The Downward Spiral
All These Roadworks
The Downward Spiral
Stories of Hypnotic Ruination
© 2021, 2024 All These Roadworks
The author asserts their right to be identified as the creator of this work under the name “All These Roadworks”.
All images in this book, including cover art, were created by All These Roadworks.
All characters in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters involved in sexual situations are intended to be aged 18 years or over, and any implication to the contrary is an unintentional miscommunication.
The events and themes presented in this story are for the purpose of erotic fantasy. They are not intended to depict actual events that have happened, or should happen. The author believes firmly that real sexual relationships should only occur between consenting adults, and be built on the principles of respect, communication, honesty, and risk-aware enthusiastic consent.
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Table of Contents
Foreword
Back to School
Be Honest
The Bimbo System
Biting Her Finger
Bring Her Roses
Chastity Incentive
Customer Satisfaction
Disgusted By His Porn
Drugs Can Ruin A Career
Fraud Detection
Good Friends
Inhibited Art
Insecure Clothing
The Inventor
Jennifer’s 22nd
Just One Date
Kayla’s Pregnancy
Luther’s Daughter
Mouthy
Not Whores
Oral Fixation
Poor Choice of Men
Presentation
Psych Bitches
The Popularity App
Sensory Hypnotism
Thinking With Her Cunt
Top Student
Trouble With Women
Wardrobe Malfunction
“When He Sees You In Your Wedding Bed...”
Bonus: Project Toybox
Foreword
It’s a fantasy, not an instruction manual.
The stories collected in this volume are kinky fantasies. It’s normal to fetishise the forbidden. It can be a healthy way of processing trauma or frustration from our daily lives. It can be fun, satisfying, and exciting. Don’t feel ashamed to enjoy them.
But it’s the responsibility of everyone – and particularly people with these fantasies – to work to create a world where everyone – and, specifically, women – are safe, respected, and able to indulge their sexuality without shame or fear, whether that means consensually engaging in wonderful fucked-up kink, or living their entire life without ever encountering it.
Satisfying, sustainable kink can only be built on a foundation of firm respect for boundaries, respectful communication, and positive, explicit, enthusiastic consent. That’s a world where everyone kinky will find it easier to find partners and hook up for the interactions they enjoy, and where those who aren’t interested won’t be bothered – and that includes people who might be interested, but not now, or not under these conditions, or not with you.
Don’t let your kinks be your politics.
If you don’t already have anyone to share your kinks with in real-life, get involved in your local kink scene. Join an online community. Be polite, ask what the local rules are, listen to people who know what they’re doing before you go charging in yourself, introduce yourself and be prepared to make friends before you make partners. Confidence is sexy; not being able to hear a “no” is not.
I’m not your manifesto, and I’m not anyone’s plan for a functional society. Read, enjoy - and then go out and be fantastic, safe, respectful kinksters.
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Speaking of which – if you obtained this document without paying for it…
Writing takes time. It’s easier if I’m paid for it. Please consider visiting my website and leaving a tip; buying this story collection or a different one; or subscribing.
alltheseroadworks.com
Back to School
Amanda had some regrets about how her life had turned out. She’d never completed school, instead dropping out to work in her father’s restaurant, eventually marrying a nice but boring man and having two children.
Feeling depressed on her 30th birthday, she went to see a psychologist.
“You know, you could re-enrol in school as a mature student,” the psychologist told her. “You could get your graduation certificate…”
Amanda blushed. “I’d be too embarrassed…” she demurred.
“Well,” the psychologist said, “I could give you some hypnotic encouragement to get over that embarrassment…”
Amanda let herself be convinced, and allowed the psychologist to lead her into a hypnotic trance.
“When you wake up,” the psychologist told her, “you will want to re-enrol in school, and do all the things in school that you wish you had done the first time…”
When Amanda woke up, she thanked him, full of enthusiasm, and went off immediately to enrol as a mature student.
