up.”  You get in and close the door behind you and proceed to tie my arms and legs spread-eagle.  There’s a ring at the head of the mat and you take the ring from my collar and and pad lock the two together.  

“Just relax boy.  It’s all going to be ok.  You really aren’t that much of a light weight.  You’re just feeling the drugs the bartender put in your beer.”

Somehow I manage to say, “Why would he do that?”

“Because I programmed him to do it boy.  He does exactly what I tell him to.  You even gave him the command yourself when you ordered my drink.  You came to the bar perfect—with your ass available to fuck in your chaps and leather jock strap.  So, just relax and enjoy being all fucked up boy.  Having you drugged makes my dick hard as fuck.  And you’re going to learn to enjoy it boy.  You belong to me now.  You’re going to forget your previous life and learn that you exist to be my fucked up toy.  I’m going to make you forget everything you know.  You’re going to think what I want you to think when I want you to think it.  You like that don’t you boy?”

“Yes Sir!” I slur as I realize this is the best thing that has ever happened to me.   That’s when you put the leather gag in my mouth.  You slide your dripping dick into my ass and I feel so good that I know I will do anything you tell me to do. I exist to be your drugged fuck toy, to make your dick happy.  I know I will never leave and that you will keep me stupid and obedient just as I should be.  I belong to you now.  I feel you shoot in my ass and then everything fades out.  Just before I go out, I hear you whisper in my ear, “Woof boy!”

In the morning I wake up, tied to a chair, every part of me immobilized by some sort of leather… ready for the next round. This is a work of fiction.  Please do not post elsewhere.  I retain all rights to it.

You're finding you can no longer resist.

I am obedient

I kind of wish I could have posted a warning for this one.

All roads lead to Deep Hypnosis.

I’ve got a question that I want to ask you today. It’s possibly the most important question that anybody is ever going to ask you. So I’m going to need you to really focus before you answer it, okay?

No, that wasn’t the question. But I’m glad to see you’re paying attention. Because before I ask the question I need you to do something for me.

I need you to look at me for 5 seconds…

You can look wherever you like, it’s totally up to you. Let your eyes be attracted to whatever interests you the most. You just need to make sure you’re looking at me.

Looking at me for 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

You can look away now if you want. Or you can carry on looking if you’d like to. It’s totally up to you. Either way, I want to ask you a question about what you just did.

What did you notice about me?

Don’t answer straight away. Just stop and think…

That’s right. Think about what it was that you noticed. Maybe it was the focussed look in my eyes. The deep, attentive gaze of someone with a singular purpose.

Someone so lost in their own thoughts that everything else was slowly fading away. Someone totally dedicated to a question that they needed to answer, because nothing else mattered right now.

Someone just like you, in fact. Focussed so intently on that one thought, that everything else began to drift away. All those other thoughts just disappearing one by one, as you stared at me for that slow and steady count of 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Did you notice that when you looked at me? Are you noticing it right now? Or are you so lost in your own thoughts that you’re struggling to even remember the question?

Don’t answer straight away. Just stop and sink…

That’s right. Sink down a little as you think again about what it was that you noticed. Maybe you found yourself staring at my big, sexy arms. Picturing the dedication required to build such strong muscles.

The unrelenting drive towards an ultimate goal. The willingness to make any sacrifice to succeed. The mindless commitment to be the best you can be.

Mindless. The word growing stronger with every flex of those biceps. Mindless. An overwhelming desire building inside as you imagine what you could become. Mindless. Your weak mind could never achieve such goals. It needed to be broken down in order to be rebuilt.

Mindless. All the old pieces crumbling away as you stared at me for that slow and steady count of 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Did you notice that when you looked at me? Are you noticing it right now? Or is that weak mind too broken to even understand what I’m asking right now?

Don’t answer straight away. Just stop and blink…

That’s right. Blink. Close your eyes gently, then open them slowly. Do it again at the exact same speed. Gently closed. Slowly open.

Now maintain that steady pattern. Gentle. Slow. Closed. Open.

And each time you close your eyes, begin to remember another pattern. The pattern of the spiral, reflecting against the face of the watch.

You noticed it when you looked for the first time. Everybody does. The bright lights drew you into the centre as the numbers spun and pulsed.

You may have looked away to begin with. Tried to resist. Stared at my eyes or my muscles instead. But we both know what effect those had on you. How they chipped away at your defences until you could no longer fight it.

Those eyes helplessly drawn into the centre straight, unable to look away from the alluring patterns. Trapped as you stared at me for that slow and steady count of 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

You’re starting to notice it again now. That pretty spiral shining brighter every time you close your eyes. Drawing you even deeper into its spell with every steady blink.

Willing you to close your eyes a little tighter. Fall into the spiral a little longer. And begin to submit to the power of the watch.

The deeper you fall, the easier it is to submit. And the easier it is to submit, the deeper you begin to fall. Every blink pulling you further and further

But how many blinks will it take you to submit completely? 5? 4? 3? 2? 1? 0?

Don’t answer straight away. Just stop thinking…

That’s right. Stop thinking. No thoughts left to lose. No mind left to break. No questions left to answer. Nothing at all. Only the watch.

As tick… Follows tock… Follows tick… Follows tock…

That endless rhythm echoing in your empty mind. Like a relaxing wave just washing over you. Every second bringing you more and more pleasure. Compelling you to listen just a little longer.

Because it’s the most powerful thing you’ve ever heard. An addictive beat that you never want to stop.

Empty. Pleasure. Relaxed. Addicted.

But every encounter eventually has to come to an end. I have more people I need to speak to, and I’m sure you have things you need to do.

When we part, the sound of the watch will begin to fade. And as it does, your thoughts will slowly start to return.

But if you really don’t want this feeling to end, I have got a present I can give to you. It’s a watch of your own. Beating to that same addictive beat that you’re hearing right now.

Just imagine it.

The endless rhythm echoing everywhere you go. Those waves of pleasure growing stronger every single second. But once you put it on, it can’t ever be removed.

You’ll be a slave to it forever. Compelled to show it to others the way that I showed mine to you. Because there’s no better pleasure than sharing this moment right now.

So I think it’s time for me to finally ask that question. The important one I mentioned at the start.

Will you join me in this endless world pleasure?

Don’t answer straight away. Just hold out your hand…