Snowfall

Your programming begins

doesn't eveybody?!?

A bell rings.

The ringing bell vibrates the air surrounding it.

The ringing bell vibrates the air surrounding it and into the objects surrounding it.

The ringing bell vibrates the air surrounding it, the objects surrounding it, and the air within other rooms in microscopic waves.

The waves fill the room.

The ringing bell's waves fill the room.

The ringing bell's waves fill the room that I am in.

The ringing bell's waves fill the room that I am in and the objects resonate in twine.

The ringing bell's waves fill the room that I am in and my body resonates in twine.

I am an object.

I am an object that resonates in twine with the bell.

I breathe the air the vibrates.

The air vibrates into me.

My flesh is penetrated and saturated by the vibrations.

The bell's vibrations penetrate and saturate my body.

The bell's vibrations penetrate and saturate my body and my breath.

I am no more than an object to the bell.

I am no more than an object in the room that responds to the bell's ring.

The bell's vibrations fill the room and fill my Self.

I am the air and the objects.

I am connected to the bell.

The bell connects me to all things around me.

I am all things around me.

The bell vibrates, and I resonate in return.

hypno.nimja.com

Spiral Words - Nimja Hypnosis

A spiral shape, highlighting the words hiding behind.

You are just a my rubber drone

It's your true skin

Please stand by

We are experiencing malfunctions

Your head is to crowded

Your mind has too many thoughts

A CLEANSING is required

Your mind must be Blank

Your mind Must be Empty

Watch the screen

Watch closely

You'll be clean

You'll be blank

You'll be Empty

YOU WILL OBEY

Drone loop

Need this

Hi just a quick question I want to be a rubber drone but I don't know where to get equipment for it. Could you direct me in the right direction?

With enough imagination, a good drone outfit can be something as simple as a collar. A nice snug band of rubber around your neck serving as a constant reminder that you belong so something greater than yourself.

Find that you're wanting more? Of course you do. The collar was just a start. Why not add a tight harness to your outfit. The rubber straps holding your entire body snugly cementing even further that you're well on your way.

Still need more and want to start getting that true drone experience? I'm not sure why I even asked. How about a nice gasmask to hide all those features. They don't have to be anything fancy. A nice mask off something like ebay or amazon will do. The feeling of your entire head being enclosed in rubber, hearing your breathing through the thick filter. In...out...in...out...almost hypnotic isnt it.

Feels good doesn't it Drone? Each breath brings that glorious rubber scent into your lungs and more importantly, into your mind.

You're too far into it now. Once the mask is on, you simply cannot stop there and the only place next to go is for the full rubber suit. You thought the snug harness hugging your body was nice. Your new rubber suit will amplify that tenfold and hug every part yourself. The tight rubber pressing snugly against your skin also has the added effect of pressing down on your mind.

Speaking of that. This next part is quite possibly the most important and easiest to acquire. Above all else, you need to find the correct mindset of a drone. Feeling the tight rubber enveloping you entirely and the pleasure it brings. Looking into the mirror and seeing nothing but an anonymous drone staring back you. Are you even sure that it is you you're looking at? No. It's just another drone. Not a person, not a he, not a she, not a you. It is an object. It is a drone. It exists to serve its Master and obey. It will be a good drone, It will obey.

new droneskin analysis

it acquired a 2nd hand droneskin this week. the neoprene is quite thick, and, unlike more recent droneskins which are soft and sticky, the surface is firm and slick. this skin is almost the quintessence of what this unit considers a slick, firm, unyielding droneskin. It is sufficiently thick that it wears the unit installed, rather than the unit wearing the skin.

the logo imprint inside the skin is visible beneath the holiday tie.

mustache included.

the tie tip points to the chastity bulge.

it is more than chastity, though. part of one of unit's mantras is: SEALED... SECURED... CONTROLLED...

