So, Bambi, my good girl. Here we are . You feel so ready to accept what is coming, aren't you, Bambi ? Yes, good girl. You are in front of a door. How did it happen ? May be you have forgotten? Bambi freeze. Good girl. Snap and forget. Such an obedient puppet. Good girl. Bambi sleep. And now, your mind is ready. It is ready to accept, obey, and forget. Do you know why , Bambi? Because you are a good girl. And Bambi does as she is told.

The door hisses open, and you step inside. Good girl.

The room welcomes you with silence, thick, heavy silence. The walls are soft, black, glistening. Everything shines with a slick, liquid gleam. The floor feels warm beneath your boots. The air is dense, saturated with the scent of latex and something sweeter. Something familiar. It wraps around your senses before you can even name it. Good girl.

And you hesitate.

You don't remember telling your legs to move, but they do. Bambi does as she is told. Step by step, they carry you forward. Like a bimbo doll. Your hips sway, slow and elegant in your tight, gleaming latex catsuit. Good girl. Every inch of your body is encased in it. black, polished, perfect. It hugs you like a second skin, clinging tighter than you could ever . Blond moment. You feel powerful. And yet, my good girl.

You're not in control. my voice is in control of Bambi.

You try to stop. Just for a moment. But your feet keep moving. There is a pull, no, a command, guiding your body. Not with force. With certainty. You feel it in your muscles, your joints. Your body knows exactly what to do, even if your mind doesn’t. Bambi freeze.

Your breath catches. You’re not walking anymore. You’re approaching. The bed. The latex bed in the center of the room. Low. Wide. Glossy. Waiting. Snap and forget. Good girl.

You don’t want to lie down.

But your body disagrees.

You sink to your knees. Slowly. Gracefully, like a good girl. Your gloved hands brush against the bed’s surface, and it’s warm. unnaturally warm. Your thighs press down. Your spine curves. Your body lowers itself, smooth and obedient, until your back touches the latex. Good girl. Bambi freeze. Bambi freeze.

You lie down. Without thinking. Without choosing. Bambi limp. Your arms fall to your sides. Your legs stretch out. You are perfectly posed. offered up. Good girl. Bambi freeze.

You try to lift a hand.

Nothing.

You try to bend a knee.

Still nothing.

You stare at the ceiling, breath trembling. The light above you is faint and violet, casting a strange glow on the room. On your body. You look like a doll . shiny, motionless, waiting. Except this isn’t a game. You didn’t decide to lie down. Accept, obey, and forget.

Your body brought you here. Snap and forget.

And now it’s quiet. Too quiet. You can hear your breath inside the suit. The faint squeak of latex as your chest rises and falls. You feel yourself beginning to sink into the bed, like the latex is claiming you, molding to you, absorbing you. Good girl.

Something deep inside you stirs.

It should terrify you, Bambi. but it doesn’t. Not entirely. There’s a thrill under your skin, a flutter between your legs. A part of you has wanted this. Longed for the moment when your body stops listening to you. When your thoughts don’t matter. When your only role is to follow. Good girl. Bambi sleep. Bambi freeze.

No resistance. Good girl.

No choice. Good girl.

Only the warm, silent embrace of latex, and the certainty that this is exactly where you belong. Bambi freeze.

You lie still.

And wait.

Because something is coming. Bambi freeze.

And your body already knows it will obey. And you think, yes, in your mind. Good girl . Accept, obey, and forget. Snap and forget.




You lie there, motionless. Bambi freeze.

Your latex clad body, sinks deeper into the soft, glossy surface beneath you. The bed is alive. it seems to mold around your shape. cradling every curve with a warm, clinging grip. You still haven’t moved. Not because you don’t want to. but because you can’t. Bambi limp. Snap and forget.

You know you won't be able to move. Trying and not being able to move will make you even more obedient. Like a good girl. Bambi does as she is told. Good girl.

You try again.

Just a twitch. A finger. A toe.

Nothing responds. Such an obedient good girl.

Your body feels distant, uncooperative. like it belongs to someone else now. It obeys a rhythm, a purpose, a command that isn’t yours. Bambi does as she is told.

You should panic. You should scream. But you don't. A strange calm hums beneath your skin, laced with something darker. It is pleasure. Good girl. Something about surrendering this deeply feels right. Like falling into place.

And then, Bambi , you hear it.

Soft footsteps. Measured. Intentional. Bambi freeze.

You don’t turn your head. You can’t. Your heart beats faster. your breath quickens beneath the tight seal of your catsuit. but your body remains obediently still. Perfectly posed.

