#Hypnovember 2026 - 03 - Enslaver Automaton

Copyright © 2026 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

Comments to skip@reddywhip.org

Keywords: rubber, hypnosis, bondage, 2nd person, mind control, brainwash

The man in black walked into the Cellblock and walked past the front and into the back bar. He clearly knew where he was going. To call him “the man in black” is both derivative and reductive, but is all the name you need to know him by.

The man in black stood five foot ten inches tall in his well-shined black laced black leather boots coming half-way up his calves. Continuing up his leg was a well polished black latex catsuit which must have been neck-entry, because there was no visible zipper anywhere on his body. His hands were covered in thick black industrial rubber gloves, with gauntlets that came more than half-way up his forearm.

From his neck up was a form fitting latex hood that looked tucked under the suit, but you couldn’t see the transition in the dark light of the bar. The only hint of skin underneath the hood was visible by the mouth opening. There was no hint of holes for his eyes, but he was able to navigate the patrons and tables through to the back bar.

Stepping up to the bar, the man in black ordered a beer, pulling money out of the rubber bandoleer slung over his shoulder. The heavy rubber hood and padded mitts hanging off the bottom of the bandoleer was the final thing that got your attention. The whole package was why when you saw him walk into the Cellbock, you followed him to the back bar.

#Hypnovember 2026 - 02 - Caged

Copyright © 2026 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

Comments to skip@reddywhip.org

Keywords: violence, 1st person, bondage, chastity, curse, magic, non-consensual

It’s been a year since that pansy Irish twink cursed me.  Yeah, it’s me again.  I’m that fool who ended up with a tattoo above my ass saying basically “If I fuck somebody, they get my muscles.”  Who thinks of this kind of shit?

Well I changed gyms, obviously.  A trainer, and careful food planning and I was … well I wasn’t where I a year earlier, but I was making progress.  I was fit again.  I had decent muscle tone, strength, a little size, and my skin had finally gotten to where I wasn’t flapping in the wind whenever I ran.

The tattoo?  I tried four different tattoo removal facilities to get rid of it.  For the first three, whenever I got in for an appointment, the equipment was suddenly out of commission.  For the fourth, when I finally got there the laser practically exploded into sparks like on one of those stupid sci-fi shows.

Sex?  Oh, I could jerk off.  That kept the edge off, but it was nothing like sticking my dick in some nice, tight, fuckboy’s ass.  I tried hooking up at the bathhouse a few times for just some mutual masturbation.  The fuckers threw me out because I backhanded a guy who tried to go down on me.  Hey, it was self defense.

#Hypnovember 2026 - 01 - Cursed

Copyright © 2026 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

Comments to skip@reddywhip.org

Trigger warning: non-consensual sex

Keywords: bondage, non-consensual, anal, curse, magic, 1st person, muscle theft

I had the night’s toy in my sling. I took this Irish twink home from the gym locker room after I saw him eyeing up my six-foot ripped body. He was compliant enough when I put the leather gag on him, and when I got his feet into the stirrups. He started trying to twist and buck when I used the my old iron cuffs on his wrists to keep him in place.

I lubed up my cock, seven inches and girthy, then fucked him hard and fast. He looked beaten down and was whimpering as I finished. I even gave him a double bicep flex as I unloaded into him. It was clear to me he was loving it.

I laughed at him, “You twinks are all the same. All you want is a real man with real muscle to use you. You’d never catch me with a dick up my ass.” Of course I didn’t even try to get him off. He was here for me.

My cock softening but still hard in this weak looking twink, I leaned over his now-limp body in the sling and uncuffed his hands. I noticed then that the cold iron seemed to have really irritated this waifish boy’s wrists. I genuinely didn’t care; I wanted him out of my place since I was done. I undid the gag and had just pulled it out of his mouth when he practically spasmed. His legs suddenly wrapped around my hips, pulling my cock further into him.

Story:Alone in a crowd

Alone in a crowd

Bondage, public

Copyright © 2021 by John "Skip" Reddy, aka “Reddywhp”. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.
Comments to skip@reddywhip.org

9PM is usually an early arrival for most leather bars, but I had instructions to follow. I dropped off my jacket at Abyss’ coat check. All I had on me now was my ID, coat check tag, and the equipment I was told to bring with me.

I’ve been chatting with Jack online for months, and yet I’ve never seen his face. The idiot, me, doesn’t know why I even started talking to him. That said, he’s managed to get into my head and knows what makes me tick.

