This was her life, alone in an arcade on New Year’s Eve.
Ok, there was one staff guy hanging out by the jukebox. Either he was a creep, or too shy to talk to a real-life “girl”. Of course, having just turned 18, she wasn’t a girl anymore. Anyway, she didn’t care about him. She needed to blow off some steam. Another fight with her mother had left her both physically keyed up, and mentally exhausted. She needed a challenge.
Josie wasn’t your ordinary girl. She was an arcade queen. She wasn’t just the best female player in their little town, she won almost half the tournaments when the “boys” played too. She loved showing them up. This arcade was her home away from an excruciating home. She had a strategy for every game in the place. That was, until she saw the new one.
First and foremost, it was sleek, black, shiny and smooth. Only one blood red lettering was scrawled across it: Program.
Seemed like a bland name. Every video game was a program. But it was new, and new was just what she wanted right then. She reached into her heavy coin pouch, to make sure she had at least twenty quarters in there. It shouldn’t take more than seven or eight to figure the game out. She eagerly closed on the joystick, and controls. Just two buttons. Seemed simplistic. She glanced down at the directions.
INSERT QUARTER
WATCH SCREEN
PRESS START
FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS
FOR
REWARDS
AND CONTINUED
PLAY
That’s it? Fine then, she’d play along, literally. Still doubtful she popped her quarter into the coin slot. At the same time she did the staff guy hit a button on the jukebox and Salt n’ Pepa’s “Push It’ began playing. It wasn’t a bad song, it had just been so overplayed. MTV had the video on so many times a day. Anyway, time to focus on the game.
Push push it real good.
As soon as she hit Start, the lights began. In addition to that the lights were flashing, whirling, forming spirals and shapes that dissolved into mist within minutes, only to turn into patterns, and waves and energy. Nonetheless the graphics were really great. Then the game began. Round one was still simple enough. The point was just to match colored bubbles by hitting one, then the other of the same color. Josie needed less than a minute to work out the sensitivity of the joystick, from there she was picking them off like womp rats.
Push push it real good.
Now, the bubbles had words in them. As a matter of fact, there were three on each side, still three different colors. The words though, seemed to make no sense. She tapped on a blue word on the left side that read “Obedience,” the matching one on the other side read “Pleasure.” They really had nothing to do with each other, but the combo matched and she earned more points. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been playing, but she knew she was doing well for her first quarter. She knew she was doing well.
PROCEEDING TO ROUND TWO
Push push it real good.
The next combination was “service” and “bliss,” followed by “surrender” and “orgasm.” Woah! That was naughty. She was caught by surprise, then surprised again as the screen began to flash and swirl even faster now. She really had to focus.
Push push it real good.
MATCH WORD IN COLUMN A
WITH SAME COLOR WORD
IN COLUMN B AND C
FOCUS
She looked at the first line which was simply “I.” The next columns began moving, like a slot machine, spinning quickly. She really had to focus.
The first combo was “I love sex.” She was a bit shocked, but yes, the two times she’d had sex had been great.
“Obedience is pleasure.”
What? The spirals and swirls and lights were making it so hard to focus and she really had to focus. Nevertheless, she needed to focus on the colors, the words didn’t matter.
“Service is bliss”
“I want sex.”
True, she guessed, in fact a little New Year’s nookie would have been nice.
Push push it real good.
“I am bi.”
Wow, she’d only just realized that all of a sudden.
Pus-pussy’s real good.
“I love cock.”
Yeah, cock was great in fact.
“I suck cock.”
She was just thinking also, wouldn’t some cock taste great right about now?
“I love cum.”
Suck suck it real good.
Then, she licked her lips.
“I’m a slut.”
Was she? Besides, It would be fun, wouldn’t it?
“I must obey.”
Then, she hit the sweet spot, as the dancing lights, the text, and the subliminals laced in the jukebox took complete hold. Her eyes glazed now; her mouth gaped open.
“I must obey.”
“I must obey.”
“I must obey.”
“I must obey.”
“I fuck men.”
“I fuck chicks.”
Fuck-fuck it real good.