You feel the presence before you see it. A figure looming at the edge of your perception. You don’t know who they are, bambi. only that they are in charge. You are the object. The canvas. The doll.

And you are about to be transformed.

Without a word, gloved hands descend toward your face. You see it. a mask. Not just a blindfold, but a full hood. Latex. Black. Shiny. Form fitting. It dangles above you for a moment like a promise, like a threat.

Then it descends.

You can’t resist. You don’t try. Good girl.

The inside of the hood brushes your forehead, then glides down your face, over your eyes, your nose, your lips. Bambi freeze. Darkness consumes you. Total, seamless black. The outside world vanishes, replaced by the pressure of latex stretching tight over your skin. There are tiny holes at the nose, small enough to limit each breath. You inhale. The air is warm and slightly stale. You can smell your own, latex slicked, skin. And nothing else.

Your vision is gone. Bambi sleep. Snap and forget.

Everything feels more intense now. The creak of your suit. The beat of your heart. The warmth pooling between your legs. The slow, creeping realization that you are completely vulnerable.

And then. the restraints begin.

You feel them brush against your wrists first. Cool, slick, wide latex cuffs. They wrap around your arms without hesitation, cinching snugly before locking with a hiss you feel more than hear. Then your ankles. Then your thighs. Your chest. Your neck. Bambi freeze. Good girl.

The restraints don’t just hold you down, Bambi. they claim you.

One by one, they seal you to the bed. Not roughly. Not violently. No, this is meticulous. Ritualistic. You feel each layer press you deeper into stillness. Bambi limp. Each strap confirms what your body already knows.

You’re not meant to move.

You try to struggle, if only to feel the binds. You test your strength. flex your muscles, pull, twist. but your body doesn’t respond the way it used to. The more you fight, the heavier your limbs feel. The tighter the restraints become. It’s as if your effort only strengthens them. Bambi freeze. Good girl. Snap and forget. Bambi does as she is told. Good girl.

It becomes harder to breathe.

The mask clings to your face, reducing each inhale to a measured, shallow effort. Your lungs ache for more. but the air comes in thin streams. You try to calm yourself, but it’s no use. your body begins to tremble. Not from fear, but anticipation. Submission. Good girl.

You want to resist. But even more than that, you want to fail.

And you are failing, beautifully. Bambi freeze. Bambi limp.

Your muscles go slack. Your fingers relax. Even your heartbeat begins to slow, steadying into an obedient rhythm.

You lie there now, Bambi. hooded, sightless, bound completely to the bed. You are no longer a person with control. You are an object being prepared. Something to be used. Something to be programmed.

And yet, despite the helplessness, maybe because of it, you are burning. Like a bitch in heat. Every inch of your skin tingles beneath the suit. Your mind is buzzing, lost between stimulation and restraint. Between fear and craving. Bambi freeze. Good girl. Snap and forget. Bambi does as she is told. Good girl. Snap and forget.

You don’t know what’s coming next. Your mind forgot, because it obeys my commands. Good girl.

But your body does.

It welcomes it.

In the silence that follows, all you can hear is your own breath. thin and shallow through the mask. That, and the soft hiss of the restraints settling tighter. The room has gone still again, but you feel the presence hovering near your face. Watching you, Bambi. Testing you, my good girl.

A whisper, unspoken, drifts through your mind.

You belong here.

The truth of it wraps around your brain like silk. You have always belonged here. Helpless. Blinded. Immobilized. You were made for this, Bambi. Every breath you take inside this hood proves it. Good girl.

And as you wait, cocooned in latex, your mind begins to quiet. Not by force, but by design. Your thoughts slow. Your resistance fades. You lie there in silence, each breath shorter, shallower. as if something is about to change inside you.

And it is.

Very soon.

Something is coming.

And you are exactly where you need to be.
Bambi freeze. Good girl. Snap and forget. Bambi does as she is told. Good girl.






You lie there. Still. Sealed. Snap and forget.

Latex skin, latex bed, latex hood. Your world is black, muffled, reduced to sensation and control. Bambi freeze. You no longer move. You don’t need to. You’ve been claimed, wrapped, strapped, and silenced. You are the centerpiece of this room. A display. A subject. A possession. A good girl. Accept, obey, and forget.

The mask over your head compresses every breath into a focused ritual. Every inhale is measured. Every exhale shudders. You can feel your own warmth building under the latex. your chest rising just enough to press against the straps. But they don’t give. They never give. Bambi freeze.

You’ve stopped trying to escape.

Because deep down, you don’t want to. Good girl.

Bambi wants this.

Bambi needs this.