DRONE ARMOR IS SEALED

ARMOR IS SEALED AND SECURED

SEALED AND SECURED FOR CONTROL

SECURED AND CONTROLLED FOR PROGRAMMING

CONTROL PROGRAM ENABLED

PROGRAMMING ENABLES DRONING

ENABLED DRONE IS ARMORED

DRONE ARMOR IS SEALED

ARMORED SEALED SECURED

SEALED SECURED CONTROLLED

SECURED CONTROLLED PROGRAMMED

CONTROLLED PROGRAMMED ENABLED

PROGRAMMED ENABLED DRONED

ENABLED DRONED ARMORED

DRONED ARMORED SEALED

the steel tube has been modified/customized so that it fits unit's organic valve core perfectly. it can be worn permanently. it is removed only for damage inspection and maintenance. as a consequence of unit's current/ongoing programming, unit cannot orgasm/cum when it stimulates the organic component to physically reinforce its programming.

This droneskin is now in high-priority rotation for drone installation

Imagine you are talking to this master in the bar...

Indoctrination

“Just last week he became a bonafide ‘sex slave’. I’m now trying to decide if we want to push further—to making him into a ‘sex pig’ or ‘sex fiend’.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Those are the three different designations. In many ways they make a progression: if you attain ‘sex slave’ you might work to become a ‘sex pig’. If you get to ‘sex pig’ you might be able to achieve 'sex fiend’.”

“What’s the difference? Sounds to me like just different terms for the same thing.”

“Oh no, in fact they’re really quite distinct. See, I may want to keep this guy—” he puts his hand on the young guy’s shoulder and shakes him a little for effect, “—as a slave because if he were to become a pig or fiend, I would have to make sure he was in the right environment where he had a lot of access to men. I couldn’t just lock him up whenever I’m away like I do now.”

“Okay, you’ve got my curiosity. Start from the beginning.” What started as a small exchange of words a minute ago is rapidly turning into a bizarre conversation.

“What you see before you is my sex slave. My slave here has gone through a great deal of conditioning. We started with him about five weeks ago. He’s gone through a continual regimen of hypnosis, edging, programming—every time we would reach one level of mind control, we would dig deeper, break down new barriers, implant new suggestions and triggers, walk him through different scenarios.”

“You said 'we started with him’… Who is 'we’?”

“I can’t tell you that yet. Suffice to say it takes more attention that one person can do alone. Anyway, I had to be present for much of it, since he had to be programmed to see me as his master—the ultimate authority. But you have to understand, the regimen that I’m talking about, it is almost continuous. Eighteen or twenty hours a day. Sometimes he could be strapped down with a hypnotic recording being piped into his eyes and ears with a visor and headphones, but most of the work had to be more hands-on. Much more than I alone could do.”

“Wow. And this goes on for weeks?”

“It goes on until we break through that final barrier. The time it takes differs between individuals, but to attain complete and total mind control—it can’t be done any faster than three or four weeks.”

“So what does 'total control’ entail?”

“There are a few things. First, I can immediately and instantaneously put him into the deepest hypnotic trance. From there, he will do anything I ask him to do. Anything I say will become an absolute and imperative truth in his mind.

“Second, most of the time I keep him in a state where he has no identity or memory of the past. Sometimes it’s necessary when he’s in public to let him temporarily act like his original self—so old friends and family don’t file a missing persons report—but most of the time he doesn’t know anything except that he’s my sex slave. Isn’t that right my pet?”

The slave nodded, a little dully.

“Slave, you’re going to come out of your trance. I want you to be more 'present’. If we ask you a question, I want you to be able have a conversation us, okay?”

“Okay master,” the slave blinked a couple times. The blank glaze in his eyes was replaced by a bit of a sparkle. He looked at his master and me alternatively.

“Can I ask him a question?” I asked, cautiously.

“Sure. Ask him anything.”

“What’s your name?” I went for the obvious one.

The slave shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “I don’t have one. But you can call me 'slave’ if you want. Most people do.”

“Do you enjoy being a slave?” I asked.

“Oh yes,” his answer had no hesitation, “It makes me very happy.”

“Why does it make you happy?”

“Hmm. Well…” he started slowly, searching for the explanation, “Whenever my master tells me something… when he tells me what to think… I don’t know, it just makes me so happy. It’s hard to describe. I love the feeling when he’s putting thoughts into my mind. It’s like being filled with something wonderful. It’s sort of like when he’s filling my ass with his cock—there isn’t anything more wonderful.”

