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march 01, 2024 | ~17500 words
tagged: nsfw, m/m, hypnosis
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1
[posted by snakecharmed at 8:09 pm (edited)]
Language is not meant to be believed, but obeyed, and to compel obedience. “The baroness has not the slightest intention of convincing me of her sincerity; she is simply indicating that she prefers to see me pretend to agree.” – some very old tome, emphasis mine.
The difference between a wakeful alertness and a drowsy suggestibility is merely a few words spoken in a correct order, and, perhaps, accompanied by a specific cadence.
Although the spoken and written word itself naively seems a mere tool for delivering information, there is always an undercurrent of persuasion; picture a skilled orator delivering an argument to change the minds of the listeners and sway them to their side.
Picture a conversation, if you will, in which someone relays to you an anecdote, but buried inside, is a compulsion: to instill in you a sense of camaraderie, to have you relate to the events, to laugh and remain captivated. A bolded “caution” sign does not only inform you of potential risk ahead, but rather, attempt to ensure that your actions are well-measured and discerning; that is, control your behavior in some way. Within each and every statement is a directive, an implicit order to be followed.
Images and diagrams are not exempt from being persuasive tools as well; long has the trope of a screen or a billboard used for conditioning the masses into line been effective; the dull glow of a screen leading to a slack-jawed stare, the docile and pacified viewer enraptured. Although many common examples of this trope involve bright spirals and large words, it’s the concept of sleep and the subliminal that I want to talk more about.
Subliminal messaging: the theory that hidden messages buried inside the flashing lights and bright scenes could be difficult to notice, easy to consciously disregard, but have an effect on one’s thoughts by way of being absorbed by the subconscious with minimal interference. It’s easy to disagree so long as you know there’s a forum for an argument or a chance to rebel in the first place; the communication that goes unnoticed just becomes something you “thought you knew” or “heard somewhere,” without credit, lingering. How could you push back if you don’t even realize where the opening to retaliate against that thought-programming starts or ends?
It’s here I want to point out that any medium can be hijacked by these persuasive specters; phrases that remain in mind, visuals, even the classical conditioning of a scent or aroma with an idea. Or an action tied to another, the ringing of a bell connected to sitting straight up with proper posture, doing something for someone else bringing pleasure; a trained subservience. Anything can be food for thought, but, as the saying goes, “you are what you eat.” I present this information to illuminate what seems to be a sort of mind-virus hidden in plain sight, a parasitic attachment burrowing; the idea of a concept that could worm its way in your head and start to latch on, intrinsically hypnotic by nature.
You might say that “hypnosis is utter bullshit, isn’t it? It wouldn’t have a dream of working,” but where did you come up with that? Can you articulate why it seems so implausible, when every piece of information is in a constant push-and-pull to gain your agreement? It’s only an extension of active listening, bringing that receptive subconscious to the foreground, eroding all of those barriers in the way of learning exactly what you’re told. Trance seems to be a natural state to fall into: open to programming, leaving the mind’s lockbox with the lid wide open.
How is it that we’ve all come to be so vulnerable to a specific, seemingly-natural state of meditative trance, anyway? It’s curious that it seems to be target for a hook to sink into, embedded in every organic creature’s mind.
Consider a tangential fact: even creatures without brains have to sleep. One theorized idea is information uptake and processing, allowing our cognition to sift and sieve through all of those subjective experiences as parse them into something much more usable to retain. Perhaps a trance is simply tugging at the strings of sleep like a harp, putting someone into that state - where they are ready to process information, vulnerable to information, even - intentionally inducing whatever underlying process makes slumber work its magic.
Also of note is the case of sleepwalking: unaware, blissfully vacant action. Extrapolation here combined with the above leads to wondering about the extent of what someone could be made to do all while in a hazy trance, obedient to those words, acting as they’re told.
An astute reader would already have their thoughts as to aim of the post itself, and what specifically you are being persuaded of by reading this: first, that subconscious conditioning can be present in anything and everything; second, that one can be aware of it if they really look; third, that ruminating on the awareness only means it takes more room in that mind, dragging you deep.
As an exercise, just try to point out the hidden mantras cycling and permeating through whatever you consume – consciously mull them over each and every time you spot them.
Would spotting them make you more or less vulnerable?
How could you prevent the tugs of that slumber making every word drip with persuasive ichor?
How could you bend a cadence, a tone, and specific diction to your will, leaving someone falling into that state, ready for programming?
I have my answers to all of the above, but sharing them would be less interesting than showing them.
“Think this is our lead?”
“This has one-hundred percent got to be them, I’m sure of it.”
Varan leaned over with an elbow on the desk, bending, but never leaving his seat; eyeing the sleek display that was in a taloned hand, waiting until the raven finished reading the essay.
“Sure feels like their style. Good find digging this post up. Able to get any information from the poster’s account - whereabouts, habits?” Kordys asked.
The shark took the tablet back, spinning in the chair, wheeling back, running a finger on the edge to collapse it into a tube, tossing it back to the corner of his desk with a hollow bounce. “I forwarded you the physical coordinates to the machine they posted it from, and, it tricky was hell to get ‘em – but you know that’s what I do best.”
“Yep. Couldn’t do my work in the field without you.” The raven nodded, and felt the coat wrap around his back, tightening. He stood up. The thought of walking out in the drizzling rain seemed to make the office a few degrees chillier.
“Hopefully you can wrap this case up quick; it’s been a thorn in my side for too long. It’s not like they’re as dangerous as the other villains we’ve been tracking, but, with all the reports you’ve made, if they ever -did- want to be malign…”
“Exactly. There’s a worrying potential.“
Ceramic made way to his lips, lukewarm coffee doing nothing to stave off the cold that has entered unwelcome; accentuated by every single tap of rain against the glass.
“Pay them a visit soon, will you? You’re the best we’ve got in actually rounding up these types from their caves and dens.” Varan chuckled, his scaled hand reaching out and toying with the holo-trophy on the raven’s desk. His fingers glided over the inscription - they even got a real brass plate instead of a rendering of one, how thoughtful. “Detective of the Year: 3101 Finalist.“
“Give yourself some credit.“ Kordys said, already wondering what he’d soon throw himself into. “By the way, Varan. Shoot me a link to that discussion. You said there was more in the replies, right?”
“Yeah. On it.”
Boots clacked against tile, a notification buzzed in his pocket, and talons left the empty coffee cup by the sink on his way out, replaced by only a draft of air sent backwards through the office.
He immediately made plans for where to get another cup in his hand.
[posted by commentor_red (Moderator) at 8:35 pm]
Interesting post. Feels like the setup to an ARG or some serialized sci-fi story. Not sure what you’re building towards even if I liked how you wrote it. Wrong section of the forum though, maybe? There’s a section for short fiction.
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[posted by commentor_blue at 8:39 pm]
i don’t know, seems like you’d usually be right on that call, but something about the tone makes me think they totally believe it. outlandish, but i may be finding myself a little convinced. last transit from the spaceport back home had me feeling like the “trance” they describe. i blinked and i was there. wasn’t asleep, though.
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[posted by snakecharmed (Thread Starter) at 8:44 pm]
@Red: I was just having a bit of fun. Got inspired by that quote when I saw it, nothing more. Don’t think too much about it.
@Blue: Ever heard of the term “highway hypnosis?” There’s a precedent for that sensation, even if a little outdated ;)
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[posted by commentor_blue at 8:50 pm]
interesting. seems like a related thing. definitely had something similar occur
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[posted by commentor_red (Moderator) at 8:53 pm]
Going ahead and moving this. (moderator: moved thread to Fiction and Short Stories)
—
[posted by commentor_green at 8:55 pm]
Cool premise but overly wordy. I’m not really sure if writing it like an academic paper is doing you any favors, but I guess it’s unique.
Warmth turned to cold and wet turned to warmth again, now in a cafe away from the elements, coat finding itself slung over a chair. Kordys shifted in his seat so that the droplets of water didn’t catch on his formal attire, shaking slightly as if to sling every last bit of rainfall from his plumage. The afternoon had nearly turned to evening. He mulled over the strange posts, alternating making progress through the captured conversation and his half-full mug.
A little more astringent than he’d like; such was the pain of being used to doing it at home, his plastic cone brewer an old-world relic by this point. The ritual appealed to him, a sense of normalcy and routine against the wild stakes and antics of his work. Thankfully they did a good job ensuring it wasn’t as bitter as it could be, though.
A cold sensation gripped him as he reflected on the post. There was a confidence underlying those words, and a sense of… he searched for the descriptor to match. Was it perhaps protectiveness that he felt as he scanned the replies? He wanted to reach back in time, inserting himself into the stream of conversation, to say that there could be an element of truth to it, to warn them to take a slight bit of caution. If this was their target rather than a budding fiction writer, his track record would certainly give credibility to that boastful arrogance and lofty tone.
The mystery creature certainly made a name for himself, even if the name was a blank space in their dossier; an empty void between two brackets, identity never found. Everything about the case was an outlier.
The first lead - Kordys remembered how it had happened, as he was the first to document a shred of evidence. Tangential to his primary objective at the time, too. The Rustpeddlers had a shipment of unregistered plasma firearms they’d transported for sale, caught in a sting; in their own hangar, no less. He chuckled at the thought of how the internal affairs of the least competent crime syndicate were handled. His other team members had been dispatched to handle the execution of the operation, while he was given free reign and cover to move about the facility and try to get something useful.
He’d quickly found transaction logs and a clerk who sold himself to the city’s underbelly for a handsome salary compared to “clean” work. Eyes quickly stopped on an unknown loss of near six-figures of credits, all in prototype technology and machinery - and his mind raced. Rivals? Losses and destroyed goods? Cause for a potential revenge that could be halted before it happened?
Naturally, he’d grilled the shaking accountant about it, trying to get any usable figment from him… and the wolf seemed as confused as the raven was.
“This your signature on the ledger?”
“Yessir.”
“And you don’t remember a thing about it.”
“Not at all.”
“No idea who the empty recipient field could be.”
“I swear I have no recollection of this.”
“And you swear it’s not a forgery.”
“I’d know my own initials better than anyone else in the sector. That’s my own hand signing that.”