“I must suck.”
“I must fuck.”
“I must lick.”
Lick-lick it real good.
“I must submit.”
“I must obey.”
“All holes open.”
“All are welcome.”
“Fuck me good.”
“Fuck me hard”
“Be a slut.”
Slut slut baby.
“Turn and kneel.”
“Turn and kneel.”
“Turn and kneel.”
After that, she clicked the first two lines, before the command sunk in. Next, she turned and slowly sank to her knees. While at the same time her eyes dutifully looked to the floor, it was only his shoes she saw. But she knew who he was, the staff guy from the arcade. Then he stood close, facing her.
In ‘The Hypnotist’s Cursed Mask’, a hypnosis story is told.
A man is drawn to an antique shop, where he eyes an old rubber mask.
The shopkeeper tells him it’s been cursed by a very powerful hypnotist.
He doesn’t believe in all of that superstition. But he is definitely drawn to it….
It’s a rainy afternoon, and he finds himself begrudgingly walking down the sidewalk, hearing the splashing of his shoes slapping time and time again onto the little pools of water. He’s tired, and truth be told, bored out of his mind.
It seems that lately his life had gotten into an eternal loop. Nothing new, nothing to break the monotony
Not only has he broken up with his girlfriend almost a year ago, but his current dating game leaves much to be desired. So enjoying any sex was totally out of question.
With his hands stuck in his pockets, he stares at the locals on either side of the street. He doesn’t feel an urge to return home, even though the day is overcast, and it seems to be threatening to pour down at him at any second.
Something seems to be calling to him… beckoning him closer. He deviates from his usual road back home, getting closer and closer to the slums.
The apartments surrounding him begin getting smaller until he’s only surrounded by old houses. He begins to wonder if he had ever seen this part of the city before. More puzzling still, even when he tries to find the location on his cell phone, he can’t pick up even the slightest bit of signal.
That was it for him: he can’t risk his life just because a gut feeling kept pushing him to walk further and further. He decides to turn around and begin his way back, afraid of having to make a fool of himself by asking a policeman to take him home.
But his feet didn’t seem to want to obey that command. He felt an internal pull which made him come to a complete halt. He looked to the side, and there, waiting for him to just step inside was a large, odd-looking store. He has never seen anything quite like it before, though it isn’t particularly eye-catching either. It’s one of those places people only seem to find when they are actually looking for it.
As he approaches the building, he begins to notice even further details. An inventory so diverse it doesn’t seem to fit a single store, objects which don’t not seem to have any type of connection between them.
He stops in front of the door, feeling a strong, strange pressure on the back of his neck. His heartbeat begins growing faster and faster. It’s irrational and yet completely irresistible.
Something calls him from the inside. It was creepy too: through the windows closest to the doors, he can notice odd, ancient dolls. Their dead eyes appear to look into his soul.
That’s already scary in and of itself, but there is something peculiar about them. He can feel their glassy black eyes, dark voids, watching him, almost as if they are staring at him no matter which direction they face. On the opposite wall various tarot cards are mounted in strange patterns.
“If I go inside and there’s an Elvis poster, I’m gone, I’m not bored enough to find out I’m stuck in a Stephen King novel,” he tells himself as he steps through the door.
The interior of the place does not alleviate his feeling of unreality, it is clearly an emporium, and it sells all kinds of oddities. He can see some grenades from the second world war in boxes on the back with a sign which read: “Don’t worry! they won’t explode! ( I think!)”
He wanders through the shelves, seeing piles and piles of what any normal person would say garbage, worthless junk, but something begins to rise inside him, a voice. Faint and almost imperceptible in the background of his consciousness, where the most primitive part of the human brain operates.
His hands become moist by a layer of sweat, his heart beating hard, like a rolling drum.
Although the place seems like a labyrinth, that voice guides his feet. It seems to be coming from inside his brain, yet from so far away, as if there is another version of himself stuck at the bottom of a cave.
As he searches and follows that voice blindly, the convulsion seems to grow stronger. He doesn’t notice the pair of old eyes watching him from behind a pair of ancient glasses.