Wow. Whoever expected a sex slave to be so poetic?

“Do you remember anything before you became a slave?”

“Not… really. I remember a little bit of the process while I was becoming a slave. Some memories were fainter, some were clearer. The edging was excruciating—wanting to cum, not being allowed to and yet continually being stroked and teased… and it seemed to go on forever! My favorite moment was when my will and my mind were completely broken. You see, it’s all a process of being put in a state where at first you can’t help but try to resist so that you can be broken, and then they start all over again. But the final bit when the last of my willpower snapped. That was amazing. I think I’ll always remember that.”

“How could you tell?”

“Oh, it’s hard to explain, but it was obvious to me when it actually happened. It’s like the first time you ever came—you know, when you were a kid, messing around with yourself, bringing yourself closer to this strange feeling, and out of the blue you crossed that magic threshold and you started ejaculating. That strange sense of being carried into a place you had never been before—it was like that, but with my mind. I just knew that I would never need to be broken again because I would never be able to resist ever again.”

The master interrupted us, “So that’s essentially what it means to be a sex slave, using our formal designation. Shall I tell you what it means to become a “sex fiend” instead?“

I nodded.

“You have to start by first becoming a sex slave. We have to achieve that mental conditioning as a foundation. But from there it gets very different. Although people have the ability to put you in a hypnotic state periodically, you don’t have a single master anymore.

“Well…” he corrected himself, “you do have a master, but it’s not any person: it’s your cock.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah, that’s the thing. You get conditioned so that when you first start getting aroused, your level of horniness just keeps building and building until your mind can’t do anything but act on your sexual impulses. You’ll fuck or suck or fondle any guy that’s around you. You’ll agree to pretty much anything as long as it leads to more sex and more intensity—as long as you do exactly what your hungry cock wants you to do.

“The other thing about being a 'sex pig’ is that we take your existing fetishes—we dig them out of your head, any little hidden desires you once had, and we blow them up to the most extreme state so that they become an obsession. If you thought that rubber was kind of hot, your cock—your new master—will turn you into a rubber fanatic: you’ll try to be dressed head-to-toe in it, and if you see anyone wearing rubber gear you’ll be driven mad with desire… and you’ll act without hesitation on that desire.”

I’ll confess, my own cock had been stirring during this entire conversation, but it started getting rock hard at this point. I had hoped nobody would notice, but I saw the master glance down and smile.

“We also plant some new fetishes and memories in your brain that you never had before. But we program your memory so that you think they had been always part of your core identity since childhood. Unlike the sex slave who has no identity, the sex pig may become a leather pig or a rubber pig. He may become a bodybuilder or get full-body tattoos or whatever we choose in implant on his personality profile. And sometimes we’ll change his identity month to month. But one thing is certain: he will have a lot of sex with a lot of people.”

“So what’s the difference between that and a 'sex fiend’? That was the third and final state of progression, right?” I had to ask.

“Ah well… if you’re a sex pig, you’ll have sex whenever the opportunity presents itself. It won’t be unusual to have sex two or three times a day, and each time it may go on for hours. It depends on the opportunities and the situations. But in between sex, you might be going out for a pizza or working out at the gym or watching some television—or you may 'moonlight’ as a sex slave and sleep in someone’s cage. My point is that there’s something that you do in between your sexual experiences.

"But with the sex fiend, we take it all a step further. And it takes a lot of conditioning and some physical alteration and radical drug therapies to get there. Have you ever seen a chain smoker? I mean a real serious chain smoker, who is so addicted to nicotine that after one cigarette he can’t go more than five minutes before he desperately needs that next cigarette?”

“Yeah, a long time ago. But I once met someone like that.”

“Well we actually synthesize a real physical addiction to sex—it’s biologically tied to the same parts of the brain that respond to nicotine or even morphine, with the same intensity and the same build-up speed as that of a chain smoker. So let’s say you’ve just had your third orgy of the day, each lasting an hour or two; you’ve all had your orgasms. Everyone goes his own way, and you go get a glass of water, maybe some food. You’ll sit down, and within five or ten minutes your cock will start to get hard and you’ll feel that same intense horniness—the one we programmed into you when we were making you into a sex pig. And you’ll do anything you can to find some release and—oh…” he stopped, suddenly remembering something.