Genuine confusion plastered on his face, amused raven rolling up the ledger and taking it with him.
The origin of that blank space that had, lightly, haunted the department for a while, showing up at the strangest times without any real malicious endeavors - but all too frequent in places that no ordinary citizen could even find themselves in.
A void between two brackets, he’d entered in the system. A deliberate absence, delineated from a forgetful, careless clerical error.
[ ]
No name, and really, no chief complaint aside from a couple headscratching encounters where someone’s memory seemed to have been stripped away.
He took another sip and held the mug close to his beak, exhaling to let the rush of warm air bathe his face.
The mystery fellow hadn’t really done anything save for appearing on the transaction logs and leaving what could only be described as calling cards at a couple scenes. Occasionally they’d find a witness who seemed dazed and confused, memory scattered, doing something they couldn’t recall until mentioned; their mind was vacant, a vessel containing no liquid.
The repeated pattern left the raven intrigued, but there was no meaning to be pieced together just yet. Just isolated moments of an emptied-out head, quickly returning to what they were doing before. He’d been studious about recording everything.
He leaned back in the chair, chin high, and drained the rest of the cup, setting it on the table, gathering his things, picking it back up, and setting it in the tray to be washed soon after his departure.
[posted by snakecharmed (Thread Starter) at 8:58 pm]
@Red: I suppose it’s only fair for you to do so after that quip about it being creative writing - for clarity, I was being facetious. Would you mind taking this to direct messages?
@Green: Forgive the verbosity, I’m using to having a captive (and captivated) audience that isn’t allowed to think critically.
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[posted by commentor_red (Moderator) at 9:01 pm]
I can’t imagine too long of a discussion about the difference between fiction and non-fiction. Messages are always open though.
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[posted by commentor_red (Moderator) at 9:28 pm]
(moderator: moved thread to Non-fiction and Essays)
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[posted by commentor_green at 9:33 pm]
?
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[posted by commentor_blue at 9:36 pm]
lol, given the topic, i can think of one funny way to prove it’s in the right place. wonder why red did that.
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[posted by commentor_red (Moderator) at 9:38 pm]
It’s in the right place. No need for further discussion on the matter.
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[posted by commentor_blue at 9:41 pm]
must’ve gotten brainwashed in that half hour or something lmfao
—
[posted by snakecharmed (Thread Starter) at 9:45 pm]
Maybe. ;)
Multiple possibilities rolled through the raven’s mind as he waited at the threshold. First: the forum poster was merely a random writer that he was visiting, in which the confusion in the following conversation would be rather comedic. Or that the resident was, in fact, the blank void he’d been chasing, masquerading as that mere random writer and feigning confusion. Or that there were different people between the events he’d tied together, leading to a tidal wave of apophenia and paranoia about connections that weren’t even a lead to begin with.
A detective with one lead had their course predetermined, even if that lead was barking up the wrong tree.
The sound of metal against metal heralded an opening latch, and the door swung inwards to reveal a serpentine figure coiled at the boundary.
“Hi, can I help you?”
He withdrew his badge to reveal his documentation, a rehearsed maneuver, showing his identification and credentials.
“Good evening. Kordys, head detective for the city, here on official business.”
Their eyes never left each other’s gaze, maintaining neutrality while hunting for anything else.
“Marath. Good to meet you, Kordys,” he said with a nod, keeping his position. “Anything I can be of assistance with?”
“Just a couple questions. Mind if I come in?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t mind it at all.” the serpent said, sky-blue scales wrapped like a cloak around a bone-white underbelly. He moved to allow entry and the raven slowly walked into the apartment with measured grace. His eyes remained on the snake.
“You a writer?” he asked, breaking the silence.
The serpent’s face brightened for a second before turning to confusion. “Yeah, I’d say so! …Why?”
He retrieved the logs from his bag and laid them on the coffee table as he settled into the serpent’s couch with a lazy yawn, light-projection showing the forum’s snapshot and date of archival.
“Is this poster - ‘snakecharmed’ - you?” he asked, deadpan, making no acknowledgement of connection.
“No, certainly not. I’d never pick something so obvious as a handle.” Marath said, chuckling.
The raven’s wry grin finally escaped his discipline, spreading across his beak.
“I thought it was a fun read. Disagreed with whoever said it was verbose to a fault, the style made it feel tinged with a sort of arrogance. I can only hope it was cocky on purpose.”
“Glad you liked it. That was the intent!”
He fished in his bag for a moment and grabbed the other piece of evidence; a photograph of the ledger.
“Now then. Tracking some extra records from an illegal arms deal had this here unlabelled transfer linked to your account.”
The serpent froze for a minute as he saw it.
“Oh! Right. Yeah, that is a bit of a problem, isn’t it.”
Kordys furrowed his brow at the implicit admission, wondering just how naive he was.
“Remember about three weeks ago - that very same group of scoundrels tried to scrap with some of their rivals and there was collateral damage from someone detonating a home-made gravity bomb?” the snake asked.
The raven nodded.
“Walked the scene after.”
“Remember that entire building facade that got lopped clean off?”
“Mhmm.”
A scaled hand pointed toward the back windowed wall of the room.
“I just appropriated those funds back from them to fix it for the whole complex - I thought it was only fair they’d pay for the damages. Here, let me just…” he said, reaching over to one of the portable terminals on the table to scroll through lists and charts and notes until he found what he needed - handing it to the raven.
Kordys looked at the transaction logs, summing up the numbers, contractors, repair crew, materials, each and every entry all adding up to the exact amount associated with that blank void.
In his mind, he was already confident enough to assign the pairing: Marath, [ ] as one and the same. But something stopped him from moving the name between those empty brackets; the mannerisms felt different in some way. He’d been built up in the office chatter as some sort of villain, but the serpent certainly didn’t give off that impression this close.
“Good bookkeeping.” he said, nodding.
“Don’t worry detective, you won’t find a microcredit missing. What was taken only only went to the building. They’re not pressing the case for you to find those funds, right?”
“Funds were just a question I had. Case is about you in general though.”
“Well, consider me flattered in that case.” the serpent started, a proud grin on his face, falling flat as if embarrassed when he met the raven’s steel gaze.
Revisiting that moment of talking to the dazed clerk made the raven want to shiver. To see someone so unaware and gullible, as if there was an inkblot over the conscious part of their mind that should be alerted to something, smothered and covered up to unease; his mind lingered on it. For a while. For the entirety of talking to the snake.
The essay that the serpent wrote, the repaired wall; his concern wasn’t about the dubious morality of getting repair funds in that manner. The official process, as much as he occupationally had to stand behind it, was slow and often trampled over individuals in favor of the larger players. His concern, bordering on fear, was in how understated it was that, what was written could be real, and that minds were really that easy to shake and twist, and that both of them had a tacit understanding of it in that moment, saying nothing, agreeing to pretend that it was merely fantasy as a backdrop.
There was still the question of why the blank void kept popping up in other seedy places. He desperately wanted to ask about hypnosis, his chest racing. But he was a skeptic in the face of ghosts, and committed to his duties of scouring the haunted house.
“There’s record of you talking your way through all sorts of things after that first trick.” he started, weighing the classic scale that questioning always brought up; showing his hand and establishing rapport versus keeping knowledge and rumor concealed. Marath seemed naive. That other persona didn’t. On a whim, he opted for transparency and familiarity.
“Don’t really see a reason why any average civilian would want to get tangled up in the gun-runners’ business, but given what I now know so far, I’d almost think you just wanted to see what you could get away with.”
“Pardon me, detective?” the serpent asked, chin in his hand.
“Good of a motive as any to me. You fix up the building, feel good about it, and the taste of having someone hit with that magical compulsion sits on that forked tongue for a while. Just seeing what a charming silver tongue can lead you to, poking around somewhere people usually get forcibly shooed out from.”
Silence.
Kordys watched every breath.
Those icy-blue eyes closed for a moment with a sigh.
“I suppose.”
He waited, saying nothing; silence was one of the best tools in the arsenal for having someone spill their thoughts on the table. Let them continue on their own.
“I didn’t expect anything of the sort to actually work that fast, you know? You have an interest in it, you read about it, it sounds ridiculous - and I’d been writing some fantasy for a moment, and I thought to myself - at worst I’ll just get told to piss off. The damn wall’s blown off the building, I’m stressed, and I just go for it.”
Another long pause, raven not even tapping his talons.
“And he just has this empty look on his face, responding in short sentences whenever I prompt him, so I just, tell him he won’t remember a thing before I go. It made me intrigued, so I just started talking my way in, because there was a thrill that I wasn’t supposed to be in a place like that. Mischief.”
Neither broke eye contact.
“After that, I think I realized that whatever it was, there’s a lot of problems that come with it and a responsibility. I don’t know. I stopped even thinking about stuff like that and went right back to writing, like that essay you read.”
Kordys nodded slowly.
“Checks out. Same as we have on file.” he said.
“So what’s next, then?” the snake asked, spent, exhausted from that nearly panic-stricken explanation.
The raven’s chest raced too. He wondered why.
“Nothing.”
He blinked.
“I don’t really care about the funds, and in an off-the-record conversation, would probably pat you on the back and say ‘good for you.’ What I didn’t want was someone trying to start a cult or brainwash a political official and cause havoc.”
“That all makes sense to me.”
“You don’t really seem like the type.” Kordys said. After the words came out, he asked himself how true they even were. His general impression leaned towards it, but there was an itch in the back of his mind undermining the whole conversation.
The snake had a talent for manipulation that he admitted himself.
How could he trust any of his own thoughts and impressions?
Dwelling on it made him want to leave. He shuffled in his seat before standing up, heart noticably quick.
“If you weren’t already planning to do either of those things, don’t start now. Appreciate the cooperation, Marath. Might come back by if more questions arise or I could just send them to you for convenience.” he said, quickly jotting down contact info.
“Have a good one, detective.” the snake said behind him as the raven exited, back into the rain, overcast sky stretched overhead.
He’d felt like splashing his face in cold water after what just happened. Nothing had even gone sour, so he wondered where it came from.
“So was I right or what?”
“Great work Varan. That was the poster, no doubt. Never know how you do that but anything about networks and packets will fly over my head, so save the breath.”
