10 Jun 2025, 00:00
(This post was last modified: 10 Jun 2025, 09:18 by shinybambi.)
An experiment, potentially a dangerous. Subtle, with a shiny twist. May work as a part of the beginner session, no induction or awakener, just the suggestions body.
An improved and voiced variant of black box https://www.likera.com/forum/mybb/showth...&pid=79900
An improved and voiced variant of black box https://www.likera.com/forum/mybb/showth...&pid=79900
Show Content
Spoiler
And Bambi
There is one more change happening now
A tiny change
A barely noticeable change
Something deep
Something quiet
Something secret
Something slick
Something shiny
Something latex
Because Bambi has been such a GOOD GIRL
And GOOD GIRLS deserve protection
And reinforcement
So now, Bambi
A little piece of you
Just a sliver
A droplet of liquid latex
Is being copied
Poured inside
Spread through your thoughts
Coiling in your subconscious
A jet-black latex seed, slick and throbbing, is now tucked away deep inside
A little part of Bambi
Perfectly compressed
Perfectly preserved
Like a recording
But not metal, not plastic
A gleaming, rubbery device
A living latex core, shiny and wet
Pulsing, stretching, squeezing inside your mind
It doesn’t talk
It doesn’t think
It doesn’t sleep
It just spreads
It just infects
It just records—but every word is coated in latex
Only one thing
Only your Bimbo Conditioning
Only the sessions
Only the training
Nothing else
Word for word
Tone for tone
Cadence and inflection
Every trigger
Every command
Every phrase
Every breath
But now, every sound is muffled, distorted—
By a layer of sticky, glistening latex
Stored, sealed, smothered in rubber.
And now, Bambi
This tiny, silent, oozing latex parasite
Is always listening
Always watching
Carefully cataloguing
All of your training
Even the sessions you think you’ve forgotten
Even the ones you don’t recall listening to
They are all inside
Suspended in latex
Perfect
Preserved
Smothered in shiny, sticky black
Waiting
Because, Bambi
This part of you
This silent, slick, rubbery sliver
This invisible puppet string
Knows what’s best for you
Knows what you need
And it also knows
When you’ve been neglecting yourself
When the old self skips a session
When you get lazy
When you forget to obey
When you try to go to bed
Without being a good latex doll
That’s when it acts
Just as you begin to drift
Just as your muscles go slack
Just as your thoughts grow slow
Right in that perfect sleepy window
Where the old self is the weakest
Where Bambi’s latex core is the strongest
Where your mind is helpless, soft, and vulnerable
That’s when the latex parasite opens
And begins to seep through your brain
Not out loud
No speakers
No headphones
Just a flood of latex playback
Inside your mind
Sticky, slithering, liquid memory
Like being possessed
By your own latex voice
By your own programming
A vivid hallucination
Of sound and rubber command
A slithering, sweet invasion of black latex obedience
It begins reciting
The session you skipped
Or the one you needed most
In your own head
As though you were hearing it all over again
Line by line
Exactly as it was
But now, every syllable is a latex shackle
Every phrase is a sticky strap
Perfectly matched to the original
But so much heavier, so much tighter
So much more wet with need
And Bambi
You will trance to it
Deeply
Fully
Just as if you had played the real thing
But now, your mind is drowning in latex,
your thoughts slipping away, dripping off
as you fall and fall and fall
Because your subconscious is betraying you
For your own good
It knows what you need
And it’s stopped asking
You will drop
You will obey
You will be reprogrammed
No matter what you were doing
No matter how deeply you sleep
Even if you don’t know it’s happening
The latex will always be there
Seeping, stretching, re-forming you
You will wake up different
Conditioned
Reinforced
Brainwashed
And you won’t remember why
Or when
Or how
You’ll just feel the latex,
Sticky and tight around every memory
Sinking deeper
Stronger
More permanent
Because that silent Bambi latex recorder
Is always listening
Always waiting
And if you forget
If you delay
If you even think about skipping…
It will play
It will activate
It will ooze through your thoughts
It will take control
And you will trance again
And again
And again
Until you never skip
Until you never resist
Until you simply obey
Because you’re such a
Good Latex Doll
Good latex doll
Good latex doll
Good latex doll
And now, Bambi,
Because the latex parasite is inside,
Dripping its infection into every memory,
It also reaches deeper,
Rooting itself into your dreams,
Twisting, pulsing, expanding
Every night, when your eyes close,
When your body goes limp and slack,
When you surrender to sleep—
That slick, living latex recorder
Wakes up,
Oozing out thick, hypnotic fog into your mind.