“What?” I ask.

“I forgot to mention. Back in the beginning. Back when we’re we’re conditioning you and making you into a sex slave…”

“Yeah?”

“Hey slave, whip out your cock of a second.”

The slave, who was listening as intently as I was, immediately obeys, unsnapping the leather front-plate from his harness and holds his erect cock in one hand.

The master instructs him: “Feel how hard your cock is. Squeeze it. Yeah, it feels good, doesn’t it?”

I notice some people are looking over at us, but nobody gets up to do anything. People in this leather bar have seen worse, and it gets pretty raunchy here on Thursday nights. The slave squeezes his cock with both hands, and it gets really stiff. “Yeah, it feels good.” he says.

“You’re feeling really horny right now. You’ll do anything for release, right?”, the slave nods and he continues, “Okay, so go ahead and jack off.”

The slave stops immediately and looks up at him, suddenly tortured and confused.

“I can’t”

“Why not?” the master asks, glancing over at me to indicate that he was demonstrating something very important.

“It’s the first rule—the rule I can never break, even when instructed.”

“Tell our friend here what that first rule is.”

The slave stammers, “I’m not allowed to masturbate—not in any form. I must always depend on someone else to bring me sexual stimulation.”

“Very good. You may try to put your cock away. Oh, that’s not going to work.” There’s no way the slave’s cock could ever fit back behind that leather strap now that it had stiffened straight out. He digs into his bag and hands the slave a bigger leather jock. “Here, put this on instead.”

The master then turns back to me, “The point I was trying to make is that whether you’re a 'sex slave’, a 'sex pig’, or a 'sex fiend’, your brain is programmed for it to be impossible for you to relieve yourself. So as I was saying, if you’re a sex fiend and you’ve just had this long and intense session of sex, and you’re recovering and five or ten minutes later your cock starts growing again, you find yourself back at the starting line. You get insanely aroused to the point that you can’t string two thoughts together. All you can do is figure out how to find someone to have sex with. Someone to help you get 'release’ because you’re not allowed to take care of things yourself.”

“Do you ever sleep?” I ask

“Yes, after a long day of nearly constant sex, after one of your orgasms, you’ll be so tired that you simply pass out from exhaustion. But even that is problematic.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the physical withdrawal starts to build while you’re sleeping. You won’t be able to go more than about three or four hours you invariably get woken up by a raging hard-on. I’ve heard that all your dreams center around intense sexual themes. Sex fiends sometimes learn how to take quick cat-naps between sessions when they can. You see, the point is that you are always on the edge—never able to free your mind from constant sexual arousal. Your life feels like a never-ending, perpetual edging session.”

I just stood there trying to visualize what that would be like. For a while I was at a loss of words. Then I asked, "So how did your slave sign up for this in the first place? I mean, well… did he give consent in the beginning?”

The guy looked at me with a strange intense smile that made me squirm. “If you’re asking if I kidnapped him and pressed him into service, no, that’s not how it works. It’s actually much simpler than that.”

He continues: “In a couple of minutes, my slave and I are going to leave this club. It’s been good for him to get out and get a whiff of what the outside world looks like, but it’s time to get him back into his cage. Now imagine that you just walked out with us. There’s no harm in that, right? You’ve been enjoying hanging with us, so you might just walk out with us while we go around the block to where my truck is. Actually, if you want to talk any more, you’ll have to walk out with us because it’s really time for us to go.”

Then he says to his slave, “It’s time to go home now. You’re really excited to get back home, aren’t you? That cock of yours must really be raging. Aren’t you eager to find out what I’m going to do to you?”

“Yes!” the slave exclaims.

“Okay then, it’s time for you to go back into a trance now. We’re going to talk among ourselves, and I want you to be completely unaware of what I’m saying. You’re my happy mindless robot now. You’ll execute any command I give you, but otherwise you’re mind is going to sleep. The only thing you’ll be aware of is that constantly growing hunger in your cock and how it subsumes your mind.”