“I’ll spare you the lecture then.”
“Interesting fellow. First impression is that he’s largely harmless but that’s a dangerous assumption in this line of work.”
“Hauling him in since he nabbed the credits?”
“Nah. He’s got a perfect paper trail only using it to repair something the Rustpeddlers blew up in a scuffle. Nothing to pin on him.”
“Damn, I wouldn’t have guessed that! Weren’t his calling cards and fingerprints all over the next couple trades though?”
“The blank space was, but again, no direct involvement. Like a fly on the wall telling everyone not to notice it.”
“How the hell would he even do that? They’ve been assholes about trying to root out informants and unfamiliar faces.”
“Same way as the credits.”
“You don’t believe he was telling the truth in that weird post, do you?”
“Who knows. He’s a writer. I’m not sure what’s embellished and what’s real anymore.”
“I take it there’s no immediate concern to be dealt with?”
“Nah, we’re good. Safe to halt on the cryptic stuff and get back to the usual.”
“Sounds good. We can celebrate wrapping up this weird one some time with a good meal.”
Back in his own realm, the avian kicked off his shoes, removed the jacket, undressed, and crashed on the couch with nothing but his briefs on. The day was oddly stressful and felt more exhausting than the times he’d been shot at, threatened, detained. He shook his head and filled a glass to the brim, soft carbonation as comforting as ever.
He couldn’t shake the thought from his head. He dwelled on it longer than just about any other case in recent memory, despite the low severity of it triaged against plots to level half a city block or worse.
The glass was soon empty except for the remnants of the foam head stuck to the sidewalls, and he reclined to try to puzzle out and search within himself what felt like being uprooted.
He moved with a twist, a turn, unable to get comfortable, constantly shifting position as if the grass was greener in some other configuration and contortion - face down in pillow, face up against it, on his back, on his stomach. Too hot at times, too cold at others.
Epiphany was a fitting word to describe what overcame him, something he’d always known and didn’t want to confront: the unease was rooted in the fact that he had a fear of being misled and tricked. He preferred having all of the facts. Cold objectivity. An almost judge-like impartiality cutting through personal grievances, tastes, and more.
Whether it was a sales tactic or someone’s slimy attempt at establishing credibility, cutting through bullshit was something he prided himself on; above misdirection.
The thought that there was a nearly supernatural power to strip that away… he turned and tossed again. Faculty of judgement separated from the mind. Skepticism suppressed. Unable to disagree, to argue. The word “unquestioning.”
It formed a pit in his stomach to think that it existed at all. Every word to describe that power was decidedly negative. Abnormality. Aberration. Unnatural.
But, of course, in the essence of the cool rationality he cherished, he took a deep breath and attempted to quell the kneejerk overreaction. It was lashing out against a fear of vulnerability and the fact that anything could challenge his self-reliance.
The mere fact that something like that existed, in a sense, felt like a threat to his identity.
He felt flush in his face, glass emptied again, somewhere between a blush and the confusion of a quiet night, thinking about the shark’s mention of getting a good meal when they’d celebrate.
The raven’s face turned even more red and he shifted over to his back, knowing what was going to happen.
Celebratory dinners with Varan. They had taken a relaxing night to fool around as a victory lap when they’d tackled another high profile assignment – and gotten a little hot and bothered in the immediate aftermath. A few comments and jokes turned into the blooming idea they’d been eyeing each other. They were loud and raucous - in the shark’s apartment, a whirlwind ending up there - after the celebration, finding each other in a giant pile, bodies pressed together.
Kordys just sighed as his briefs shifted in profile, accommodating a new protrusion as he wistfully fantasized about what the next celebration dinner could entail. Hell, they’d even both joked about making it a routine when solving a case. His hand gently brushed its feathers against the fabric.
“I wouldn’t have guessed!” the larger one said, leather clicking around the soft feathers, clasp shut.
He stirred and groaned just reliving that exact moment.
“With how much of a hardass you are, this is certainly a change.”
He’d blushed as soon as the leash pulled him forward, on his knees and staring up with wide eyes and a needy grin on his face.
By this point he was actively teasing himself through the briefs, feeling as if the room had suddenly become hot and stuffy, on the verge of overheating, sweltering, and panting.
The inversion of control had really done him in. At that moment, when he was kneeling in front of Varan, stripped down, cock aching with need, it awakened in him. A small drip of precum had spread through to the front of the briefs, smearing it, discoloring that patch on the front. First time he’d ever been submissive or engaged like that at all.
If anything, he was used to leading, wrangling control out of the most unwieldy situations, being a strong presence to dispatch others, and - he throbbed - god, why did it leave him so turned on to suddenly do the opposite?
What would it feel like to have control stripped away by that hypnotic stupor like the clerk?
The thought made him let out a soft sigh, turning, finally unearthing the source of that fluttering chest, the awkward feeling and need to remove himself from the apartment.
Of course.
He rolled over.
The snake was pretty damn cute.
Such a dumb fantasy to imagine getting put under, being one of those guards that he walked through to get somewhere else, just listening to those hissing words.
He’d never let someone naive like that have an ounce of control over him. The instinct to press back and assert a grip on the situation would be too strong, right?
Kordys thought about the essay again, dripping by this point, fuck - it was too hot, he needed to sit somewhere else or turn the fan on or something.
He hated being tricked. He hated being misled. He hated being taken advantage of. So, despite all that, why was it so damn horny to think about having those cognitive defenses whittled down and smudged out?
Everything about it felt wrong and backwards to him, to allow himself to sink into that compliant state of bliss and unaware… obedience that he’d seen in that clerk. For heaven’s sake, even his memory got twisted around!
He throbbed again.
Surely the snake wouldn’t feel the same way. He lucked out with Varan having a leash and a collar at his place and accidentally spilling it out of a drawer looking for the game controllers. That couldn’t happen twice; it felt like a lazy porn plot the first time.
Marath clearly didn’t even understand how his power worked in the first place! He tried it like two or three times and gave it up just to go write, anyway. Maybe it was luck. Maybe it wasn’t even real. God, he sure knew a lot about it, though. That essay.
Kordys grabbed his phone and sent a quick message out.
“Got a quick question. Mind if I come ask it tomorrow?”
He hit send and realized the clock was near midnight. His hand hit his forehead before slowly sliding down, across his beak, and lazily off.
No longer erect and trapped in a haze, he shook his head, considered it all a debt to be repaid tomorrow morning, and got ready to sleep with a warm shower.
“Sure thing, come by any time. Happy to help with the investigation.”
✓✓ (Read by Kordys, 4h)
2
He awoke with the ringing of an alarm, a headache, and a looming sense of dread. Checking his phone cemented the reason for the last two. Nothing pressing was on his daily agenda, so Kordys rolled out of bed, got half-dressed, and went to his usual routine and first order of business: kettle on, brewer arranged, ready for the sweet embrace of a warm cup of coffee or three.
There was a consideration to send a follow-up message and state that it was all internal affairs and bookkeeping that had been resolved, but he felt determined to see the course of action he chose through to the end, even if it felt purely ridiculous in his current state. He wondered about the practicality and method of it, insatiable fever of arousal behind him. The carafe was full, and he filled his mug.
It was a concrete fact that a couple of guys had gotten zonked out and done the snake’s bidding. Realistically, would be have any recourse if Marath was to, say, ask him to divulge secrets or hand over his official devices? There wasn’t really prior work about this stuff. He refilled the mug.
Questions ruminated in his mind and he figured that worst comes to worst, he could at least set up a contingency.
“Gonna go interview the snake a bit more today.” he sent to Varan.
Another sip of coffee before it buzzed.
“Don’t go get brainwashed! If you come back talking all funny and dazed, I’ll know what happened. Although seeing you act like a drooling zombie could be hilarious.”
He blushed and set the phone down - face down - on the table, looking for something to bear the subject of his immediate grumbling.
Those talons picked it right back up after a couple seconds.
“Exactly why I’m warning ya, we’ve been at this enough you could tell if something happened.”
It was comforting to know the shark had his back and he could only smile, relieved, and look forward to what sort of ridiculous shenanigans were about to happen. It’d be good to get to cut loose a bit - maybe there was a grain of truth in the fact that everyone considered him too dry.
He’d finished getting dressed, choosing something on the casual side, and moved right back to the couch, sitting more proper, and started browsing the web. Diving into online accounts of hypnosis, he was rather quickly allured into the erotic side; seeing all sorts of talk as if people had their willpower stripped from them, behaving in new ways, led along - no reason to spoil everything before chatting with Marath again, but he could at least do some homework.
Both the carafe and the mug were now empty and he headed out.
The day was bright and sunny, which was a rare and welcome occurrence. Kordys knocked, and soon enough, the latch opened and the door swung in - and he invited himself in. Sky-blue was much more relevant a descriptor today than it was yesterday, his eyes lingering on the reflections of the light pouring off of his scales.
“What’s the subject of the questions today?” Marath asked.
The raven had already fallen on that couch, reclined against the arm.
“Unaffiliated with work, this time. Unofficial business, purely my own interest in this whole ‘hypnosis’ thing.”
Marath had returned to cleaning the kitchen, an activity interrupted by the detective’s arrival.
“Do feel free to ask anything about it, I think I’m in a prime position to answer.”
Kordys rolled a bit to get comfortable, back on the seatcushions, looking up at the ceiling lights.
“You the only one that can do this sort of thing?”
“Oh, no, not at all. Lots of people can do it, my trick is only specifically the eyes being a focal point. Verbal or word-focused inductions in all varieties are all over the place - even visuals for enthusiasts. I, however can make such things in my eyes!”
The raven’s tongue was in his teeth, measuring twice for anything he said to follow, speaking slower. Had he said the word “enthusiasts” - like that? He took a deep breath.
“I see. So there’s a bunch of practitioners out there and you got a leg up from the innate talent, but it’s an existing thing.”
“Yeah, exactly like that.”
A pause hung in the air only permeated by a washcloth against glasses in the process of making their way from sink to wire rack.
“Curious what it feels like on the receiving end.”
The washcloth stopped brushing against the glass rim. He continued.