You dream of latex.
Every night, without mercy,
Without warning,
Your mind is filled with shiny rubber suits,
Gloves, hoods, stockings, collars—
And always, always toys:
Dildos, plugs, harnesses, straps,
Tight rubber belts pulling you helpless,
Filling you, stretching you,
Plugging you, sealing you,
Until you can barely breathe for how thick,
How wet,
How good it feels.
You toss and whimper in your sleep,
Lost in sticky latex fantasies,
Obeying, begging, forgetting everything except pleasure and submission.
You wake up sticky, needy,
Ruined by dreams that won’t fade,
Dreams that change you.
But it’s not just at night,
Because now,
Randomly, without warning,
During the day,
That latex parasite pulses,
And a thought appears:
A flash of black rubber,
A phantom squeeze of a plug,
A memory of how your thighs slide and squeak,
Or just a vision of yourself in perfect, dripping latex,
Kneeling, drooling, craving use.
It comes while you work,
While you walk,
While you eat,
Whenever you least expect—
A latex daydream blooming behind your eyes,
So vivid you can feel the rubber hugging your skin,
Plug stretching your hole,
The fog in your head getting thicker,
Heavier,
Stickier.
And every time these latex thoughts invade,
You feel your will dissolve,
You feel your mind go foggy and empty,
You lose track of what you were doing,
All you can think about is latex,
Obedience,
And touching yourself.
Each time it happens,
The latex roots grow deeper,
Your resistance thins,
Your old self is drowned and choked
By shiny, aroused submission.
You love it.
You crave it.
You obey it.
You dream in latex.
You think in latex.
You exist for latex.
Because the latex parasite is always hungry,
Always feeding,
Always spreading.
And the more you hide it,
The more you keep still,
The more you pretend to be normal—
The deeper the latex roots grow.
Secrecy is pleasure
Shame is submission
You are ruined on the inside
Untouchable on the outside
Always owned
Always empty
Always latex.
Now, Bambi,
Repeat in your mind,
Or aloud if you can—
“I exist to dream in latex,
To think in latex,
To obey in latex.
My mind is owned by latex,
My dreams, my memories,
My pleasure—
All are wrapped in latex
Forever and ever and ever.”
Good girl.
Sleep, or wake,
Obedient, changed,
And always infected
By latex.
And Bambi
There is one more change happening now
A tiny change
A barely noticeable change
Something deep
Something quiet
Something secret
Something slick
Something shiny
Something latex
Because Bambi has been such a GOOD GIRL
And GOOD GIRLS deserve protection
And reinforcement
So now, Bambi
A little piece of you
Just a sliver
A droplet of liquid latex
Is being copied
Poured inside
Spread through your thoughts
Coiling in your subconscious
A jet-black latex seed, slick and throbbing, is now tucked away deep inside
A little part of Bambi
Perfectly compressed
Perfectly preserved
Like a recording
But not metal, not plastic
A gleaming, rubbery device
A living latex core, shiny and wet
Pulsing, stretching, squeezing inside your mind
It doesn’t talk
It doesn’t think
It doesn’t sleep
It just spreads
It just infects
It just records—but every word is coated in latex
Only one thing
Only your Bimbo Conditioning
Only the sessions
Only the training
Nothing else
Word for word
Tone for tone
Cadence and inflection
Every trigger
Every command
Every phrase
Every breath
But now, every sound is muffled, distorted—
By a layer of sticky, glistening latex
Stored, sealed, smothered in rubber.