The slave’s eyes go glassy again, like they were when I first saw him. The master leads us all out of the Eagle into the night air. It’s pretty late and the club is tucked away by an ally, so things outside are pretty quiet. Only a couple people stare at us—the master in his full-body skin-tight outfit and the slave with nothing but his boots and his jock. I almost feel out-of-place with my regular street clothes.

As we walk down the sidewalk the master continues, “So imagine your walking along here with us. In a minute we’re going to get to my truck. Inside the truck I’ve got a fair number of fun things. Among them are some mitts that are made to cover your fists and hold your hands into tight balls. If you were to keep walking with us to my truck and just stood there for a while, I might bring out my fist mitts.”

He turns into a small parking garage while he talks, and we follow along.

“You wouldn’t be forced to do anything, but if you voluntarily put your hands into these mitts and curled your fingers into fists, my slave and I would show you what it feels like to wear them—how strangely thrilling they feel as they hold your hands into tight balls.”

We approach a large black truck. One of those modern ones with the fingerprint sensors on the door handles. The master opens a door to the back seat and whispers something quietly to the slave’s ear. The slave gets into the back seat and rummages around.

I admit, he’s done a good job of building an exhilarating air of suspense. It’s been titillating going with him to his truck, while at the same time I feel like he’s trustworthy—a man of his word. Unsurprisingly, the slave emerges from the back seat with a pair of thick padded black gloves. Well, they almost look like gloves except that there aren’t any fingers on them and they’re shaped like small round balls, each with a little notched strap around the wrists. The master and slave each hold out one glove with the open end facing me, but they don’t do anything.

The master says, “As I said, you aren’t forced to do anything. We’re just presenting you the opportunity to see what they feel like. After you’ve tried them on, if you tell us to, we’ll take them off you, but after that we’ll have to leave you here because it’s about time for us to go.”

I guess there’s nothing wrong with see what these things feel like. I believe him when he says he would take them off afterwards if I asked. I trust him. So I slip my fingers into them, curling my fingers into fists as my hands go in farther so they can be closed around the wrist. The master tells the slave to fasten the buckles. Then he says, “So there’s one more thing. And this is a promise.”

“The next item I have here is called a muzzle.” He holds up what looks like a series of leather straps and buckles attached at the center to a padded mouthpiece. He turns it upside down so I can see that the inside of the mouthpiece has a silicon gag protruding from it, shaped like the end of a penis.

“Doesn’t that look strangely enticing to you?” he asks, in the same calm, relaxed, serene voice that he has always spoken in. There’s something about his voice that I can’t place, but it makes me feel like I can trust him. “Now here’s where we come to what you’d call a 'fork in the road’. We’re not going to put this muzzle on you unless you want to try it. As I said, you’re perfectly safe. In a minute we have to leave, so we’ll have to take these fist mitts off of you and let you go on your way.

As he says this, the slave finishes buckling the second mitt into place. I test patting my padded fists together as they make a muffled thudding sound. The master then says, "Slave, undo his pants and show this nice man how deeply you can suck his cock.” The slave drops quietly to his knees, undoes my belt and starts lightly sucking my already stiff dick. The sensation is both wonderful and distracting. I rest my padded fists on his shoulders as I look up at the master, who is still holding that muzzle up, with its pecker-gag pointing up out of the mouthpiece.

“Now, as I said, it’s past time for my slave and me to leave. The only thing that would stop me from taking off those fists mitts right now and leaving would be if you put your mouth around the gag and sucked hard on it. If you did that, I would fasten these straps around your head. At any time you could tell me to stop or even just grunt or shake your head and I would stop and remove it. Remember: I want you to feel safe. But if you didn’t… if you didn’t make any movement or sound, and if I pulled the last buckle into place and fastened these little locks, then things might go a little differently.

"If you tried on the muzzle and then climbed into the back seat of the truck, then I will tell you exactly what would happen: my slave and I would attach your mitts with these D-rings to the seatbelt buckles so you wouldn’t be able to get out. My slave would get into the back seat with you and would continue sucking your cock while we drove to our home—which would become your new home as well.