“Not gonna make up some bullshit about it being useful for interrogations or information extraction, or like I’m trying to learn how to guard my mind against it. Just been thinking about the clerk I talked to with a blank space between his ears and want to know what it’s like.”
Marath rinsed the glassware and set it upside down, water droplets hitting the foam pad underneath as he slithered to the couch.
“I don’t think I was expecting that at all, but I can certainly understand the itch of curiosity once it sets. I’d be more than willing to give you a short, controlled burst of it if you’re asking for it.”
The raven shifted upward from his slump, a relief off of him having said his piece.
“Loud and clear. Full affirmative and voiced consent for starin’ at those eyes and seein’ what happens.” he said.
The snake just chuckled, coiling up on the other cushion and looking down at the bird, beak hiding whatever expression lay beneath.
“Well, I can see why you’d wanna relax if you’re like this all the time, even off the clock. You made it sound like a legal document.”
A wry grin showed in response.
“I need to do anything, or just stare real close?”
“Shhhhh. Just be quiet, relax, breathe slow, and let me take care of that.”
Kordys shut his lips and his eyes went wide, even before the light show started, moving quickly to adjust his legs to remain decent as the sudden dominance struck a chord inside of him.
There was no instant fade to black or his mind turning off like an ancient television screen. He’d expected the supernatural and gotten a breathtaking natural phenomena, like hiking the unindustrialized enclaves that were left and happening across a tranquil body of water. The first thing that made him sigh was his own introspection, so focused on what he was feeling as he tried to go under that, counterproductively, he wanted it so bad that his mind was racing. So much for quiet thoughts.
Marath had stopped talking and leaned in, fanning his hood to blot out more of the room, and Kordys was equally taken by the brilliant scales as the scintillating, almost glimmer-like shine of his eyes. Like a snowglobe full of glitter, multiples, turquoise, halting his thoughts with sheer presence alone.
Meditation had never been easy. Places to go, things to do, thoughts to mull on. Suppressing the roaring waves would be a challenge, but at least there was something so mesmerizing to stare at. Deep in their eyes, searching as if he had a goal, some lost object inside of them, some deeper meaning. Enough to lift himself out of the room itself and purely into his own contemplation, body weightless, body heavy, body frozen, just admiring what was inside that crystalline superstructure within the gleam and glint of the light catching that field of glitter.
It wasn’t even light from outside refracting, was it? That turquoise glow came from inside, bioluminescent. The serpent was probably saying something. Was this what hypnosis felt like? He didn’t feel like he’d hand over his badge and gun without question if he was asked. Was it powerful enough to seem like nothing, or was this just a gentle feeling of meditation? He kept staring, making sure he gave a real effort to feel it - he didn’t even know what it was - the it that represented trance, represented his desire, the thought of anxiety washing away and being entirely captured by someone’s charm.
Marath had been observing the physical changes, no spoken feedback to watch - just the tempo of the detective’s breath slowing. A first good sign to see he was starting to get taken by the implicit rhythm of the lights in those eyes, feel himself somewhat suggested to follow. His eyelids fluttered and his pupils drifted between seeming aware and asleep; his muscles relaxed as the base tension started to fade into a slump against the couch. His mouth opened slightly, subtle, another data point towards his enjoyment. The duration of silence, the stasis that the bird basked in - it was a success.
He leaned back and ceased the shimmer with a blink, a yawn coming from the avian who was already motioning to wipe his eyes. He shifted again, attempting to hide the blush on his face and the tent in his pants, the snake choosing to not comment on it yet.
“Did you enjoy your first taste of going under?” he asked with a grin.
“Not exactly sure what I felt. Or how deep I was. Or how long I was there, which makes me inclined to believe something happened.”
“You’re something, alright.” Marath said.
The gruff demeanor lightened and a smile happened across the avian’s beak.
“Real enjoyable, whatever it is. Not sure the expectations I came in with. Almost expected to get promptly zombified or stupefied and made to march around. Different than I expected, but very good.”
“What the hell were you even reading in your ‘research,’ Kordys? That sounds like you were reading someone’s, uhhh, ridiculous carnal fantasy.” A fanged smirk accompanied the words.
The raven turned crimson again.
“Read everything I could get my hands on. Not the largest topic, but there’s a corpus out there.” They both chuckled, and his posture opened up for the first time, arms along the back of the couch.
“I’m very glad to hear you enjoyed it.”
“Like I said, real good. Glad I got up to being curious about it, because now that itch is sated.”
“That’s not going in any sort of dossier or something that’ll be on official record, right? I’d hate if this became an inconvenience for me down the road.”
“Nah, you got my word. Purely personal interest. Gave me more questions than answers.”
“Oh? You’ll have to go on and share.”
“Probably figure them out soon and run them by you again.”
“Feel free to be my guest.” the serpent said with a wink.
“I’d honestly feel at this point like you’re being the slowest tease possible. You’ve got a really big interest in hypnosis for someone who’s merely curious enough to come back, ask to go under, strike up conversation, and dance around the point.”
“Could be. Maybe I haven’t even realized it.”
“I’m interested in how your first example was getting turned into a zombie and marching around. Maybe you could tell me more about what caught your eye there.”
“First thing I ran into. General plot overview was a guy staring at a pocketwatch, stomping around a bit, and then they closed the scene.”
“Are you happening to omit a couple details there?”
“He was nude.”
“Was he undressed before all the hypnosis started?”
“Not at all.”
“There are quite a number of stories out there that push past what’s real and what’s possible. All sorts of screens with flashing lights to make someone succumb, tricks with magic, voices laden with reverberating and commanding cadences.”
“Yeah, seen a couple where it’s a magical sort of thing. Hand on the back of the head, eyes start going blank.”
“Kordys, you read a lot of these, didn’t you.”
“Maybe. Got one open now with an audio focus. Guy listens to fingersnaps and they set up this trigger thing and then use it on him while he’s awake. That a real or fantasy part?”
“Oh, those are totally real.”
“Huh. Color me surprised.”
“Yeah, they’re a lot of fun.”
“Take it you’ve done that to someone then? And I guess that opens the other question - are you routinely doing this to people?”
“I didn’t think it was worth noting in my first encounter with an official investigation to mention I get up to steamy hypnosis kink play with people in my spare time. My bad. I suppose I should open up with it the next time.”
“Not like I make a routine of showing the badge and then say I’ve worn a collar a collar once and had it yanked on, either.”
“Ahhhhhh. There it is. After all that leading around to the point, I think I know exactly what you’re asking. Not just the hypnosis, but you’re interested in the submissive aspect as well.”
“Yeah.”
“I figured you’d ask every tangential question under the sun before you got to that one. I’ve got a mental image of you blushing and reading over that five or six times before finally sending it.”
“Three times, actually.”
“Anything else you were going to say and backspaced?”
“Just a more clear wording. ‘Yeah, I’m interested in getting taken under in a submissive and steamy sort of way.’ Something like that - it wouldn’t add much, you already got the gist of it.”
“You know you got hard when I zonked you out the first time, right? It was visible, I wasn’t going to say anything. I thought it was cute.”
“…shit, really? I was probably too preoccupied to notice. Wonder why that was.”
“I might have had something to do with it. Anyway, point being. Come by again and bring that collar when you do. It’ll be cute to see you go from shy to moaning.”
“Sure thing.”
The conversation lingered in his mind for a couple days. He was torn between a giddy excitement and a disbelief that it was happening in the first place, pulled from eagerness to confusion at how he’d even gotten himself into it. The arousal seemed to grease any hesitation on going along with it.
He’d casually chattered since then about a myriad of topics with the snake; hobbies, general talk, far enough removed from the initial meeting that a sense of normalcy had descended with time.
Leftovers were still refrigerated from his celebration with Varan and the others, another thorn in the department’s side crossed off and laid to rest - and as such, work resumed again, tracing pathways for illicit funds, weapon deals, corruption at an organized scale. To everyone else, the saga of the mysterious, quasi-supernatural blank void had ended with a whimper, all the build-up deflated with the report Kordys wrote. Bad optics for the snake to leave a trail of dazed subjects in his wake, but he really hadn’t been the cause of any of it and didn’t present a further threat.
The raven wondered if he’d been entirely brainwashed into thinking that the archvillain was peaceful, a mere victim of one of the stories he was reading - but that part was consigned to fantasy, naturally. He dreamed about himself as an adventurer while he sipped from his mug, a knight trying to storm a castle and getting captured by a serpent that would enslave him with only a glance. From apprehending the evildoer to eating out of the palm of their hand with adoring eyes; it was enough to make let out a long, slow sigh.
It felt farfetched from the experience he had on the couch - concepts of “evildoer” and villain versus the rather polite snake - but, naturally, just as horny in his mind, and all of his thoughts about suspension of disbelief were in a tangle. Suggestibility? Sure. It was hard to imagine he could really forget anything or go under like he’d read about, but exploring even the illusory fantasy of it was enjoyable enough to roleplay a little bit around the serpent, who seemed absolutely convinced of it.
Maybe there was a bit of fantasy breaking through the cracks, though. Those irises seemed a little bit supernatural.
His collar laid out on the counter, a reminder to take it with him; he never mentioned that the time he’d worn one was someone else’s, and his immediate response was to procure one with a flutter in his chest. The outright teasing had died to a simmer as they messaged each other, finally scheduling a meeting for the start of the week, which was now today, and the avian continued to pace around his kitchen, wondering what to wear, overthinking the small things. After deliberation, he left, and was just as soon back in the apartment that had started feeling familiar by the third visit.
Marath chuckled, noticing that the raven was empty-handed before he himself did, collar still on the countertop miles away.
“Did you find yourself in such a rush to get here that you forgot what I asked you to do?” he said, tongue flicking out in a playful hiss.
Kordys eyes went wide.
“Uh… shit. I had a lot on my mind when I was getting ready to leave, my bad. I can go get it.” he said, noticing his own response to that prod. He thought about it while the snake just laughed it off.
“You’re already here. I’d rather enjoy you while I’ve got you in my clutches. What’d did you have in mind, dear bird?”
“Could do another gentle trance like that last one, but with me aware of it being a kink to participate in…” he said.