Only, as it turned out, deep down it wasn’t her *failure to graduate* that Amanda had regretted. Deep down, if she was really honest with herself, she regretted that she hadn’t gone to one of those schools with the slutty little uniforms for the girls, and that she hadn’t gone around fucking every boy, girl, and teacher she could see…
She had intended to enrol somewhere specifically for adults, so when she found herself enrolling at the school her own son and daughter went to, she became alarmed – but she couldn’t stop herself. And when she bought an adult-sized uniform, even though mature students weren’t required to wear them, she got even more worried. And when she found herself deliberately forgetting to wear a bra and panties with it, she panicked, and tried to stop herself leaving the house…
… but she couldn’t stop herself, and soon she was on the school grounds, everyone looking at her whorish outfit in disbelief, as she pressed herself up against one of her 18-year-old classmates, stroked his cock through his uniform pants, and asked him whether he might be interested in taking her out behind the gym to show her exactly how much cum he could put inside her whorish pussy…
Be Honest
When Shae got caught shoplifting, she agreed to take hypnotherapy as part of her anti-court diversion. The hypnotist led her through a series of suggestions - “Be honest with your parents”, “Be honest with your friends”, “Be honest with your employers”, “Be honest with the police”.
They were well intentioned suggestions, but the problem was the things Shae wasn’t being honest about.
She left the hypnotist’s office and went straight to her father’s place - he lived alone since he had split from her mother - and knocked on the door.
She fought with herself as she waited for her father to come to the door, trying to run away, her face bright red with knowledge of what she was about to do, but her compulsion to be honest with her father was overpowering, so instead she pulled off her shirt and bra to leave herself bare-titted on her father’s doorstep.
When he opened the door, she smiled at him, tits bare, and said, “Daddy, I have to be honest with you. I’ve been fantasising about having sex with you since I was 15.”
He welcomed her into his house, and before the sun rose the next morning he had cum in her pussy twice, in her ass once, in her mouth once, and on her face and tits once.
It became a regular thing, to fuck her father. She wanted to stop it, but she couldn’t help being honest about how the wrongness of it made her wet, or how if he forced her she might say no but she would really mean yes, and so again and again she would find herself orgasming embarrassingly as her father used her like a whore.
Soon it became a problem on another level. None of her friends knew she was fucking her father. None of them knew what a cheap whore she was being. In fact, it occurred to her that none of them knew what her pussy looked like, and that was a secret she had been keeping for years. So she invited them round to her house for a party, and when they arrived they found her completely nude, with her father’s cum still wet on her face and her breasts, and she was very open and honest about where it had come from and what a slut she was.
After that party, she had less friends, but the ones she kept - mostly male - had a keen interest in what her tits and her pussy looked like, so she would regularly show them (in the interests of honesty) and then they would want to know what it would be like to fuck her and cum inside her, and she decided that wasn’t a secret she should keep either...
Being honest with employers about what a slut she was turned out to be very embarrassing, but not the problem she thought it might be. In fact, she found a job very quickly. Admittedly, it involved sitting nude under a manager’s desk with his cock in her mouth all day, and he never used her name but instead just called her “bitch”, but it paid well, and she liked the taste of his cum.
Her last task was to be honest with the police. She attended the station a few weeks after her first sexual encounter with her father, and told the desk sergeant about the scary fantasies she had about being raped by police officers. He took her down to the cells and made some of them come true, by stripping her, handcuffing her, beating her a little, violating her pussy and ass with his nightstick, before fucking first her face and then her cunt.
Afterwards, he had her give a presentation to the other local police officers, and some of them took a turn, and then after that it became common if she was walking or driving anywhere in town for police to randomly pull her over to sexually use and abuse her.
All in all, the diversion had been a massive success, the police thought. Shae was much more honest now, everyone in town liked her better, and since the hypnotherapy she hadn’t gone shoplifting even once...
The Bimbo System
Ava chose a bad day to get her boob job.
It was the day that Finn had been fired from his job as a receptionist at the plastic surgery clinic. He probably deserved it – he hadn’t taken the job very seriously – and it wasn’t like he cared about the job – it was just to make money until he finished his neuropsychology degree. But still, he took it in bad grace.
After arguing with the clinic manager, Finn stormed out – but not before fulfilling one last task. When women came out of surgery for breast enhancements, there was supposed to be a video playing, telling them all about the benefits and safety features of their new fake tits. Finn was supposed to start the video playing – but instead, in a fit of spite, he swapped it for a different video file that he’d been working on as a side project in neuropsychology class.
When Ava woke up, groggy, vaguely aware of the weight of her new fake boobs but still feeling the effects of the anaesthetic, there was the noise of static in her ears, and pictures playing on a video screen, changing too quickly for her to follow. Confused, not fully awake, she stared at the screen and let the images wash over her.