Walking in towards the back room, I found the main lights were still on. That made it easier for me to find the place Jack described. It was a bench just inside the back room. Bar staff were tidying up after something, and they were about to kill the lights, so I had to work quickly. A quick inspection told me that Jack knew the place. The bench had rings embedded in the floor, and on the wall at varying heights.

Out of my bag came the shiny black biothane ankle restraints to go over my bleachers and combat boots. They buckled into place and locked on with their small integrated locks. I then locked the rings of the restraints to the anchor rings embedded in the floor. My feet were now fixed about a meter wide apart on the floor.

Surprise Summer Camp Beating

Contains: bondage, KO, beating, gun, cbt

Copyright © 2005 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

Comments to skip (at) reddywhip.org

Western Michigan, September 2005

Sitting at the top of dish hill, it was your standard Saturday morning at Inferno. I'd enjoyably overslept, and so missed the early continental breakfast, and brunch hadn't been put out yet, so I was hungry. Mike, had popped off for a bit. I don't quite remember what his excuse was, but he had absconded back to his room. His other half was still sitting around chatting with the group.

Five minutes passed killing time, there were 5 or 6 of us sitting around killing time until brunch when finally, the exodus to brunch began. Still no sign of Mike. Of course, Mike & I had talked about maybe doing a take-down scene, and this was the bait. Knowing my track record with take-down scenes, I figured this would be another flop. When Mike's partner got up and suggested I come along with to get Mike for brunch, I followed along. I more than half-believed that nothing would happen.

The Christmas KO

Contains: bondage, breath control, edge play, ko

Copyright © 2003 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

Comments to skip (at) reddywhip.org

I came home from Christmas dinner with some friends this past year and was particularly horny and feeling pretty aggressive.  I decided that I would take my Christmas present by force this year.  I got home and went online where I luckily found Ron.  We talked and I told him that I was in a mood to hurt someone, and to come over.  It was a brief chat, and he quickly agreed.  We switch off from time to time, and often wrestle for dominance.  This time, I was going to alter the balance of power.  I told him he should be wearing some old and worn clothing. He said he'd be over shortly.

I changed my clothes quickly. Off came the sweater and slacks.  On went the desert BDUs, black combat boots, and grey sleeveless t-shirt.  I wanted to have all my supplies on hand and ready when he came in the door.  I threw the Gebauer canister of ethyl in the right thigh pocket.  The EMT shears went in my left thigh pocket, along with a rag.  I took my grey Russian gas mask, and stuffed it into the back of my pants, hanging over the side.  Finally, I stowed rolls of duct tape throughout the apartment.  There's no such thing as too much duct tape.  If I didn't know better, I would swear you could smell it throughout my place.  God, I love that smell.

On call garage cocksucker

Copyright © 2018 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

Tags: bdsm, real experience, chastity, cbt, oral

Comments to skip (at) reddywhip.org

So I was chatting with GearedUpDude on Twitter that afternoon.  He’d been responding to my chastity tweets, and we hadn’t been in touch in a while, so I said “hi”.  I'd just hit 30 days locked in a device.  It was my longest time locked in a chastity device ever.  We chatted for a while before I dropped him an opening.

Reddywhp: I’m turning into a cock hungry faggot. It’s … quite the head trip. Almost following orders from any drive by on Scruff.

Reddywhp: I’m surprised how suggestible I’m finding myself. And I signed up for the rest of the calendar year. *facepalm*

GearedUpDude: feel free to swing by and let me use a boot on your crotch. just open the backyard gate, enter the garage, strip down to a jock, send the text, bow your head and wait

Skip's First Inferno, the closing

Copyright © 2018 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

Tags: bdsm, real experience, chicago hellfire club, Inferno

Comments to skip (at) reddywhip.org

Towards the end of my first Inferno, the afternoon of Tuesday, September 12, 2000, I was 25 and having a blast.  I was only supposed to be there for Session A, but in a Sunday morning moment of clarity, I got my work vacation extended and Inferno Registration found space for me to stay for Session B.

That Tuesday afternoon, I was watching Jon beating on my friend Ryan.  Jon had been introduced to me by Mike B as "one of my favorite monsters at Inferno", he was this enigma to me - so intense.  He was punching Ryan's pecs with precision and focused attention; Ryan was taking it and smiling.

When Jon decided to give Ryan a break, he saw me watching nearby and motioned as if preparing to punch me.  I puffed my chest out in response, and he gave me a quick jab - which of course momentarily winded me because I'd never really taken a punch before - play or otherwise.

