
Here’s the hour long version of Mindmelter.
Tick tock, suck cock.
I’m sure I’ll be reblogging this periodically. Any girl struggling with giving up a little control when they desperately want to, should give listening to this a shot.
Here’s the hour long version of Mindmelter.
Tick tock, suck cock.
I’m sure I’ll be reblogging this periodically. Any girl struggling with giving up a little control when they desperately want to, should give listening to this a shot.
More of an old fashioned curse than a traditional hypnosis file, this file will separate the men from the sissies. This file will have no, or little, effect on most men, however some sissy types may find themselves impotent with women, lusting over guys and wearing panties. The curse cannot be removed, by me or anyone else, for reasons which will be obvious if you listen
Be a good little sissy whore and listen over and over again. That little clit never needs to be hard anyway its far too small and pitiful to pleasure a woman no matter how hard it gets. Â
Can we be friends?
Yes
The Gooninator
Click on the link above, sit back, work your clitty, and enjoy
The Gooninator
Sissy Exposure 101... a high speed recap of exposed sissies
Notice how she constantly flicks her hair and moves … she’s trying to make sure men’s eyes are on her at all times.
Good girl
I have been exposing sissies all over tumblr and need to be brought back into line. Ive been told this has to stay up untill this evening and ask the people of tumblr to teach me a lesson I deserve.
It’s still winter bimbos. Stay warm and wear a sweater.
ENSLAVE YOURSELFÂ
good girl read, and reblog. Obey.
He doesn’t need a crystal, or a spiral, or even words. You start to go under the moment you see the chair now. It beckons to you with the memories of session after session of sitting on the over sized cushion, feeling small, and helpless as he coaxed you into relaxation.  From relaxation into obedience. The act of remembering tugs at your will until you find yourself stripping down to your sexy stockings without any real understanding or reason why.  And when you sit down. The cushion seems impossibly soft. The sensation of the fabric against your bare skin feels warm and familiar, and when you think about why it feels so familiar you remember sitting, and staring, time and time again. The memory so impossible to stop or prevent.  That your eyes locked onto a watch that only exist in your mind, and your head droops to the side like a broken doll as you hypnotize yourself without even a trace of effort on his part.  He doesn’t need to do anything. You don’t need to do anything. The chair is associated with the sessions. The sessions were associated with a trance. The trance was associated with obedience. Obedience was associated with his commands and his power and the strength of his will that slowly saps your thoughts into helpless submission. It was all one long, unbroken and unbreakable chain of thoughts that bind you to him like an imaginary leash.  You spread your legs, preparing yourself for your Master’s touch. You know that he will take this time to strengthen your hypnotic anchors with more and more mindless bliss, and that you will return to him again and again for more of what you now crave. He doesn’t even need to tell you to come back again. You have accepted the programming perfectly, and your own thoughts will lure you, inescapably, back to the chair. Everyday you will come back and read these words. These words are your chair.
I don’t need words. I don’t need a spiral, or a crystal, or a watch.  All I need now is a message to me @Keev1965b stating you have enslaved yourself.