“What object is he going to take?” The old timer muses to himself “how is this man going to be condemned? Each person who enters the store takes something unique, destined to change their lives, in the most varied and unique ways, and the results are not always negative… but are they truly for the better? These objects are very much so like the fairies of old, who do not share our concepts of right and wrong.”
“I wonder… What is calling to him? Perhaps one of the rings in the backroom, or perhaps one of our exquisite coins?” he whispers to himself as he runs his finger down the page of the book he was reading before the new customer walks past him at last.
“Take it, you want it” The young man walking through those long corridors hears the unnatural voice, coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time.
He finally comes to a halt in front of what appears to be a mask, made of a material which is difficult to decipher. Its entire surface is a wonderfully blue hue that, depending on the direction you look at it, flashes of different colors across its length. He extends his hand slowly, almost trembling, he begins to feel its texture on his fingertips, he can feel something stir inside of him.
“It’s cursed, I think you should know.” The old man’s voice snaps him out of his trance, turning back so he can see who’s talking to him.
“Cursed you say?” He laughs at the old man, and deep inside, he laughs at himself too, because he believes those words all too much. “There are no cursed objects, although I understand the reference, I suppose you also change shape every time a new client enters?”
The old man laughs at the reference. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe that author was inspired by me when writing that book?” He walks towards it, accommodating some of the many objects accumulated on the shelves. “After all, there has always been a store like mine, throughout history.”
He already rolls his eyes, a little tired of the mysterious old man’s routine. “Could it be… and what is the supposed curse that this object has?”
“That mask belonged to a hypnotist with strange tastes, if you are willing to listen to the advice of an eccentric old man who clearly has you bored, I would leave it and run out of this store,” the shopkeeper tells him knowing that he will not accept the offer, once you enter here there is no way you can leave without your curse
“Ah, a hypnotist, of course, what is supposed to happen to me I’m going to cluck? Don’t be ridiculous, don’t worry about sweetening the product, It’s already sold, I’m going to take it, I know where I’m going to put it” He tells him, already squeezing the mask between his fingers, with an unconscious fear that the man will try to take it away.
The owner nods, giving him what seems to be a pitying smile. “I won’t insist on it anymore, it’s clear that you’ve already made your decision.”
“That’s right, how much is it?” He asks, taking out his wallet, being careful not to let go of the mask, for no justifiable reason, he feels an irrational fear that he will take this precious item from him.
“For you, because I liked you, and I see that mask means a lot for you, I’m willing to offer you half the price” he smiles at him offering a bag, leaning in front of him, trying to take that mask from him would create a very uncomfortable moment for both of them.
Without taking a second, he pays him, putting his mask in his bag ” keep the change” he tells him without waiting for the owner to react, he leaves and starts walking through those unknown streets, without knowing why he is in such a hurry, but the further he goes from the store, the calmer he becomes, that frenzy, that irrational fear of not being able to buy it, that the old man does not want to give it to him vanishes.
“I don’t know why I got like that… it doesn’t make sense,” he says to himself out loud, feeling how the mask moves back and forth in the bag. The streets that take them to his house, become long, eternal, like an obsession, he needs to arrive and with every second that passes it becomes more and more unbearable, the bag weighs him down, and he wants to hold the mask in his hands, the bag offends him, it is a barrier between him and his destiny, although he is not fully aware of the thoughts and compulsion he begins to feel. awakening in the deepest parts of his being
Almost like a zombie, he searches for his house keys, standing in front of the door of the entrance hall of his building, the keys get stuck in his pants, he begins to pull, he begins to hear the fabric of his jean pants, even the tip of the key caught in the fabric begins to scrape and hurt the skin of his leg, but he doesn’t care, it’s like he’s in a trance, the mask pulses from his right hand, the bag in which he carried it has gone a few blocks back. The smooth, stiff texture of the mask burns the fingers of his hand with craving.
“Come on, hurry up, why are you taking so long?” His own voice tells him, inside that hole, with an echo that threatens to completely rob him of his sanity. “I’m already trying!” He answers himself with a cry full of despair.