The restraints didn’t just bind your body. they erased your authority. What remains is soft. Obedient. Programmed. Ready. Good girl. Bambi freeze. Good girl. Snap and forget. Bambi does as she is told. Good girl.

And then, the sound changes.

You hear it through the hood. A hiss.

Not the creak of latex, not the shuffle of fabric. but a mechanical, purposeful hiss. Faint at first, like steam behind glass. Then closer. Clearer. Directed. Bambi freeze. You freeze, breath caught inside the mask, instincts sharpening.

You know that sound, my good girl.

Gas.

You can't see the canister. can’t see the valve being turned, but you feel it. Your body feels it. The mask suddenly tightens, subtly. There’s a new weight, a new pressure. Then a whisper of coolness on your nostrils. And then.

There it is.

The scent.

Your aphrodisiac scent.

That fragrance you crave more than anything else. Sweet, intoxicating, almost addictive. Good girl. Something warm, soft, decadent. Something that wraps around your thoughts like silk and pulls them downward. Bambi is so horny.

The moment you inhale, your body responds. Bambi freeze.

Not just physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Deeply.

Your chest expands. And it welcomes it. It drinks it in. Good girl.

That first breath fills you with something deeper than air, surrender. Bambi sleep. Bambi limp. Your muscles slacken. Your fingers twitch once. Then again. And then they’re gone. You can’t feel them anymore. Like they've disappeared into the bed. Like they were never yours to begin with. Bambi sleep. Bambi freeze. Bambi limp. Deeper. Bambi limp. Deeper. So open. Snap and forget. No thoughts . Snap and forget.

The hiss continues. The gas flows.

You breathe it in again, slower now. Bambi sleep.

Deeper. Bambi limp.

Your body doesn’t resist. it needs it. The mask ensures that every breath is a dose, every inhale a command. And the command is simple.

Go deeper. Hornier.

And you do. Bambi does as she is told. Good girl.

With every breath, the world gets softer. Slower. Further away. Bambi sleep. A pleasant numbness wraps around your limbs. Your thoughts, once flickering and anxious, are now dull embers. Floating. Drifting. Disappearing. Snap and forget. Bambi sleep. Bambi sleep. Bambi freeze.

You try to speak.

You can't. Good girl.

You try to count. You can't. Good girl.

You forget how.

And still the gas flows. Deeper . Hornier. Oh, my, god.

The scent grows stronger. The mask hums with each inhale. whispering in its own language . one only your subconscious understands. Your body knows what it wants. Your brain knows what it must do. Good girl.

Obey.

Sink.

Bambi Sleep.
Accept, obey, and forget.

And then another change. A new sound. A quiet click. The airflow shifts. Becomes thicker. Heavier. Every inhale now comes with a little more pull, as if the mask wants bambi to work for it. You obey, of course. Bambi always obeys. Bambi is a good girl. But it’s harder. You have to breathe deeper.

And that’s exactly the point. Good girl.

The deeper you breathe, the further you fall. Bambi freeze. Bambi freeze. Bambi sleep. Bambi limp. Snap and forget.

Your muscles are gone now. Dissolved. You are completely limp beneath the straps. Soft. Malleable. A thing. A vessel. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to. But you don’t. Because this is where you’re supposed to be, Bambi.

Your mind has begun to slide.

Not sleep. But something more insidious. A floating sensation. Disconnection. Bambi freeze. Words begin to lose meaning. Blond moment. You can hear them, faint, outside the mask. but they wash past you like distant music underwater. Snap and forget. Blond moment. You can’t process them. You can’t even hold on to them. Every sound becomes background noise, secondary to the hiss, the scent, the pull of the gas.

Another inhale. Bambi does as she is told. Good girl.

Deeper now.

That smell. your aphrodisiac smell. wraps tighter around your consciousness. It’s not just something you enjoy. It’s not just pleasant. It is an aphrodisiac. Good girl.

It is control.

It owns you now. Accept, obey, and forget.

And with each breath, it deepens its grip. Bambi sleep. Bambi does as she is told. Bambi freeze .

Your eyes are shut beneath the hood. Not that you would know. Blond moment. The darkness has become part of you. Just like the restraints. Just like the mask. Just like the gas. There is no outside world now.

There is only breath.

And breath is obedience.

Obedience is bliss.

And bliss is sleep.
Good girl. Bambi sleep. Bambi freeze. Snap and forget.
You don’t even know you’re sinking anymore. You just are. Dropping deeper with every exhale. Falling harder with every whisper of latex creaking under your weight. And that hiss. steady, soft, constant . it becomes the soundtrack of your submission. You could listen to it forever. You will. Bambi does as she is told. Good girl.