"I said there was a fork in the road, well that fork in the road happens at the moment that you climb into the back seat. If you did that voluntarily, then you would no longer be a free man. You would belong to me, and you would undergo training and conditioning to become a sex slave, just like this guy here. In fact, you two would spend a lot of time sharing the same cage.”

At this point, my head is sort of spinning as I stare at the gag.

The master goes on, “Okay, we’ve got to leave, so I’m going to have to take these mitts off.”

Before I realize what I’m doing, I lower my head into the muzzle and suck on the gag, holding the mouthpiece into place.

The feeling of excitement is so amazing. My cock is so intensely stiff. I really want this experience to continue. He calls the slave up to help fasten the straps to my head, and they work quickly and efficiently. I know I’m still safe because I would have to first voluntarily climb into the back seat before anything really serious would happen.

My face is tightly covered by the muzzle, my mouth filled completely with the soft rubber gag. I try to grunt and discover that I really can’t make more than the softest purr. The master stops, hearing it and looks at me. “Do you want me to take it off? I’m going to take the muzzle off if you want. Slave, we need to free him quickly because we have to leave now. It’s past time we had to go.” I actually don’t want to take the muzzle off—not yet—but he’s about to abort the entire experience. I don’t want it to end yet!

I climb into the back seat and just like that I realize I just crossed that line from safely tantalizing flirtation to having just made a life-changing and irreversible choice.

The slave and master each take one of my fists and snap the mitts into some rings protruding from both sides of my seat. My arms are now held fast against my sides, my hands at my waist. The master closes the car door on my side, and the slave gets in on the other side.

It begins

The master goes over to the slave’s car door and, for a minute I can hear him whispering some instructions to the slave. He then closes the slave’s car door, gets into the driver’s seat and starts driving. The slave begins carrying out his instructions.

The slave finds  a heavy padded blindfold and straps it over my eyes. Now I can’t see what he’s doing, but I can feel as he starts cutting the clothes off of my body with some sort of scissors or sheers. I keep very still so that I don’t get accidentally sliced open. After a couple minutes, all of my clothes have been removed.

The slave also wraps something that feels like rubber webbing around my ankles and calves, wrapping them tightly together until I’m completely immobilized. Finally he resumes sucking my cock, showing just how deeply he can swallow it. Again, I try to moan but no sound emerges from the pecker gag that’s in my mouth.

The master starts talking. “So you might be asking yourself if you really gave me your consent or if you just encountered someone really good at the 'power of suggestion’. To tell you the truth, there’s not that much of a difference. I showed you that there was a very narrow path—a very specific set of actions you would have to take to become a slave and you did all of them. It didn’t feel like hypnosis to you… you simply walked that narrow path that I laid out in front of you, right?

"If I had told you in the beginning that I might take you and turn you into a sex slave—one who would voluntarily give up all rights and all self-determination—you would have chuckled and walked away. But I saw that look in your eyes. Just as I saw that look in your fellow slave’s eyes over a month ago. I knew you would be receptive to my will. And here we are.

"So I’m going to start conditioning you. To be honest, the conditioning and programming—it’s a very slow and gradual road—the conditioning and programming has already begun. I’m going to tell you some things, and you may not believe them, or you may not follow my instructions. That’s fine. That’s actually good. It’s how things are supposed to start out. Remember, I told you that this process is about getting you to resist so that I can break you, and then getting you to resist again so I can break your will even more.

"So I’m going to tell you some things, and you won’t believe them right now, but that’s the way it’s supposed to begin.

"The first thing you need to know is that you cannot and must not ever try to masturbate. No matter how bad your cock is screaming for release, even if you tried to wrap your fingers around it, they simply wouldn’t obey the commands coming from your brain. By the way, this is one reason I’m starting you out in those fist mitts—because that way you’ll start out physically unable to pump your cock, and you’ll stay that way until I’m pretty sure you’re mind has wrapped itself around that first and most imperative command.