Story: Uninformed Consent

Bondage, ambiguous consent, hypnosis

Copyright © 2014 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

Comments to skip (at) reddywhip.org

Uninformed Consent

Chapter 1,  Relaxing

I answered the door the second time he rang the bell.  He was patient, waiting a full five minutes before he rang the second time.  The boy was standing there waiting quietly with his hands held behind his back.

Story: Shut Doors Open Again

Bondage, nonconsensual, abduction, anal, mind control

Copyright © 2014 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

What follows is a piece of fiction. Any similarity to living persons is coincidental. The author does not condone the activities described herein, though he has been known to enjoy similar activities himself .

Comments to skip (at) reddywhip.org

Shut Doors Open Again

The door slammed shut behind him.  I sat down on the couch and curled into a ball.   Hugging my knees to my chest, I barely succeeded in suppressing the tears as he left me.

The fucking bastard.

Hypnosis: it can work

This is a re-telling of an experience I had with at and during Hypnocon 2008.  Hypnocon is a gathering of gay men interested in erotic hypnosis in the United States.  The conference moves around from year to year.  In October 2008, it was in Washington DC.

For @atlloki: Switching it up

In my trolling for blog topics, @atlloki asked me "As a switch could you/would you sub in front of or to someone you've topped?"

My short answer is that I don't switch with individuals: Whether I top or bottom, I generally fall into a role with that man.  When I submit, I tend to stay in that role with him, or at least want to.  When I top, I enjoy that experience and fear that if I try subbing to him, I won't want to return to topping him.

It's more than fear, it's also a comfort level.  Defined roles mean knowing where you stand with someone and knowing what's expected of you.  Call me conservative, but predictability, while it might not be sexy, is certainly comfortable.

Other considerations that may affect switching with and around others - ongoing relationship like I have with my partner, negotiations about what will be going on (I have experience the type of scenes I dish out as a top, but I don't enjoy them myself).  My husband and I don't have a power exchange relationship at all.  We made a conscious decision to remain complete equals.  As such, my machismo gets in the way when I bottom when he's around but not directly involved.  I obsess about what he's thinking of the things I enjoy doing with others, worried that he'd get jealous of what someone else is doing with me, (or more likely that he'd be jealous that it's not being done to him).

The answer to the question really depends on the men in question.  I'm just an emotionally delicate man, I guess.

For @johnnygear: Tops do make mistakes

In my trolling for blog topics, @johnnygear asked (by way of @atllokie) "How do you deal with pain the dom didn't intend?"  (ex: loss of circulation, strap pushing in wrong spot..)

This is something that I'm not actually very good at.  I'm a huge advocate of communication, I like safe-words where the words mean what they say (ie, no means no, stop means stop).  However, when it comes to letting a top know I'm having trouble, I'm really bad.

It's a bit passive or maybe even passive aggressive, but I'll start with shifting around.  It's a combination of trying to adjust myself so that maybe I can cope with or correct whatever is not working right and letting the top know there's something wrong.  I've bottomed for such an array of people, I never know if a given discomfort is intended or accidental.  However, I'll have difficulty actually saying that there's something wrong;  I'll hope that he'll see my shuffling and twitching and either ask or realize the problem and fix it.

Unfortunately, I really have trouble saying I'm having a problem.  I feel bad when I have to tell a top that something's wrong.  It's like I've somehow failed him.  It's worse when there's an audience in the room.  I don't want the top to lose face by having a scene appear go bad and I don't want to seem like a whiny or pushy bottom.  There's also the bit of machismo that I'm not gonna quit, not going to let a little problem ruin a scene (even for very large values of "little").

So kids, do as I say, and not as I do.  Talk to your top and tell him what's bothering you.  It's part of the learning process for you as bottom, him as a top, and you as a pair of playmates.  If he intends you to deal with it, he can tell you, or just gag you.

For @skylos: Do it with the things on the Discovery Channel

On twitter a couple of weeks ago, I asked for suggestions for blog topics.  In response, @Skylos asked "ever done a blog about thoughts about bestiality"?  I don't think I ever have.

For clarity, bestiality is is the practice of sexual activity between humans and non-human animals (ie, dogs, cats, sheep, rhinoceros).

When someone asks me what I'm into, I start by saying what I'm not into.  "No women, children, real animals, scat.  Nothing that involves a doctor, hospital, mortuary visit after the scene is done".  The "real" qualification is because I am, and hang out with, a lot of furries - people who hang out in anthropomorphic costumes (that's the short-short-short description).

So if I like furries, why not real animals?  Humans use animals as pets, as transportation, as food, for therapy.  What is the real reason I'm squicked by it?  How does using an animal for sex differ?