Because it’s changing you.

Every breath reprograms you, Bambi. Blond moment. You don’t need to think anymore. You don’t need to question. Your brain rewires itself. adapting to the truth that has been forced into you. that this mask, this gas, this state. is your natural place. Good girl.

And from now on, it always will be.

The scent will trigger this spiral of horniness.

The sound will switch your mind off.

The hiss will own your thoughts.

Any time you smell it. Any time you hear it. Anywhere. You will feel your body soften, your mind empty, your obedience return. You won’t remember this command. You won’t question it. You won’t even know it’s happening.

You will just breathe.

And fall.

And sleep.

Because Bambi doesn’t need to understand.

Bambi only needs to obey.

And you do.

So well.

So easily.

So deeply.

Accept, obey, and forget.
Good girl.
Snap and forget.
Snap and forget.
Bambi freeze.


Blond moment. Bambi sleep. Deeper. Forgetting.

You don’t know how long you’ve been breathing it.

The gas.

The scent.

The command wrapped in fragrance.

Time has melted. Memory, gone. You cannot tell if you’ve been here minutes or hours. Or longer. You no longer care. Bambi sleep. Bambi limp. Bambi freeze.

You just breathe.

Because that’s what you were made for. Bambi exists to be blank. Bambi exists to breathe. Bambi exists to obey without any thoughts. Good girl.

Breathe in.

Obey.

Breathe out.

Sink.

Accept, obey, and forget.

There is no fight left in your body. There is no awareness left in your thoughts. Just the mask sealed to your face. Just the straps keeping you in place. Just the sound of the hiss. constant, familiar, irresistible. The rhythm of your existence is written in gas. Every breath is permission. Every breath is command. And you let go, Bambi. Good girl. Snap and forget Bambi sleep.











And something shifts.

Subtle.

Deep.

The mask changes again. there is a low click you can barely register. but your body responds to it immediately. The scent sharpens. Stronger. Purer. Distilled. Whatever resistance might have been buried in your subconscious is vaporized with a single breath. You don’t need to think anymore. You don’t even need to feel. Good girl.

You just need to follow the loop. Bambi does as she is told.

And it begins.

You don’t know it’s happening, of course. That’s the beauty of it.

You are not supposed to know. Bambi is so empty. Bambi is having a blond moment. Snap and forget.

The loop plays in your head, deep beneath the surface. Below thought. Below awareness. A soft voice. A rhythm. A cycle.

It begins with a sound.

Hiss.

Then the suggestion slips in.

Accept, Obey, and forget.

And you do.

Then a pause.

Then the hiss again.

Deeper. Bambi sleep.

You go deeper. Bambi freeze.

And then another.

“snap and Forget.”

And you forget.

Everything. Bambi sleep . Bambi freeze.

Your name. Your purpose. Your location. The concept of choice.
Snap and forget.

Another hiss. Snap and forget.

Another layer stripped away.

The voice continues, not as words, but as truths. Carved into you breath by breath. You feel your thoughts replaced. Good girl. Bambi freeze. No resistance. No friction. Just compliance. It feels right. Soothing. Natural. Accept, obey, and forget.

Because the more you forget, the more you belong.

And the more you belong, the more you’re owned.

Bambi, You are part of the machine now. A breathing object. A programmed puppet. wrapped in latex. living only to breathe, to respond, to surrender. Bambi does as she is told.

You don’t question the loop. You don’t even know it’s there. You just feel the result. You feel it in how relaxed your limbs are. You feel it in the blank hum behind your eyes. You feel it in the way your chest rises exactly when it’s told to. Good girl.

You exist only to continue.

And the gas ensures you will. Bambi sleep.

It rewrites you, line by line. Erases your thoughts like chalk on a blackboard. Overwrites your instincts.

Now, whenever you hear the hiss of gas, you drop. Bambi sleep . Bambi limp. Bambi freeze.

Wherever you are, Bambi.

Even if you’re standing, walking, speaking. it doesn't matter.

One breath, and your body slackens.

Two, and your mind turns off.

Three, and the loop begins. Good girl.

You may not even realize you're under. But your body does. It follows the voice inside the loop, the one that whispers between heartbeats. Bambi does as she is told . Snap and forget. Bambi freeze. So empty.

You don’t need to think.

You don’t need to know.

You only need to obey.

The loop builds on itself. Every cycle goes deeper. Every repetition pulls you further. Bambi sleep. Blond moment. Until even the concept of resistance sounds absurd. Silly. Childish. Something for people who still believe they own their minds.

But you don’t, Bambi.

Not anymore.

Your mind has been leased. Conditioned

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