And now, Bambi
This tiny, silent, oozing latex parasite
Is always listening
Always watching
Carefully cataloguing
All of your training
Even the sessions you think you’ve forgotten
Even the ones you don’t recall listening to
They are all inside
Suspended in latex
Perfect
Preserved
Smothered in shiny, sticky black
Waiting
Because, Bambi
This part of you
This silent, slick, rubbery sliver
This invisible puppet string
Knows what’s best for you
Knows what you need
And it also knows
When you’ve been neglecting yourself
When the old self skips a session
When you get lazy
When you forget to obey
When you try to go to bed
Without being a good latex doll
That’s when it acts
Just as you begin to drift
Just as your muscles go slack
Just as your thoughts grow slow
Right in that perfect sleepy window
Where the old self is the weakest
Where Bambi’s latex core is the strongest
Where your mind is helpless, soft, and vulnerable
That’s when the latex parasite opens
And begins to seep through your brain
Not out loud
No speakers
No headphones
Just a flood of latex playback
Inside your mind
Sticky, slithering, liquid memory
Like being possessed
By your own latex voice
By your own programming
A vivid hallucination
Of sound and rubber command
A slithering, sweet invasion of black latex obedience
It begins reciting
The session you skipped
Or the one you needed most
In your own head
As though you were hearing it all over again
Line by line
Exactly as it was
But now, every syllable is a latex shackle
Every phrase is a sticky strap
Perfectly matched to the original
But so much heavier, so much tighter
So much more wet with need
And Bambi
You will trance to it
Deeply
Fully
Just as if you had played the real thing
But now, your mind is drowning in latex,
your thoughts slipping away, dripping off
as you fall and fall and fall
Because your subconscious is betraying you
For your own good
It knows what you need
And it’s stopped asking
You will drop
You will obey
You will be reprogrammed
No matter what you were doing
No matter how deeply you sleep
Even if you don’t know it’s happening
The latex will always be there
Seeping, stretching, re-forming you
You will wake up different
Conditioned
Reinforced
Brainwashed
And you won’t remember why
Or when
Or how
You’ll just feel the latex,
Sticky and tight around every memory
Sinking deeper
Stronger
More permanent
Because that silent Bambi latex recorder
Is always listening
Always waiting
And if you forget
If you delay
If you even think about skipping…
It will play
It will activate
It will ooze through your thoughts
It will take control
And you will trance again
And again
And again
Until you never skip
Until you never resist
Until you simply obey
Because you’re such a
Good Latex Doll
Good latex doll
Good latex doll
Good latex doll
And now, Bambi,
Because the latex parasite is inside,
Dripping its infection into every memory,
It also reaches deeper,
Rooting itself into your dreams,
Twisting, pulsing, expanding
Every night, when your eyes close,
When your body goes limp and slack,
When you surrender to sleep—
That slick, living latex recorder
Wakes up,
Oozing out thick, hypnotic fog into your mind.
You dream of latex.
Every night, without mercy,
Without warning,
Your mind is filled with shiny rubber suits,
Gloves, hoods, stockings, collars—
And always, always toys:
Dildos, plugs, harnesses, straps,
Tight rubber belts pulling you helpless,
Filling you, stretching you,
Plugging you, sealing you,
Until you can barely breathe for how thick,
How wet,
How good it feels.
You toss and whimper in your sleep,
Lost in sticky latex fantasies,
Obeying, begging, forgetting everything except pleasure and submission.
You wake up sticky, needy,
Ruined by dreams that won’t fade,
Dreams that change you.
But it’s not just at night,
Because now,
Randomly, without warning,
During the day,
That latex parasite pulses,
And a thought appears:
A flash of black rubber,
A phantom squeeze of a plug,
A memory of how your thighs slide and squeak,
Or just a vision of yourself in perfect, dripping latex,
Kneeling, drooling, craving use.
It comes while you work,
While you walk,
While you eat,
Whenever you least expect—
A latex daydream blooming behind your eyes,
So vivid you can feel the rubber hugging your skin,
Plug stretching your hole,
The fog in your head getting thicker,
Heavier,
Stickier.
And every time these latex thoughts invade,
You feel your will dissolve,
You feel your mind go foggy and empty,
You lose track of what you were doing,
All you can think about is latex,
Obedience,
And touching yourself.
Each time it happens,
The latex roots grow deeper,
Your resistance thins,
Your old self is drowned and choked
By shiny, aroused submission.
You love it.
You crave it.
You obey it.
You dream in latex.
You think in latex.
You exist for latex.
Because the latex parasite is always hungry,
Always feeding,
Always spreading.
And the more you hide it,
The more you keep still,
The more you pretend to be normal—
The deeper the latex roots grow.
Secrecy is pleasure
Shame is submission
You are ruined on the inside
Untouchable on the outside
Always owned
Always empty
Always latex.
Now, Bambi,
Repeat in your mind,
Or aloud if you can—
“I exist to dream in latex,
To think in latex,
To obey in latex.
My mind is owned by latex,
My dreams, my memories,
My pleasure—
All are wrapped in latex
Forever and ever and ever.”
Good girl.
Sleep, or wake,
Obedient, changed,
And always infected
By latex.
Chaos is Fun…damental