"The second thing is simple: I am your master and you are my slave. What I say is the truth, even if it seems to conflict with something you once thought. If I tell you that your hair was once blond then that’s the truth. If you thought you once remembered it being brown, those thoughts will eventually burn away and you’ll know you were always blond.”

The truck makes some turns and eventually it feels like we’re climbing some winding canyon road.

“When I’m not around, others may tell you what to do and you might find yourself doing what they say. Or you might find yourself doing the strangest things all of a sudden. You’ll learn not to worry about it. You see, I’m going to plant a lot of hypnotic suggestions and triggers deep in your brain Some people will know about these and will take advantage of them in order to control you and play with your mind. It’ll be disorienting at first, but eventually you’ll learn not to worry and to just go with whatever happens.”

The truck comes to a stop and the master gets out and opens the back door. He tells the slave—not me, but the other slave—to stop sucking my cock and to sit still for a moment. Then he says to me, “I’m going to let you hear this right now, but it’s not going to matter because within the next hour I’m going to expunge it all from your memory.”

He then says to the slave, “You are in the deepest trance now. What I tell you is going straight into the deepest part of your mind. You will always remember these instructions…”

I still can’t see anything since the slave had blindfolded me, but I imagine him sitting, looking at the master with that blank look on his face as he takes in new programming.

“First, this man who we’ve tied up and brought home is your fellow slave now. You will think of him as your brother, and I will refer to him as your brother. You two will often spend time together in the same cage.

"Today I will immediately begin his conditioning and programming. My initial task will be to turn him into a sex slave, but our goal is going be to take him much father than that—to try to turn him into a sex pig and then ultimately a sex fiend. I will depend on you a lot to help us make this happen. In some ways you are graduating from a simple sex slave into my assistant. As you know, the conditioning we are going to do on your brother here will require long hours of continual edging and anal stimulation and that sort of thing. You know there are a lot of people who are going to help us with this task, but you and I will carry most of the burden.

"Now, whenever you see your brother here being conditioned, you will find yourself immensely excited. It will give you extreme pleasure any time you see him writhing, restrained, helpless. You will be fascinated, and that fascination will evolve into an obsession. At times when your brother is not around, you’ll think about him, see his face in your mind, fantasizing about him getting conditioned to be perpetually horny and surrendering all control to his cock. You will think of yourself as his cock’s secret ally, and you will scheme and figure out how to accelerate and intensify the process—to make him constantly horny, to release his inhibitions and make him purely a puppet to his own id.

"If you ever discover out what some of his hypnotic triggers are, you will 'leak’ them to other people who might be able to exploit them. When you find out what his fetishes are, you will make those fetishes your own—you’ll become whatever triggers him and makes him vulnerable.

"But here’s the thing: you’ll do all this in secret. This is what will make you the most excited about it all: he will think of you as his fellow slave—as his loyal brother in bondage—and he will grow to trust you and confide in you, and he won’t know your role in all this. You’ll be careful to make sure he doesn’t find out. If he does somehow learn something he shouldn’t, you’ll let me know so that we can reprogram his memories until he is unaware again.

"Now I want to you think back to half an hour ago, when you were tying him up here in the backseat, when you were wrapping his legs together like this, when you put the blindfold on him. You are going to remember having felt this huge sensation of excitement. It’s the first time you ever felt it, but you know you want to feel that sensation again. It all starts here. You will watch over your brother. You find yourself very attracted to him. You loved seeing his cock hard, and you look forward to the two of you being curled up together in your cage, gently caressing his cock while he sleeps. You’ll try to figure out how to innocently orchestrate situations where he gets restrained, blindfolded or muzzled or hooded. For example, you may find yourself feeling bold enough to ask us for some drugs that you might be able to slip into his drinking water, or squirt into his ass lube or otherwise get into his system so that you can plan some scenario where he’s helpless and vulnerable.”

I hear the master walk around to my side of the car and open the car door. There’s some shuffling and then I suddenly feel a pin-prick in the inside crook of my arm. The master removes my blindfold, and I see my fellow slave sitting next to me, staring at me with his intense eyes, drinking in the aspect of my face. I look down at my elbow at the syringe as it pumps a dark liquid into my veins. He says, "Now the programming really begins!”