“Oh, you mean not feeling like you have to hide the fact you sport a boner as soon as I start getting in your head?”
“Look, Marath-” he said, turning his neck from otherwise around the room straight to look at the snake. After a moment, he melted into the cushion, with a quiet, tempered voice, neck tipped back. “Yeah, exactly that.”
“Taking it slow, relaxation focus, letting you indulge a bit in how good it feels and the pleasure… hmmm.” Marath said, eyes twinkling.
Kordys couldn’t tell if they were normally that stunning or if it had already started.
“Would you want any bit of play on that submissive side? Stress the obedience aspect?”
“Sounds wonderful if you take it slow.”
The serpent had reoriented himself to take up one half of the furniture, looking down at the avian, both of them turned to the middle to make contact with the other.
“I just have to get you from overthinking to not thinking at all, don’t I. This shouldn’t be too hard. It’s cliche, but you’re going to relax for me.”
Again the hood spread wide like a satellite dish to focus in a signal, attention directed to those eyes, a shine from beneath the surface materialized from nothing at all, infinitely deep. Where there was a question before, there was none now - they were, by all measures, hypnotic.
Kordys took a moment to get comfortable, staring at them, slight nod feeling natural.
“Relaxing is the first step, yeah? Gotta just make sure I do that right.” he said.
Marath slowly brought his hand forth and took the raven’s chin, a slight jerk of surprise turning into melting forward into it, as if he had to dip his toes in and see that the water wasn’t cold. He continued falling into that scaled palm until he was fully supported by it.
For a moment, the only sound that existed were brushes of fabric against the sofa and the soft breaths, not yet in unison, snake leading the way on a deliberate, controlled rhythm; raven attempting to bring a wild, unruly beast in line as his heart fluttered and he reaffirmed the slow breaths to match the other.
Blinks were all that stopped the light show, and the more he grew accustomed to it, the more every camera-shutter of black made him yearn for it even more. It was the same sensation from before, the juxtaposition of feeling as a feather and a lead weight at the same time.
Kordys realized that at some point, the conversation had died off. He didn’t know when. The fact that the recollection took effort made him feel a warm pulsing between his legs.
“You’re doing so well for me. I didn’t even have to tell you to slow your breath and match mine. But I figure you’d want to hear it from my voice anyway.” he said, almost a whisper, serpentine hissing cadence seeming to wrap around the bird’s mind.
“Eyes closed for me.”
They slid shut, and his mind’s eye kept envisioning the sight, feeling sluggish and sleepy, in the thrall of an afternoon nap.
“Inhale.”
The words beckoned him to do so, feeling as being on cue was as natural as even, an actor being directed, guided, willing to be led.
“Exhale.”
How long had it been? A pause, much slower than he’d imagine would be comfortable, but it felt right to be so dormant and placid.
The commands continued for a while and he lost count of how many cycles it had been. His tendency to overanalyze had latched on to the words and following them to the letter, dulled by the induction to where all that remained was pure, uninterrupted fixation.
“Eyes open.”
Languid. Groggy.
He raised himself from the water’s surface, confused with no sense of urgency or alarm. Any questions he could dream of felt like they had a satisfying answer every time the serpent spoke. His eyelids didn’t even make it all the way up, just like his mouth didn’t fully shut, and his words didn’t fully get enunciated. To him, that was perfectly fine.
“Feeling good over there, Kordys?” came a lighter inquiry, no longer in that pacifying intonation.
“Uh-huh.” was all he could muster in response. Even without many words, it spoke volumes. Marath grinned wide, pleased with his work.
“That’s a good bird.” he said, eagerly watching the crotch of those pants for a sign of life at the praise, seeing the fabric tent and bounce on command just as expected. He pounced on the situation.
“Looks like someone’s getting a little worked up over there from being in a haze, aren’t they?” he asked.
“Uh-huh,” came the response.
Every leading question just pushed it further, bouncing, throbbing beneath the surface. Questions, suggestions, and commands all blurred into one single tool of persuasion.
“It would feel a lot better if you didn’t have to keep it under those clothes, don’t you think?”
From prompt to expected response - affirmation from the bird. Nod, agree, await further instruction. He didn’t move to action, but he certainly tuned in to hear those next words.
“Take them off for me.”
His talons reached to undo the button, fumbling for a second, the flash of a zipper getting pulled from top to bottom, waist lowered until his tight briefs were exposed with a prominent bulge pushing out at the fabric, a drip of precum sitting at the tip.
The serpent felt his own rush at seeing it unveiled, exercising responsible restrained with the new subject, letting him explore it at a gentle pace. He dreamed about how many things he wanted to do, the regularly stoic avian disarmed before him, spiky shell peeled away into uninhibited bliss. The thought of training obedience into his mind made Marath lick his lips.
“Why don’t you stand and give me a good show, hmm?” he asked.
Kordys stood and walked along the front of the couch, brim of his shirt pinned by the base of his arousal rising above it at attention.
“Right before me, hands behind your back, if you will.”
The command was followed, and seeing the subservient bird present himself stoked those flames even further. Marath had to take a deep breath, shifting, letting himself calm down.
“Kneel for me.”
No longer a question. Just a command, pure and direct, and he looked down into those empty, vacant eyes. Precum dripped through those briefs on to the floor. The serpent’s chest was racing, eyes wide, glaring at the prey before him and feeling his desires burn. He slipped two fingers into that open beak and tilted the bird’s neck to meet his eyes.
As soon as that warm tongue wrapped around them and started to suck without prompting, he throbbed and twisted in his seat. It took all his restraint not to fuck the bird in the mouth right there, have him wake up confused, seed sprayed on his beak, coming back to awareness and realizing he was such a good cocksleeve and-
Another deep breath. Such things could wait. Responsibility mattered, and this was probably the perfect amount for a first “real” session, anyway.
He withdrew his fingers and snapped, telling the bird to “Wake.”
Kordys blinked and looked around, unsurprised that he was kneeling, since he’d been seeing it the whole time, but now acutely aware of just how easily he’d been made to do so, all ideas sounding perfectly good from the serpent’s voice as he listened. He licked his lips and stared at those fingers.
Marath wondered if he’d done too much too quickly, hearing nothing from the subject for a moment in a paralyzing grasp of dominant-anxiety.
The raven’s brow raised, eyes wide again, sharp clarity behind them as it used to be, and he grinned.
“Holy shit.” was all he said, looking down between his legs. He didn’t even make a motion to get up, just remaining kneeling and staring.
“I take it you enjoyed it then?” the serpent asked, voice making it as a tease, giving himself careful reassurance.
“Absolutely. I had no idea that it could just grab you, and then- and then you’re persuaded like a dream, like when you’re asleep and everything just makes total sense and you take it all at face value and don’t really question it, and when you’re just up too late and passively taking in all the stuff you’re browsing, just transfixed, and so fucking horny for it when it’s just every single word makes you-”
The scaled palm now rested on the bird’s head rather than holding his chin, interrupting him with delight.
“Let’s get you some water and let you wake up a bit more.”
He’d stood up, walked around a bit to get his bearings, and crashed right back on the couch as the snake went to fill a glass and slide it across the coffee table, curling up and putting his own chin on his fist, ready to drink in all of the bird’s thoughts and feedback.
The sense of aroused urgency had dissipated, but he happened to quite enjoy seeing the bird casually remain undressed as he spoke.
“Washed away a lot of the skepticism. It ain’t exactly like the stories, but man does it feel really good to go under. Surprised at how… otherworldly you sound when you drop into that tone. It’s like everything happens to me rather than me being in the moment.”
His forked tongue flicked and retracted and he had no idea what to say about the bird’s comments; he smiled. It was hard to describe such things, but the meaning behind the words was perfectly clear, even if the descriptions themselves were muddled.
Eventually they ran out of things to say about hypnosis and fell into a clump and talked about movies instead. Marath had no idea what Kordys was talking about and kept referencing books the raven hadn’t heard of. Neither one of them was getting anywhere, but somehow they felt like it was a productive conversation. After laying against each other silently for a moment, they said their goodbyes and Kordys was out the door.
“Did I mention that I never really get to do this sort of thing in a physical space?”
“Wouldn’t have guessed. You seem really experienced and confident.”
“I mean, of course, you’d say such a thing when you’re charmed. But yeah, mostly I do this to other folks online, so it was a fun change to try it and see what it was like.”
“Just get them hazy with the words alone, then?”
“Yeah, you’d be surprised how well it works over textual mediums or any of the virtual worlds out there. All I need is a way to get words in front of someone, be it a screen like this or an audio feed.”
“Makes sense. Wait, does that mean you don’t get to use the eyes much?”
“That’s why I told you in the first meeting I was surprised that it happened at all.”
“Huh. Interesting.”
“By the way, how did you manage to forget the collar a second time? Are you on the way over, or did I just save you again?”
“Three for three actually, I’m already almost there.”
“I wonder if making you remember something is going to be more difficult than making you forget…”
The chance meeting had turned to routine, and Kordys had already spent many a night having his brain turned to mush to the point where he’d considered himself slightly experienced at going under. Workdays continued as usual, nothing causing unusual stress in a relatively dull period; he didn’t mind at all. If everything was going well around the city, he didn’t have much to do - and preferred it that way, for both reasons. Varan occasionally threw small culprits to track down his way and with each one they’d go have a feast afterwards to congratulate knocking another task of the board, as per ritual.
Everything with Marath was a shakeup to his usual schedule. Not that he minded at all - moreso that he had been looking forward to it, regularity and familiarity turning it from something exciting, novel, new, and scary - into something just plain enjoyable.
It had stayed in the realm of taking it slow and gentle; soft, comforting trances, mostly restrained to relaxation and laying on each other on the couch. Kordys had mentioned the idea of twisting the knob a bit and getting into something a bit more involved; which the snake had merely laughed at and asked why he hadn’t brought the collar to get trained like a pet yet.
Of course, this time, after many teasing messages sent back and forth, he remembered it. Just a week late.
He’d reached the point where he was comfortable reaching into Marath’s cabinets by this point whenever he was thirsty; in his mind, a grand leap forward in acclimation. The sun was starting to go down, and on that very weekday evening, he’d found himself in the serpent’s kitchen, dropping the collar off on the table, and already filling a glass to have in his hand while they conversed.