*RRRRRRIIPPPPPP!!!* The noise of his pants giving way, the pocket completely annihilated, releases the key, which had already started to stain with the blood on his leg. “Yes!!!” he shouts without caring that some pedestrians on the sidewalk in front move away from him, scared.
“Well, you were able to open a door, do you deserve an award?” that distant but close voice tells him without a drop of mercy, he can’t tell if it’s his own voice, or if it’s the mask, or maybe he’s too aware of his own thoughts.
He opens the door of his apartment, with all his willpower, puts the mask on the counter in his living room, and gets into the shower with clothes on and everything. As the minutes go by, feeling the water running through his body, cleaning the small puncture in his own knee, he feels his mind begin to calm down. While washing his hair he feels silly, it’s clear he let that old man get into his head, there is no such thing as curses, and it’s just a good mask. He can hang it in his living room that way when he has visitors, you can use it to generate talking points.
After drying off and getting dressed in a shirt and pants from home, he is about to go cook dinner, when he passes in front of the mask, and his entire body stops there as if his legs were screwed into place. eyes fixed on it, he licks his lips, the anxiety, the temptation to touch it.
“It’s like a band-aid, take it, put it on, get it out of the system and that’s it, so you stop thinking about curses and stop talking to yourself,” He says out loud taking the mask between his fingers, turns it looking at it, seeing through his eyes, and although there is a part inside him, he tells him, he begs him to stop testing that object of the devil, but at the same time he could feel how heat was beginning to be generated in his crotch, his member slowly headed toward the biggest erection he’s ever had.
“Come on, put on the mask, stop wasting time doubting… no wonder life is going that way for you” that voice in his head, was as if he was provoking himself, trying to humiliate himself. He swallows and begins to bring himself closer to his head, each millimeter that shrinks between him and the mask, the heat in his crotch expanding more and more, his heartbeat racing, anticipating the storm.
The cold texture of the mask touches his skin, and his heart is about to explode, and he feels the scream in his mouth that is about to come out, but at first, for the first few seconds, it feels like an eternity is passing. The humiliation and shame begin to take over him now. How can he think and convince himself that something like this is actually doing something? But before he can complete that thought, the mask takes on a life of its own, sticking to his face as if trying to take the place of his skin. The first thing his hands can notice as they uselessly try to peel it off is what seemed to be a kind of rubber. And to his surprise he couldn’t differentiate the mask from his face. His eyes open, his mouth in a null expression, almost as if he were an artificial being, a mannequin.
The material of the mask continues to expand around his cranium, and begins to go down what is his neck, as it continues to expand, what was a heat, becomes a completely uncontrolled hell he cannot escape from. His mind begins to fill with ideas, of sex, of pleasure, his dick at the same time threatens to break his pants, without thinking about it, he lowers the zipper and begins to help him free it.
The rubber begins turning black, as his skin turns a shiny ebony.
“This is the only thing I am…” that voice, repeated inside him, “I am nobody, I am not a person, I am absolutely nothing” he could feel how the rubber was already beginning to cover part of his shoulders and his chest, With his hands he tears off his clothes, leaving him completely naked, his head shining. His penis was fully erect, swollen, veiny, and no doubt at risk of exploding from blood pressure.
“Horny…. HORNYYYYYY….. SO HORNY…. “he heard himself say, although his face couldn’t cry right now if it could. He would let the tears flow, it’s such an overdose of stimulation that he was rubbing his shaft.
“YOU SEE! This is the only thing that matters to you. You are basic, without depth, only looking for pleasure”. It is really difficult for him to differentiate if it is the mask or himself. Everything is confusing, and half of his body is covered by this layer of rubber, he is no longer even a person, he is only a doll, a being of pure desire, but the most exasperating thing is the fact that it is a desire without destiny, that just expands to everywhere without finding any destination, already in his mind there is no woman or even man he wants, he just looks for the explosion, the ecstasy of the moment, it’s the only thing he needs, the only thing that matters.