It was a hypnosis system that Finn had designed. It conveyed five key subliminal messages to its viewer – plus a sixth one, that Ava didn’t process at first. The first five were:
NOT GIRLS BUT SLUTS
SLUTS NEED BIG TITS
SLUTS WITH BIG TITS ARE COWS
COWS NEED TO BE RAPED
COWS NEED TO LEARN THEIR PLACE
By the time Ava had recovered from her surgery fully, the ideas had burned themselves into her brain. Spacy, not really understanding what she was doing, Ava asked for a copy of the video she had just watched as she checked out, and the clinic manager gave her a copy of Finn’s file without noticing the substitution.
Ava wandered that day in a haze. She had wanted fake tits as a present to herself, to maybe find a new husband after a career prioritising her job as an executive over her love life. But now she knew she was a slut, with big tits, and therefore a cow. And therefore she had new needs.
By nightfall, she had found her way to a nightclub, and there she was able to rub up against an anonymous man on the dancefloor enough that when she lured him out to an alleyway and then denied him sex, he was prepared to rip off her panties and rape her against a brick wall. She orgasmed hard – she needed this. Afterwards, she had no panties, but that just made it easier to go back into the club and cocktease another man into violating her in the men’s toilets.
As she tried to sleep that night, she found herself crying, without knowing why. At some level, being raped twice felt… wrong. But she was a cow slut and she needed to be raped, and she had been. She knew her place. She was a good girl.
She fell asleep, and dreamt confused dreams.
In the morning, she got up and went about the house nude. She stared dully at books on her shelf – “Modern Feminism” – “The Independent Woman” – “Breaking Through The Glass Ceiling”. She took them all down from the shelves and spent the morning ripping them up, while masturbating. It felt good.
Afterwards she placed an advertisement in the local adult classifieds. “I won’t consent, but I won’t complain. Rape me tonight. $300 an hour,” and her telephone number. Then she rang her work and quit.
She spent the rest of the day converting the rooms of her house into makeshift cages, each capable of holding a prisoner securely. It took a fair bit of hardware, and she forgot to put on clothes before going to the hardware store, but none of the all-male employees there challenged her, and she happily wandered around buying metal poles and padlocks while alternately rubbing her pussy and squeezing her tits.
Squeezing her tits was important, because she was a cow, and she needed to make milk.
That night she visited the nightclub four times. The first time was to get raped, because she couldn’t think properly until she had been used non-consensually. After that, though, she hit on women, not men. She’d slut up against drunk girls, then lead them out into an alleyway, where she’d gag them unconscious with chloroform before driving them back to her house and locking them in a cage, bound and gagged.
Soon she had three prisoners, all groggy from being drugged. She set each one up with a computer screen and speakers, and started Finn’s file playing for them.
Shortly thereafter, her customers started arriving. Several men had replied to Ava’s advertisement. She’d originally intended to let them rape her, but now she had another idea, and led them into the cages. She assured the men that the bound women were professional whores offering customers a rape fantasy, and then left them alone with the women. “Just don’t remove their gags,” she told them.
The muffled screams of the women as they were raped were quiet pleasing to Ava. Each of the women were used at least three times that night. Ava took two customers herself.
By the morning, Ava figured a night of chloroform, rape and hypnosis should have done to the girls what the tape had done to her. But to be sure, she kept them another two days. When the girls didn’t have customers, Ava raped them herself. She’d never been with a woman before, but they were all sluts, and she was a slut herself, and a cow, and cows needed to be raped.
After three days, she saw the glazed look in their eyes that she wanted. She let the sluts out and sent each of them with their rape earnings to go and get boob jobs. When they came back, they were eager to get started on abducting more sluts to teach them their place, and Ava sent them out happily to nightclubs.
Meanwhile, Ava made some more phone calls, and soon she had a delivery of industrial milking machines and lactation-inducing hormones on the way. She also commissioned a series of electrical shock-collars that would shock a girl wearing them if she made any sound other than a cow-like “moo”, or if she raised her neck any higher above her heels than a kneeling position.
Ava’s converts brought back seven new sluts, and she kept these ones in cages for a full week before letting them go. Her rape brothel was becoming profitable, and she kept any slut that wasn’t being fucked connected to a milking machine, so soon she would have a marketable supply of cow-milk too.
Converted sluts abducted more sluts, and so forth. Soon Ava’s girls were running their own houses, and their own milk barns. Ava thought of it as the Bimbo System – cows turning sluts into more cows, expanding exponentially. When she thought of a world where all cows knew their place, she would almost orgasm on the spot.