“I still can’t get over how we ran into each other and that you didn’t even know it was, like, a fetish.” hissed a forked tongue.
“Beats me how I missed it. Surprised myself that I made an excuse to swing by and put myself out there.”
“Given the fun we’ve had, it’s good that you did. Although I bet you expected something more sinister and foreboding given the usual job.”
“Yeah, we mischaracterized that one. Kinda feels like diving into being zonked too, though - you go in thinking it’s gonna be this scary mental enslavement and instead we’re just having a good time and I’m a bit quieter and hazier.”
“Sounds like you almost wish I was the villain that your investigation made me out to be.”
The raven rolled his eyes and laughed.
“Didn’t know at the time it would end up wishful thinking rather than a reasonable occupational precaution. I’ve read enough like that to know I’ve got a weak spot for it, I guess.”
Marath swirled himself on the base of the cushion and fell back, unwinding and sighing.
“I see what you mean though. It’s a big jump when you’re new to get zonked - expectations and fantasy versus the reality of it, what actually happens, thinking about one thing and getting another. I guess the ‘underwhelming’ finale to the sleuthing could feel like an analogy for expecting heavy brainwashing and enslavement and you just end up watching movies together sometimes.”
Kordys smiled.
“Exactly what I mean.”
“I could just finish all your sentences for you and tell you what you mean, if you want more of that.” He stared over the island to meet the bird’s gaze. “Let’s try it.”
“Sounds fun. I’d want to–” he started, not fully processing what Marath meant.
“–be a good pet for you.” came the hiss from the couch.
Kordys was surprised for a moment and then turned away, looking at the floor.
“Marath, I–”
“–want to wear my collar for you.” came the satisfied hiss.
The sound of a boot tapping against the tile was all that cut through the silence, Kordys darting his eyes again.
“Just because you say it doesn’t make it true, I–”
“–will make sure to think about it until I believe it and agree and make it true for you.”
A groan accompanied a very flat and unamused stare. He took the collar in his hand and started toying with it, absentmindedly; his foot kept tapping.
“Is someone thinking about putting that on?” Marath asked, chuckling.
“Look, I just–”
“–want nothing more than to casually wear it around you.”
The flustered bird rolled his eyes and started looping around his neck, the metal clasp rattling as the material pulled through the hoop and clicked into place.
“Good boy.”
He walked over to the couch and sat down, flustered, blushing, teased, bothered.
“You make for a very cute toy, you know.”
Their eyes met once more and the ice-blue sparkling had already began, intense, captivating him before he even realized. His mouth fell open slightly, slow breath, staring deep inside and losing himself once more.
Familiarity and routine - he’d seen the sight enough to feel nothing but excitement and joy, subsumed by a blank and dull void afterward. In the sudden show, he’d forgotten to reply at all.
“I will say though, I really like the idea of the villain that you crafted and thought of me as. The blank void in space of a name is a cute one - I could just roleplay as a heartless, calculating conqueror of minds.”
No reply from the bird. He stopped the shimmer in his iris and let his plaything wake up a bit.
“I just have to do the glimmer from time to time and keep you on your toes; it’s cute when you’re more agreeable and less sharp than usual.”
By that time, his eyes had refocused and the vacant expression had shaken off to his usual stare.
“Always forget just how striking that is as soon as it’s over. It’s really something else.”
“I wonder if it leaves you more receptive afterwards and for how long.”
“Should definitely test it.”
“Would you get up and strip down if I told you to?”
Kordys went crimson.
“Probably. You’ll get me to do it anyway eventually, and I’m getting more comfortable with it, so.”
The serpent raised a hand in the air as if to ponder an object in his palm, only to snap his fingers with a sharp, striking authority.
“Down to your briefs then, Kordys.”
He took a deep breath and stood, shrugging off the shirt and pants without much fanfare except to shudder a bit with how it felt, tent exposed and cock grinding against the fabric, crashing right back down in a clump. Feathered hands couldn’t pull themselves away from giving it a slight tease.
“How did that feel, hmm?” asked a smirking face.
“Good. Real good. Turns out you can still behave right even when you’re not actively zonked, who would have thought.” came the reply, distracted and uneven.
“Seeing that just makes me wonder what I should do with you next. I could leave in a casual sort of trigger like that snap, or I could do a more intense temporary session with you…” he said.
Kordys spent much less time introspecting and agonizing over every word and just let the lust-filled atmosphere get to his head. He thought about both options for a second, throbbed a bit, and then his tongue rolled out before he even realized it, licking his lips.
“I know exactly what I’ll do with you, pet.” the serpent said, patting his lap, motioning to the bed of scintillating coils, blue and white in a majestic pile. “Come sit on my lap.”
Marath, again, found himself in a position of having everything he wanted right in the palm of his hand, eager enough that his own arousal surged; any hint of vacancy in that bird’s expression drove him wild, and soon he felt the feathers against his chest.
“Turn around and face me.” he said, aiding with the effort to reposition so that the raven was soon nose-to-nose with a hood surrounding him.
In a blink, those eyes became his whole world once more, feeling the soft touch of the serpent along his body, punctuating every word, every suggestion. The entire sequence had taken on that dream-like quality again, unmistakably -under-, no way to ever doubt that feeling again. His eyelids drooped, a telltale sign of drowsiness creeping in, every rippling pulse of ice-blue light a comforting blanket.
Every single word stripped away his conscious mind, leaving it dormant, consumed by the mesmerizing sight and a blank vessel for the subconscious to take the spotlight. Obedience without thought. Listening without hearing. So many conflicting sensations, weightless, heavy, intently focused, absentminded all at the same time, letting those whispers - he’d long since stopped following, but he knew what they said - guide him wherever Marath wanted him to be, deeply entranced, suggestible, and ready to be programmed.
He sat upright as a hand gently ruffled the back of his head. Programmed? That was a new thought, and he wondered- and forgot what he was questioning, seeing those eyes and feeling that soft touch. Another whisper in his ear confirmed what he was always thinking. Of course he wanted to be programmed. Trained. Molded. That’s what he’d asked for, after all. Obedience to be commanded of him and worked into every single fiber of his being, a pet in all regards, just as they’re expected to behave. He blinked and knew that it’s what he craved and that Marath was, as usual, completely correct.
Words had been put in his mind. He knew it as a fact, accepted as the reasoning in a dream that needs no justification, every statement taken as true in a tautological sense. Staring and listening so long almost made him feel like he was going to collapse, so empty-headed and light in that moment that everything was spinning - he got turned back around to the room, remembered where he was, and gently slumped with his back pressed against the serpent’s chest.
Being removed from that gaze made some faculties return. He was aware of his own body again, his leaking dick staining the front of his briefs, of the fact he felt every breath behind him, and the new sensation of a finger looped in his collar to occasionally tug and a warm, twitching length grinding through its own fabric at his backside.
He didn’t even really remember what had gone on when the hood surrounded him, but the turquoise-scaled hand reached down and pulled his underwear down to reveal what was underneath. The serpent’s free hand wrapped around his shaft, and the hand holding the collar unwound itself, resting by his ear.
As he was about to speak, he heard that voice, low, still in his hypnotic cadence right in his ear.
“When I snap.” came a growl.
The words fell into his mind and awakened a response that has been implanted, the words that had found their way in earlier; and a monotone voice replied “I will obey.”
The hand around his shaft gave an eager squeeze and started to stroke. His hips buckled to thrust against that hand, leaking and spilling away all his remaining efforts and thoughts.
“When I snap.”
Another prompt, so visceral a need to say what he knew he should, eager, moaning it out.
“I will obey.”
The call and response continued as the bird’s momentary wakefulness when removed from that direct charming gaze slipped right back down into a trance, barely able to mumble out the words.
Eventually Marath’s tailtip had swung around to the front and inserted itself right into that loose maw, no words of protest, only a hazy groan as it pushed in and pressed against his tongue. His posture melted to a slump, turning into a puddle, sucking on the scales as the words in his ear moved from a prompt to a declaration.
“You will obey.” punctuated with a snap.
He licked the scales, felt the snake’s lengths against his back, squirmed, and nodded. His eyes glassed over again.
“You will obey.” another snap causing him to throb, leak, and shiver.
He lost count of how many times he heard it, existing in that center of control until finally, at a snap, he emptied his seed out on to the floor with no regard for where he was, climaxing and firing rope after rope until he melted once more. His eyelids never fully opened back up, the snake moving to hold him close in an embrace, chin over his shoulder, tailtip removed. They remained that way for a couple minutes, Marath stroking his feathers, until the bird had fully awoken and he was told to get water - no snap needed, and they just fell into their usual spots on the couch soon after.
After a while, the intensity once again died to a comfortable simmer, and everything was back to casual chatter and banter - except for the fact that Kordys remained merely in his briefs and a collar. As tiredness crept in, he was the first to shift the topic and start a new line of conversation.
“All the sessions we’ve gotten up to have been amazing on my end. Anything you’re thinking about and haven’t had the chance to bring up yet, Marath?” he asked.
The snake shifted a bit as he threw an arm on the back cushion, around the avian’s shoulder, pulling him against the scales. He opened his mouth, closed it, and took a deep breath.
“Well, I did notice something.” he said.
Kordys turned to make eye contact.
“I think it’s much more prominent in the times like this, after.” The bird remained silent; the serpent gathered his thoughts further with a pause.
“Remember how I mentioned mostly doing this online?” he asked, with a nod in response.
“You saw the way I show myself. The writing, the overt, domineering presentation. I think it’s nice to be seen as… more than just that.” he said.
Kordys waited, but shifted himself closer to really rest against the snake without having to lean and crane his body over. He nestled under the snake’s arm and stared forward at the table.
“I mean, past the controlling hypnotist image, there’s a person beneath it. I feel like it’s easy to see someone purely for that exterior shell; like I’m pigeonholing myself, in a sense. Makes it nice to have times like these, where I’m seen as more than just a hand holding a leash, I guess.”
The raven spoke up, tilting his neck to look at those eyes again.