If his face still could change its expression, he would be surprised when he noticed how his dick grows, like a fairground balloon, a rubber sword, pointing forward, his hands moving along it, each millimeter of such a monster, completely destroying what little reason he still has left inside him. In an unbridled frenzy, he searched his drawers for a knob of lubricant, at that moment it was the only thing that mattered, he needed to be able to slide it within his hands. It’s a monster, he doesn’t think he can live much longer if he doesn’t get the ecstasy he so badly needs.
“Touch yourself… TOUCH ME…. NEEDED…. sooo horny!” the voice screams inside him the moment he manages to find the knob, and at that moment, as if he were a robot, with a single objective, lying there on his bed staring at nothing, with his hands going up and down, the sound of slick rubber on rubber, generating heat, shrieks of pleasure flooding every corner of the building. Everything begins to turn completely white and blank until the climax arrives, dragging him into the middle of an uncontrollable storm, his dick becomes a violent geyser, which he releases to everywhere, and he ends up falling asleep right there, exhausted. Confused. Until he is unconscious.
Slowly he comes out of the stupor, still feeling like his body is trapped in a some sort of thermal contradiction: his skin burns but the sweat that covers him is cold as frost. He is in his bed now. He looks over to his bedside table. The mask is sitting there innocently. He must have remembered the color wrong. It’s jet black in color now. Wow, it must have been a dream… right?
This man is about to really take full control over you. Incredibly hard to resist. He’s got a full lycra suit on with a leather jacket, pocketwatch, and a cigar. what more could he possibly have?
Tyler couldn’t remember who he used to be, what his true given name had been before entering the lab. All he could remember was what he had been taught, what had been programmed into his brain.
He knew he was meant to satisfy those in power, the higher-ups that frequently visited the facility, and honestly, he was eager to do it. Perhaps it was a result of the insatiable sexual appetite the brainwashing process has instilled in his mind, or perhaps it was the fact that he might have been a sexual creature before being kidnapped. It didn’t really matter to him
What did matter was the fact that the higher-ups didn’t come as frequently as his high libido wished they would, and so Tyler had to find a loophole to enjoy some wild, gay sex more and more often.
His methods had come to the attention of the researchers and scientists who had developed the brainwashing technique used on every single subject, and it was a cause of great concern.
“At first it didn’t alarm us that he was trying to establish sexual encounters with other subjects. It was strange since their desires usually remain dormant until a higher-up arrives, but nothing to be truly concerned about. However, when he actually managed to manipulate the other men into thinking they needed to satisfy his sexual urges, that was when things made a turn for the worse,” the scientist in charge of investigating this occurrence explained to a review board, who would decide what to do with Tyler next. “He is a good specimen: has the potential to pleasure multiple men a day and his stamina is impressive. Losing him would be a waste.”
“So what do you propose? We can’t have one of our subjects out-cunning the system,” one of the supervisors replied, clearly not pleased by the turn of events. These kinds of errors weren’t supposed to happen, not in this facility.
“Andrew’s right. What if next he begins thinking he should hurt the higher-ups to get more for himself?” William, another of the men in suits and labcoats added.
“Your concerns are valid, but it’s important to note Tyler hasn’t displayed any aggressive behaviors. We believe he can be reprogrammed, and the results analyzed to avoid this kind of accident from happening again,” the young scientist replied. He had introduced himself to the board as Luke, but he doubted any of the men in front of him remembered any longer.
There was some debate, but in the end, they agreed it was worth a shot as long as Tyler was monitored daily for at least the following six months, and all his access to higher-ups was forbidden unless great security measures were introduced.
Luke was pleased by these results. After all, not only was Tyler a good specimen, but this situation granted a unique opportunity to reevaluate the brainwashing process.
And so Tyler was taken back to the room all of the other victims only visited once, right after being placed in the facility for the first time. Naked and confused, he was strapped to a large gurney, several monitors surrounding his body, as well as odd-looking machines.
“Hello, Tyler, how are you feeling today?” Luke asked, approaching the handsome young man. Tyler was truly a looker, with broad shoulders and a muscular frame. His hair was brown and short, his eyes a bright shade of blue. Most subjects had empty stares most of the time, communicating among themselves only when necessary, but not Tyler. Tyler’s gaze looked sharp, filled with a lustful sort of determination.