Straw-man arguments

• A vegan could argue that using an animal for sex would be like using it for food.  I'm not vegan.
• An animal cannot given consent and so using one for sex would be rape.  Then they also can't consent to being killed and eaten, and they sure are tasty at the churrascaria.
• It's against the "word of god".  Clearly, Leviticus 20:15-16 cover this, saying "don't screw the sheep!".  Yeah, but Levitcus 20:13 says "don't be gay", and I clearly like the cock.
• The Goldilocks dilemma: too big or too small.  Yeah, but some really are the right size.

Okay, it's easy to come up with arguments to knock down.  So what's the real reason?

Health is the big one.  There are enough known viruses, bacteria, parasites that can travel from human to animal, and back again, that this is an unreasonable risk.  The potential unknown contagions to be transmitted are too large of a risk.  An animal cannot be expected to tell you it's health history, can't tell you what it's been exposed to.  No animal can put on a condom and even if you put it on the beast yourself, you can't expect it to stay on.

So health is the main reason.  It's the reason that bestiality is a non-negotiable limit.

Why else, though?  There's no intelligence.  I need to know that the entity I'm engaging is a self-aware, reasoning thing (with a cock attached).  So even if we could 100% eliminate the health concerns (and we can't), I wouldn't be interested.  Hell, even if I'm playing with an anonymous other, there's still an intelligence there; a head-game of some sort is going on.

Sex for me is more than just a physical act.  It's a mental and emotion exchange as well as a physical one.  If it's just the physical, I could use my hand for that.  (If I weren't on a masturbatory moratorium, that is.)

Now if you could eliminate the health concerns and provide the intelligence requirement, I'd be happy.  Say you could provide me a 6'5" anthropomorphic rhinoceros in bleachers, boots, bondage mitts, chained to a wall?  I might find a way to enjoy that. :)

Words are never safe

So my friend and partner's boy, the rubber freak, recently wrote about safe-words.  He and I have some of the same ideas about safe-words.  I decided to comment on them as well, but first I want to establish a base reference.

What's a safe-word?

In BDSM play, a safe-word is something you can say while playing that can tell the other person that you need to stop or slow down.  It's usually a word or phrase that the participants would not use in normal conversation.

But why would you want a safe-word?  Well, playing in BDSM involves occasional ambiguous consent.  There are times when a participant may want to say "no" in play and not actually mean it.  Also, it's a method to give a participant a way to feel in control, able to end or alter how the scene is going.

Effectively, safe-words become an alternative to direct communication between the participants.

There are alternatives to safe-words, frequently for people who are for one reason or another are unable to communicate verbally.  Some examples are: a specific series of nonverbal noises such as three quick grunt in a row; holding a ball in the hand and dropping it to signify a concern; snapping fingers; or smacking the hand against the table, chair, or thigh.  However, these alternatives to safe-words become more than safe-words because they're substituting as the primary method of communication.

Concerns about safe-words

What I see as the first failing of the safe-word is that people get the impression that a safe-word will protect them from a bad scene.  There's an unspoken assumption there that the safe-word will be honored.  Pepole need to remember that safe-words are not magic-words.  The important part of a safe-word working is that both people are trustworthy and respect each other.

The second failing I see in safe-words surrounds the idea of being able to say "no" and not mean it.  It's essentially planning to deceive your partner(s) in play.  By establishing that "no" doesn't actually mean "no", it teaches the perception that other words don't mean what's expected of them as well.  It creates a potential ambiguity in what the participants mean and the opportunity for miscommunication.

A further failing in the "no" no meaning "no" is when "no" actually does mean "no".  When someone's engaged in heavy BD/SM, they may experience intense endorphin rushes and emotional stimulation.  In such a high stress situation, the various participants may not remember to use their safeword and will resort to "no" and "stop", because they've spent 99.9% of their speaking life using words to mean what they actually mean.

Continuing the line of thought of words and their meaning: if my safe-word is "banana", then "banana" becomes the equivalent of "no".  If I wanted to say "no", and now "banana" means "no", what's to keep me from saying "banana" instead, especially if I'm being trained that "banana" means "no"?  I'll end up just as likely to say "banana" as "no".  I might say "banana" without meaning it.

What does this mean to me?

For me, BDSM involves building trust and communication.  To build up to more intense play requires establishing a strong understanding of one another's limits and abilities.  To have that mutual trust built on a pretense of play-acting means that the base of the relationship is shaky.


I see safewords as a barrier to honest and open communication.  When asked about safe-words, my response is "I don't use safe-words."  What I mean by that is "no" means "no".