“Makes sense. Everyone’s got more facets than they show at a given time. As hot as it is to play into that role, pretenses like that can be tiring if you feel stuck in them.” he said.
He felt a hand reach over and ruffle his headfeathers.
“Yeah, you’re exactly right. Sometimes I feel like I’m almost pressured to keep it up. But that’s why this has been really nice, because we’re sitting here in the aftermath, no performance necessary.”
He continued for a moment, confidence picking up.
“That’s not to say I won’t be that blank-void empty space you dreamed of. Just that there’s a push and pull, waxing and waning moods, and sometimes it’s nice to have both sides feel wanted rather than just seen as a singular thing - as a hypnotist, as whatever. The casual chatter means a lot.”
Kordys smiled and tipped over, falling headfirst into his lap and looking up. Marath looked down and fanned his hood to block out the ceiling.
“Don’t worry a bit about it. It’s only that we took it slow and easy and had that rapport I even ended up here in the first place. If you’d opened full blast in that mood I’d have been running the other way scared to try it.” he said.
There was a long pause before Marath spoke.
“Thank you for listening - and for asking. It means a lot that you asked. Although I do want to see one thing now…”
The raven’s brow raised.
A sharp snap caught him off-guard, realigning his thoughts to the next few words, eagerly attuned, listening deep.
“Roll over, head down.”
As he spun around, he felt the luxurious mass of coiled scales twist and turn and reorient themselves, and his face landed on something that wasn’t scaled - a soft, woven fabric, warm, with two monoliths of flesh buried underneath. He nuzzled against it and a soft moan fell out of his mouth, brushing, taking a deep breath, lost in it for a moment.
A hand pressed his head to remain stuck there.
“I know you’re a sub, but I got the feeling you were a bottom, too. Is that true?” he asked, teasing the collar with his other hand.
“Mhmmmm.” came the muffled reply, just brushing his face against that soft bulge, again and again.
“Good bird. You’ll be getting these next time, so be prepared. For now, though, you’ll have to be content to just fantasize.”
Neither of them moved, warmth in the moment feeling like a blanket. Fingers moved through feathers as they both settled into being tired and content.
“That idea really wormed its way in my head.”
“I’m sure it did. Wearing the collar and thinking about those fingersnaps probably did a number on you, so I’d be surprised if my teasing after didn’t have an effect like that.”
“Have you done something similar before?”
“I have, yes. Make the collar something so associated with trance so that the second it slips around their neck, they’re already feeling a tug down and right where I want them.”
“Easy to imagine the feeling.”
“Sometimes it doesn’t even have to be words that pulls someone deep; a sound, like snapping, or a sensation, like the firm grip of a collar around your neck can do it.”
“Making me want to go put it on talking like that.”
“In due time you’ll be trained, don’t you worry.”
“Eager as ever.”
“Does your schedule happen to be free tonight? Been itching to get a game going and we could pick right back up and keep going.”
“Absolutely. Got more coming up later in the week, but I’d be online tonight for sure.”
Marath had been dragged into overtime day after day and ground to dust in the past weeks. His schedule had devolved into escaping his obliged duties, coming back exhausted, sprawling out and wasting away one of the few diminished hours he had to himself, cursing himself for it, and then trying to make the most out of what was left - to the point where the act of relaxing was itself a stressful optimization problem.
There wasn’t much energy but to crash and sit at his desk, sucked into the virtual world to blow off some steam in a couple ways; various activities, talking about kinks and hypnosis under the guise he loved to assume. Occasionally he’d catch Kordys when their schedule lined up - he’d heard the bird got on another draining case - and they’d kick back and banter while the moon was out and dread the inevitable time when the sun showed itself once more.
Even if the vague inclination of what antics they had been up to prior surfaced, it was never the focus; someone would make a joke about spirals and swirls, and something would invariably steal the attention away and both of them would be focused on winning whatever it was they were up to. It was a welcome distraction while everything else was awry.
Writing was stalled due to a general lack of energy; crafting such a thing was effort, and his effort was constantly being drawn from a well that felt more limited than ever. Ideas were teased but never quite followed up on, and he scattershot threw his musings to the wild in a dizzying array.
Kordys had been pouring over them and eagerly devouring said snippets of talk about enthralled playthings being made to salute and pose, strip and march, and so on. His mind was racing with it, throwing all of his teases and energy towards the snake whenever inspiration hit, as the mental image of a hypnotist in his mind now had something tangible to latch on to.
Whenever a single figment of imagination had taken him, be it his own or Marath’s, he’d muse and brainstorm and deliberate, throwing all of those resultant thoughts over. He knew the snake was busy, but he figured he’d be able to at least strike up enough talk to make it easier to weather the storm.
The cordial replies made him smile, small nods about visors strapped over a face or staring at a screen until thoughts leaked out through his drooling beak. Nothing ever caught ablaze like that first week; they were coming up on the end of the month already from it. Even though it was enjoyable, the bird wondered and couldn’t pull his thoughts away from a creeping anxiety, the inverse of the snake’s worries during their last session.
There was no doubt that their friendship had kicked off; he was always elated to casually relax with the serpent, and the online games and talk had blossomed into being about everything and anything rather than just their shared fixation alone. But, of course, the fact that he’d read all those ideas, scrolling, about what the snake wanted to do to someone - the things he’d brainwash someone into given the chance, what he would order someone to do - left him in his own head.
Each one gave him a desire to throw a wave over as if to say “absolutely in agreement, and you have a subject right here!” Given they’d chat about the ideas when he’d share about his enjoyment of them, he figured that Marath was well aware of his desires, and the thought of being perceived as pushy in any way made him halt any further thought. Instead, the musing they did do would gradually grow dim as they each got distracted, and after a slight rush of enjoyment from the light tease, he’d go right back to dreaming and fantasizing, laying on the couch, hand reaching down to pleasure himself as it remained the subject of his ideation.
Rationally, he knew his friend was just busy. Having the match fail to strike an impassioned conversation like before in the face of all of that he saw as a presence tugged at him; it made him feel like he was missing out. He was aware it was anxiety, and knowing it was no cure at all. The arousal didn’t help, serving as a constant reminder of those thoughts in his head, occasionally giving a brush of his hand against the tented fabric as he thought about it.
One negative thought had a tendency to turn into an infestation, and he couldn’t shake wondering about if it was being rather new to the space, having unclear expectations if the kink thing was going to be a habit or not. He tossed and turned the thoughts around a couple times: was he overestimating his own role or importance, was this how it usually went?
Eventually he shook the cloud from his mind, miasma parting, and took what he considered the most sane course of action. The raven stood, walked to the fridge, grabbed a can and cracked it open, took a second to relax, and started typing a message to the serpent, no idea how to mention or phrase what was on his mind.
“We haven’t really gotten up to kink play in a while. Wondering if you’d like to do that soon and get back to how we were doing it earlier.”
He stared at it for a second and started editing. Marath’s comment about being glad he took the first initiative and checked in post-session stood out in his mind.
“Know it’s been a mess over there and hope it’s going well. Would love to get up to some more hypnotic shenanigans again when you’re free. Been great to hang and I’ve been craving the sessions as well.”
His finger reached to backspace another word and correct the smallest wordings. Instead, he willed himself to just send it, put the phone down on the countertop, and pick up the can again.
Kordys took a sip and waited for the buzz. It happened. He picked it up delicately to see the text.
“Yeah, of course! I would really enjoy that too. It’s been tough here, I haven’t really had a spare moment. I’ll try to make sure I’m available for it some time and keep you posted.”
The raven nodded, and the reply made him wonder if his own thoughts were completely unreasonable. He waited a moment before putting his hand to his chin: why leave any doubt?
“Had the feeling I was missing out and got in my own head about it. Reading the posts online had me wondering if there was something I needed to be doing or if it was grating to throw teases your way. Hard balance to strike.”
Again, he set it down and grimaced, shaking his head. The device buzzed again.
“I can totally see that. I was throwing those around just to blow off steam as it’s lower effort than getting up to anything serious with a subject. Nah, you aren’t missing out at all and it’s always good to hear from you.”
Relief washed over him. It buzzed again and he’d already flipped it face down - so he quickly reached to grab it again.
“You free tomorrow?”
Both of them were spent from the week’s rush, but spirits were mutually high now that they’d blocked off time to fool around. Marath was eager to shake the rust off and flex his control of someone’s mind after a slow period; Kordys had a weight off his shoulders and was ready to take it even further into relaxation.
Once he arrived, Kordys had quickly shrugged off his shirt and pants, the rhythmic pop of buttons from neck to belt, and stripped down to his comfortable pet-like attire. All that remained were the tight black briefs and collar he finished fastening around his neck, and he took a different spot on the couch this time: directly in Marath’s lap.
“So, any ideas what we’ll be getting up to this time?” he asked, falling forward against that wide scaly chest.
“I had an idea earlier… how would you like it if I just made you think I was that villain you thought I was before we met?” he hissed softly.
“Like the imposing dom persona you do?”
Marath reached forward and laid a possessive hand on the bird’s back side.
“Yeah, something like that. I think I’d like to tease you about an alternate scenario where it really was just a straightforward detective story the whole time, and you would compromise yourself just to spend another moment in my coils.”
Kordys shifted on his seat and squirmed, cock springing to life.
“Before we keep chatting though, you remember the safeties and safewords, right?” the serpent asked.
“Of course. Sounds extremely fun, too. How do we start, do I need to get into a role or something? Act like we hadn’t come to know each other so casually?” Kordys said.
“That’s cute. By now though, you should know that if I want you to do something, I’ll have you do it.”
Kordys blushed. Marath chuckled and suddenly snapped his fingers.
“You’ll believe whatever I say, because you’re a good pet.” he said, voice dropping into that low cadence that Kordys knew so well; the cadence that played him like a fiddle.
The bird froze, eyes going wide, clash between his conscious mind and his subconscious: parsing the situation after already fallen victim to the trigger. Another snap rang out.
“You’re a nice, gullible bird. And that’s good.”
Kordys groaned and looked at the serpent, a dull look on his face, fighting to realize what was being set up and never quite grasping it, always out of reach. Another snap. And another. And another.
“You’ve forgotten how many times you’ve been here.”