“Horny as hell. I’d like to fuck someone right now… maybe you?” he suggested cheekily, and Luke promptly scribbled something on Tyler’s file.
“It’s good that you’re excited to have sex with other men, but you need to understand you’re here to please the higher-ups, not yourself,” Luke explained calmly, attaching small sensor patches over Tyler’s chest, inner legs and arms.
Of course Tyler’s cock was stiff as a board already. That was a good sign, as he had been brainwashed to get easily aroused, but paired up with everything else going on, it had to be evaluated in a different light.
“I just want to fuck, I don’t care who it is on the receiving end,” Tyler replied casually, just as Luke grabbed the bound man’s erection, making him groan loudly. “Yeah, jerk me off, fuck, that feels good!”
“I’m not going to do that,” Luke replied calmly, instead inserting the entire penis, up to Tyler’s lap, into a long tube, which would massage and stimulate the phallus during the brainwashing process, as well as collect important data. “Remember this isn’t about your pleasure. It’s never about your pleasure. You’re only here to please others. The higher ups.”
Activating a series of blinking lights and putting on black glasses specially designed to block the intense signals being bombarded at Tyler, Luke continued to calmly, soothingly repeat those words over and over again.
“You are here to bring pleasure to the higher-ups. You must not be selfish, you must not approach other subjects unless you are commanded to. You must only get hard when a higher-up walks up to you, or you are called to pleasure them,” Luke continued to speak, his voice interrupted only by the sucking noises emanating from the large tube entrapping Tyler’s cock entirely.
Tyler moaned rhythmically, trying and failing to thrust his hips up against the machine. He was strapped too tightly to do anything of the sort. That certainly didn’t stop him from trying, at least not during the first stage of the procedure.
“No, don’t thrust your hips up. This isn’t about your pleasure. You can thrust when fucking a higher-up, you can jerk off if ordered to. You can suck and get on your knees, but you must not search for pleasure from other subjects. You are submissive, you’re only here to serve others,” Luke continued to speak, repeating these sentences in certain orders, making notes on Tyler’s files, noting the reactions to every different combination.
A harder stimulation seemed to be more effective than a gentle one, he realized after a while, but it was important to avoid giving Tyler what he wanted. That meant, no orgasms until the process was over. Fortunately, the machine was calibrated to analyze the subject’s vital signals as well as the way and frequency of his cock’s twitches and throbbing motions, in order to avoid anyone lying on the gurney from cumming without authorization.
Whenever Tyler got too close to cumming, the machine slowed down and proceeded with a gentler massage to keep arousal levels high while keeping an orgasm safely out of reach.
“No! Let me cum, fuck! Let me cum!” Tyler demanded angrily the first, second, and even third time this happened.
After an hour stuck there, his cock constantly massaged, the lights continuing to blink in pre-set intervals, Tyler’s demands had turned into pleas, and that was a step in the right direction. Not enough, but certainly a good sign.
“No demands, Tyler. Demands are bad. Manipulation is bad. You’re not here to find pleasure, you’re only here to grant it. You are a living sex toy for the higher-ups,” Luke continued through his list of fundamental reminders, though he adjusted them to fit Tyler’s high libido and cunning ways. This session would be far longer than a usual brain-washing procedure, certainly the longest one he had ever conducted.
Tyler whimpered as the machine slowed down once more, his cock stimulated to the very limit only for the sucking motions to become gentler all at once. His erection and the tube it was stuck inside were both coated in what seemed like an endless supply of precum. The machine allowed Luke to know precisely how much precum Tyler was producing, and this only helped to reassure his belief that this particular subject was worth the extra effort. He was a fine specimen, one that would bring incredible pleasure to those in charge, so why let his potential go to waste just because of a little hiccup?
“What are you here for?” Luke asked as the sucking motions regained their usual rhythm and intensity. “Tell me, who do you need to please?”
“M… me?” he asked slowly, clearly confused, bewildered. He had demanded pleasure before, but now the question confused him, not certain if he was entitled to any orgasm any longer, not without being commanded to enjoy one.