That was when the final hypnotic instruction kicked in:
THREE MONTHS AFTER YOU WATCH THIS, YOU WILL FULLY REGAIN YOUR OLD PERSONALITY – BUT YOU WILL BE UNABLE TO ALTER ANY ASPECT OF YOUR NEW LIFE OR BEHAVIOUR.
This surfaced in Ava’s mind mid-rape. Her customer was balls-deep in her cunt, and was squeezing her tits pretty hard, when Ava suddenly started to sob and scream, and he had to repeatedly slap her to make her stop. She choked back her sobs until he came inside her, and paid.
Stop. Stop. Run away, Ava thought to herself. She wanted to flee her house, and everything she had created, and go somewhere where she could pretend none of this had ever happened.
But instead, Ava got up, and went down the corridor to the newest girl’s cage. She straddled the nude slut and began spanking the slut’s pussy until she felt the slut’s tongue beginning to lick the customer’s cum from Ava’s fuckhole. Then she leaned down and began to lick the slut’s own cunt in return.
No. I’m not a lesbian. I’m a feminist. I can’t enslave girls. Why am I doing this? Why can’t I stop?
But she couldn’t stop, not until she had orgasmed from raping her prisoner. She showed another male customer in to violate the girl once she had done, and then walked down the corridor, knelt, put on her shock collar, and connected her swollen, milk-filled fake tits to the milking machine.
A part of her mind realised that her first three converts would have the same instruction kick in later tonight. A part of her wanted to see the looks on their faces when they did. She wanted to be raping them when they did. Her cunt was suddenly very wet.
The machine sucked painfully on her tits. No, her mind begged. No…
But what Ava said was, “Moooo….”
Biting Her Finger
Leah was probably the world’s most famous fucktoy after signing up for the reality show “Real Life Extreme Hypno”. Her episode was called “The Making of a Slut”, and in it she confessed to the camera that she had near-constant rape fantasies but she was too scared to act on them. The program then showed her being implanted with a simple hypnotic trigger - when she was talking to a man, and liked and consented to the idea of being raped by him, she would bite her little finger without realising she was doing it. The final segment of the show depicted her having several surprising encounters of dubious consent with men and gushing about how happy they had made her.
The makers of the show, however, had decided to have a little more fun with Leah than that. The real problem she had gone to the show about was her habit of biting her little finger when she was nervous. The makers had taken her straight to hypnosis, but instead of dealing with that problem at all, they had instead implanted two other suggestions - that knowing she was about to be raped would make her pussy gushingly wet, whether she wanted it or not, and that she would be completely unable to talk about her real experience on the show, or say anything to suggest she hadn’t consented to or enjoyed any sex she had.
After it aired, everyone knew that Leah biting her finger was her signal that she wanted to be non-consensually fucked, and Leah couldn’t say a word to suggest otherwise. Those who took her up on her “invitation” found her cunt wet and willing, even if Leah herself struggled and cried, and afterwards she would smilingly thank them and say she had enjoyed it, all of which confirmed their understanding of her sexuality.
There was an upside for Leah. By the end of the first month of being repeatedly raped by friends (and family) she began to associate arousal with being nervous and with being used non-consensually, and she started to get wet long before her mouth found her little finger. More and more often she found herself orgasming from her abuse, and more and more often her thanks afterwards were genuine and heartfelt.
It was two months after her program aired that she realised she had begun biting her finger deliberately, while looking directly in men’s eyes, her pussy already wet and needy...
Bring Her Roses
Staci and her boyfriend argued a lot. He complained that she wouldn’t be a good, well-behaved slut for him, and she complained that he wasn’t romantic. In the end, she agreed to go to “couples counselling” with a therapist he recommended.
“So what you want,” said the counsellor to Staci, “is for him to give you flowers once in a while, and tell you that he appreciates you.” She agreed that was correct.
“And what you want,” he said to her boyfriend, “is for Staci to give you oral sex, to dress sexier, to be more deferential, and to let you know where she is if she’s gone for a long time?” Her boyfriend agreed that was correct also.
“Well, if you’ll agree to do those things for each other, I think you’ll get along better. Staci, will you agree to seal the deal with a little hypnosis session, to help you stick to the agreement?”
Reluctantly, she said she would, and allowed the counsellor to hypnotise her - which was, of course, an enormous mistake. Once she was under, the counsellor - a close friend of her boyfriend - told her to strip, and they watched and laughed as she slowly removed her clothes and exposed her tits and cunt. Once she was nude they took turns holding her down while the other fucked her, and when they were done they told her to forget it had happened.