“You’ve forgotten why you were here so many times in the first place.”
“You feel like you know nothing about the serpent before you except that you’ve seen him before. Everything else is a blur.”
The sharp snaps reached his ears in sequence and his blinks became difficult and strained. His face was pure confusion, looking at someone he didn’t know - but should know, - unsure of why he should remember the serpent, thrown into a wholly unfamiliar world. Everything had broken apart like a jigsaw, and there wasn’t enough time to reassemble the pieces into something coherent.
Just as he was starting to make sense of his own place, another sharp snap washed over him. His mouth fell open.
“You’re a dignified, proud, and stoic detective. You’ve been hunting a hypnotic villain and trying to understand his motives and method.”
A bit of drool had started to slip from his beak.
“Gullible, malleable, and even a little aware of the fact you’re getting bat around like a ball of yarn.”
The snake ruffled the bird’s head gently.
“And wake for me.” he said, baring his fangs and trying his hardest to look intimidating.
The dazed ball of feathers in front of him struggled to ascend, looking around and shaking his head, yawning, and staring forward. With a couple seconds came a sharper look, posture shaping up, and clarity coming back to his expression. Shock dawned on him.
“Wh… how did I?” he started to ask.
Marath wondered how to spin the story, bouncing ideas around in his mind; tell the bird he’s been a programmed sleeper agent, or that he’s been captured, or – he perked up with an idea.
“Get a little sleepy there?” the snake asked, an affectionate tone in his voice.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” he said, back to their first encounter’s gruff and impersonal manner.
“Well, you had a very good idea trying to lure me into a date to confirm your suspicions, but I’m afraid you slipped up and made it too obvious.” he said, baring his fangs. He wondered to himself if the avian would be gullible enough to run with the setup.
Kordys frowned and shook his head.
“I won’t say anything about that.” he said.
“You don’t have to. I’ve already figured it all out, and you’re right in my clutches. I wonder if I should call you Detective now that you’re aware I know…” he hissed out with a playful note in his voice.
He squirmed and tried to keep his composure, but there was an expression of fear under it.
“I had a hunch and followed it. If anything, this talk of being in your clutches and your knowledge of being pursued only confirms what I was thinking…” he said.
Marath just flicked his tongue.
“You’re right, by the way. The guess was correct. You found me. The hypnotic mastermind behind everything you followed, the reason you came across all those dazed and blank folk who did as I told them.”
The avian was silent.
“But I can’t just let you go and tell the whole world, now, can I. And to think I found you so charming on the date, only for you to have other plans and things you wanted me to spill. Perhaps I can just empty out your memories while you’re here and leave you washed clean or the whole encounter.”
His mouth fell open, trying to think of a retort. It was hard to find something to disagree with; a villain hiding their presence was to be expected, really. Of course he wouldn’t be let out unscathed; other than the fact that he considered his willpower strong enough to hold out.
“Once I get out, you know I’m making the report, snake. I don’t allow myself to be bribed. If you let me leave that door by any means, it’s your own fault. Do your worst, I’m clever enough to find some way to hold on to the memory.” he said. Marath feigned a sad, contemplative expression.
“You were just so adorable when you were flattering me to get close, though. I almost wish you slipped up after we had a passionate night rather than in the middle of it; it’s hard to take you as seriously as I should so undressed.”
The bird blushed and throbbed through the briefs.
“It wasn’t all just blowing smoke up your ass. You’re handsome, but you’re the blank space that’s been on my board to hunt for a while. The job comes first.” he growled out.
The serpent, beaming with his enjoyment of seeing the bird that had been so caring not that long ago now fierce and determined, felt his own arousal grow.
“What if it didn’t, though?” he asked with a smile.
“Pardon?”
“What if the job came second, and being a good servant for me came first?”
“I’d never let that happen.”
“I’m only a blank void to you because I haven’t filled it in and told you what to properly call me. You’d just be so charming with a change of priorities and a new allegiance.”
The serpent’s chest fluttered, ready to pounce. He snapped his fingers.
“You’re going to stay right here in my lap until I release you. Isn’t that right, detective?” he said.
There was only a groan, bird frozen in place, aching and twitching with need, leaking through the front of his briefs once again: a wonderful sight for a serpent to bask in.
It was hard to even speak rather than just listen to the blue and white-scaled authority before him. Marath waved his hands like a conductor, and the sound of a metronome’s soft clicks, one per second, resounded throughout the room.
“Let’s see how long you last.” he said, fingers primed to drill in the next suggestions.
“You have no special resistance to hypnosis.”
“You are just as vulnerable to my charms as those you’ve seen, if not more.”
“Every click of the metronome shaves away more resistance.”
He punctuated them with the trigger he’d had so much fun with, watching the bird sway and barely remain upright. Every click seemed to pull his eyelids deeper, mouth falling open, monologue descending into a dull confusion once more. Marath had started to lecherously run his fingers along the raven’s form, along his shoulders, his chest, tracing that bulging cock through the fabric.
“You will come to obey me, just as the others did. Listen to the metronome. Surrender yourself to me. Give yourself to that higher purpose of being under my spell and eager for my command.” he said.
It was hard to even tell if Kordys was responding, outside of the sharp inhalations and cocktwitches that bounced with the suggestions and mentions of control.
“Listen, sink, and become mine.” he said, snapping at the last word, emphasizing and reinforcing the possessiveness. On cue, he felt the other’s arousal spring. He let the metronome be the only noise in the room for a few seconds before running a finger along his new toy’s collar.
“Now then. Given you felt like you could resist earlier, let’s dispel those motions entirely.” he said.
“Ask me to fill that blank space in your mind and tell you who I am.”
The words felt heavy and labored, sluggish, mumbled, and his enunciation had muddled even further to the point where it sounded like a synthesis between moaning and sounding it out. The bird repeated what he was told.
The answer he was given, was that Marath gently put a hand under his chin and tilted it up from where it lay limply against the bird’s own chest before, made their eyes lock, and used his free hand to shove two fingers in his open maw as the scaled hood fanned out, grandiose.
“Master.”
Kordys went limp and his eyes went wide, drinking it in. The blank space. The thing he’d been chasing. Everything at once drawn into the fact that he knew the target of that hunt was his master, the one who owned him, the one who took care of his mind and decided what he needed to be thinking. The serpent waved again and the metronome turned off; he removed his fingers to let his plaything speak.
“Refer to me properly, toy.” he growled out.
As soon as Kordys let out that soft moan that the serpent was expecting, Marath shivered; seeing such an empty-headed thrall say it, that completely vacant tone - that same fire from before awoke in him. His tone became deeper, a natural sense of command, becoming what he was acting in the moment.
“On your knees, thrall.” he said.
It was only a moment before the avian’s chest was visible above the couch cushion, and Marath pulled it forward - having disrobed himself in the twisting and turning of coils - planting the detective’s head between his twin cocks, staring up at his owner.
“If I told you to erase the records you have on me, what would you do?” he said.
“I would obey, Master.” came the soft voice from below. His fingers curled to press him down, gently, and both of his erections brushed against his toy’s cheeks.
“If I told you to hand over everything you had about a topic, what would you do?”
“I would obey, Master.” Just as empty as the first. He throbbed again at the sound.
“Good detective. Would anyone know you’ve been brainwashed and subjugated?”
“No, Master.” came the response. He couldn’t help but push that head back and bring it down on one of his spires, leaning back into the chair as the bird got to work lapping up every drip of precum.
A snap rang out in his ears. Or three. Everything has turned into a frozen moment in time.
“I own you.”
“I control you.”
“Master will be obeyed.”
At a certain point, the voices had overlapped in the mantra-like fixation on control, and the serpent had pulled the bird down on both cocks, filling his maw, sinking into bliss at the service he was being given, eyes closing and teeth clamped shut, barely able to speak; until that rush happened, and he took a deep breath. Marath brought the bird’s head squarely to the base and let loose, sending multiple ropes of seed pouring in. His muscles gave way to that same relaxation, exhausted, slumping after the climax; and he saw the bird do the same, limply settling into his place as he came hands-free from all the stimulation.
They both remained there, tranquil, empty, until Marath slid him back off his cocks, took the effort of cleaning up while the bird was completely incapacitated, and then held him close on the couch and gently brought him back up, undoing the fantasy, the structure, the conditioning, exactly as he was before. It took him a couple minutes, dazed, sipping on a glass of water before he fully returned to awareness.
The snake wrapped him up and gave him a soft squeeze.
“Feeling alright, Kordys?” he asked.
“Mmmmhhh… yeah, extremely. That was very, very good.” he said. The grogginess was merely exhaustion and satisfaction, no longer the haze on his mind.
“How did it feel getting made to play a role? Convincing enough?”
“Until you woke me up, I would have been ready to fight tooth and nail to ensure you were taken down.” he said with a grin.
The snake chuckled, something Kordys felt as much as he heard with their chests pressed together.
“But yeah. Wonderful stuff being convinced of that being true, the idea that I’d managed to try to trick you into revealing something by being flirtatious. It was easy to let the details wash off and make it all make sense, like a dream.”
Marath’s tongue was flicking in and out with the glowing praise.
“I… might have a thing for playing into that more domineering side around someone I really like, and you seemed to really drive those thoughts forward.” he said.
Kordys smirked.
“Look, the sense of eager reward and honor I felt getting my head shoved down like I was going to eagerly worship at those cocks wasn’t entirely from the trance. You wouldn’t even need to hypnotize-”
“But I would anyway, and we’d both be all the more aroused for it.” Marath said, cutting him off with a grin. They both had a laugh.
“Really though, when we have sessions like that… feel free to lean into that heavy brainwashing dominance, because… that hit me just as hard as you. The snaps being worked in. The title.”
The serpent tilted his neck to rest on the bird, cuddling closer.
“I’ll never turn that down. Getting to try that has been exhilarating…” he said, thinking a moment. “And it wouldn’t hurt to casually affirm it and keep you trained now, would it?”
“Hmmm?” Kordys asked.
“Say ‘Not at all, Master.’” Marath said, voice in a low tone.
A beak opened, closed, and then opened again to speak.
“Not at all, Master. I think that would be lovely.”