“No… try again,” Luke replied calmly, increasing the frequency of the blinking lights to further Tyler’s trance. “Who are you here to please?”
“The higher-ups,” the handsome young man moaned, having stopped attempting to thrust his hips against the machine more than half an hour earlier. They were reaching the second-hour mark, a stunning record in Luke’s mind. Tyler was a magnificently determined young man, but no one was safe from the brainwashing techniques developed in this very lab.
“That’s good. And what about other subjects like you?”
“They aren’t important. Only higher-ups are important. I’ll fuck them if I’m told to, and nothing else. I’ll get hard if I’m ordered to,” Tyler replied between loud moans, his arousal so powerful, his need to cum almost impossible to resist.
“You are a sexual creature, your libido high enough to need sex at every moment but unable to satisfy those needs unless you are commanded to,” Luke reminded him, and his words were answered only by a string of loud, almost desperate sounding moans.
At the beginning of the session, Tyler had been close to smug, demanding sex, demanding pleasure, and thinking himself as important as any of the facility’s higher-ups. That wasn’t the case any longer. The man lying in front of Luke was docile and waited for the scientist to speak to him in order to talk, focusing only on the strong sensations emanating from his dick, aching for an orgasm but no longer begging for one.
“Do you want to cum?” Luke asked softly, prompting the machine’s setting to a higher level still, one he had never tried before. It was programmed specially for Tyler’s session, and as soon as it was activated, the young man seemed to tense from head to toes, panting heavily.
“Ahhhhh! Yes, yes, let me cum, let me cum!” he screamed out loud, his docile behavior snapping away. He was quivering all over, trying and failing to thrust his hips up into the air. As Luke suspected, any intense peak in his arousal levels would activate that hidden part of his consciousness all over again.
He needed to continue the brainwashing process in this state, no matter how torturous it might be for Tyler. There was no way the young man would ever reach this level of stimulation and arousal in a common setting.
“No, you don’t get to make that demand. You don’t even get to ask for it, unless you are told to beg,” Luke said patiently, scribbling a few more words onto the file. He was documenting every single reaction, and would later be able to analyze the results from the different machines attached to Tyler’s body.
For the following ten or fifteen minutes, Tyler’s demeanor continued to be far from the desirable submissiveness expected from all subjects in the facility. He tried his best to push himself to orgasm, an impossible feat while connected to this machine. Every single time he was about to reach that boiling point, the sucking motions would simply slow down over and over again. The special lights installed in the room blinked at a speed Luke had never used in any of the procedures he had conducted before.
The young scientist continued to speak, reminding Tyler of his place, of his objective in life, over and over again, with no rush, no anger. Just constant repetition, over and over and over again until his patient stopped screaming for an orgasm.
Slowly, bit by bit, Tyler seemed to grow more docile all over again, even though his body continued to quiver, his every muscle tensed almost perpetually. His dick was releasing a record amount of precum, like nothing Luke had ever witnessed before. It was all being collected for further examination, of course. For now, the hypnosis was far more important than any of that, though, and so Luke focused on Tyler’s reactions instead.
It took almost one extra hour to get back to the desired demeanor. Docile, almost dazzled with pleasure and arousal, but unable or unwilling to beg for an orgasm even if he wanted to.
“What do you want?” Luke asked, certain that the session was close to end, at long last. They had been in that room for over 3 hours, an incredible record Luke never thought one of his patients would reach.
An enemy looms on our horizon. You have been chosen to be part of our super soldier training program, where you will become our state’s key asset in the fight for our freedom. You have no choice. Your will has become the state’s will. Your body has been implanted with enhancements to make you stronger, faster, and more flexible. Your mind has been sharpened with neural implants. You are now one with us.
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The corporation could use someone like you. Someone sharp, intelligent, and useful. Of course, I’ll be molding you into something even more useful for us. I will be making you into my resourceful and obedient assistant. It’s all for the good of the company. And for me, of course. You will be implanted with mind controlling electronics to help with the brainwashing process.
Now support me on Patreon https://Patreon.com/transform
