What Happens When You Die Masturbating to a Classic Hypnosis Novel

“Aw, man… This is a legend no matter how many times I read it.”

While sorting through an old laptop with a dated processor, I stumbled across a classic hypnosis novel buried on the hard drive and couldn’t help but marvel. On the screen sat the undisputed bible of the genre, the mid-2000s masterpiece Making a Wife Through Hypnosis.

Modern readers chase convenient tropes like status windows, system brainwashing, or hypnosis apps, but for veterans like me the real foundation has always been stories that dominate both body ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and mind—using every tool imaginable for physical conditioning and layering suggestion upon suggestion until the victim’s very soul belongs to the hypnotist.

Above all, what made Making a Wife Through Hypnosis eternal was its ice-cold, meticulously crafted plot: turning people into obedient “dolls” through hypnosis, then selling them to vulgar nobles or aristocrats who wanted wives incapable of betrayal, or auctioning them to the highest bidder.

Though it was a tragic masterpiece left on indefinite hiatus midway through volume four, my instincts still dragged me back to it every few years like a salmon fighting its way upstream.

“Hahaha. I thought I wiped it during that post-nut clarity session years ago, but here it is.”

It had traveled with me from desktop to laptop to phone, only to vanish after I deleted it in a moment of shame. I had scoured the internet for months afterward, but the title was so ancient that only a handful of people even remembered it. The pirated files were hopelessly corrupted—most of them packed with ransomware or malware.

“Fuck! Just remembering how my entire hard drive died the second I pulled my pants down…!”

The trauma of losing critical company documents along with my porn folder had kept the novel completely erased from my mind for years. Yet here it was, waiting on an old family laptop I’d dug out during the holidays. No gift or bonus could have made me happier.

“Yeah… This is exactly why I read it.”

The moment I jumped to part two—my favorite section—I yanked my pants down at the scene where the protagonist places the female knight captain under hypnosis. She is both the client’s commission and the volume’s main heroine. From there I never stopped stroking, riding the legendary sequence in which the protagonist pretends to be her new lover and begins having sex with her.

It’s a common twist now, but back then the shock that this knight captain—in her late thirties with a twenty-year-old daughter—was still a virgin hit like a bomb. The protagonist panics, thinking it lowers her market value. Then he checks the contract, realizes there is no virginity clause, and immediately starts thrusting into that “ripe fruit.”

The way the knight captain’s thirty years of pent-up desire explodes the instant the hypnosis trigger is spoken, her proud body crumbling into a helpless mess—that was the true climax of part two, the scene that never failed to set my heart pounding.

The female knight captain’s virgin body—kept locked away for decades inside cold steel armor—melted like wax under a single finger from the protagonist. Thirty years of chastity, shredded by a single whispered command.

At last the light of reason in her eyes shattered. Her thighs, pinned by strong male hands, convulsed violently. Lewd moans that could never have belonged to a knight captain spilled from her lips. As the hypnotist began to ravage her most sacred place, she screamed and clung to her new master. All the pride she had built over thirty years collapsed, replaced by nothing but the instincts of a bitch in heat.

“Haa… haa… Fuck, this is insane. The description, the buildup…”

My hand moved mechanically, yet greedily. The old laptop’s fan whirred in time with my ragged breathing. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Every time the image of the proud knight captain weeping and surrendering flashed through my mind, an unbearable pressure surged through my lower body. I was so immersed that I barely felt the fabric of my clothes against my skin, despite the gut I had grown from years of terrible habits.

A middle-aged man with a protruding belly, rocking an old chair so hard it screamed, racing toward climax in a cramped room—that was me. The exact moment I reached the peak, my heart spasmed violently.

Wait…?

It felt as if a truck had slammed into my chest. A freezing sensation spread from my fingertips as blood seemed to drain away. Instead of ejaculation, a pure white flash swallowed my vision.

“Are you awake yet, you pathetic fool?”

When I opened my eyes to a headache that felt like my skull was splitting, the first thing I noticed was the sharp smell of medicinal herbs. My entire body was wrapped in bandages. I had been beaten black and blue.

“To think you would grope a maid the knight captain treats like her own sister and earn yourself a thrashing. Just how far do you intend to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠drag the Blake family name through the mud, eldest son of a count?”

A middle-aged man stood before me with cold, stern eyes. The instant I recognized him as my father, memories flooded in.

What the hell?!

Along with those memories came the face of the knight captain who had put me in this state. At the same time I realized this world was the romance-fantasy setting of part two of Making a Wife Through Hypnosis.

“Tsk. Of all people, you had to get caught by the knight captain’s child. Thanks to you the family’s reputation is in tatters.”

I knew this situation. I knew these lines. I had possessed the worthless extra—the count’s degenerate son—who commissions the hypnosis of the “knight mother and daughter” in part two, only to die pathetically before he can even receive the goods.

Of all the characters to possess, it had to be the one who dies right at the start.

In the original story this client was supposed to spend the entire time after placing the order desperately holding back his lust, planning to vent everything the moment he received the dolls. Instead he couldn’t wait and assaulted a new maid, only to be killed by her fiancé, a knight-aspirant. A literal nobody whose name never even appeared in the novel.

I was stunned for a moment, but the shock quickly melted into a different kind of heat.

“Father… I…”

“Enough. I will grant you a special opportunity to satisfy your filthy desires. The knight captain who did this to you, the witness who reported you, and even the daughter who helped dump you in our courtyard like garbage—I will have the ‘organization’ we cooperate with turn all three into perfect dolls. If any of them please you, take her as your wife. Make the other your concubine and own them for the rest of your life. That is how the men of our family have always done things.”

My so-called father thrust a thick contract toward me. This was the exact opening scene that began part two of the original work.

“…Do you know why your mother stares blankly at the garden whenever I have not given her an order?”

“…I was told it was a side effect from when she carried and gave birth to me.”

The moment I recited the extra’s original line, the man who called himself my father gave a twisted smile.

“That is the story we tell outsiders. In truth, your mother is a doll who moves only at my command.”

With those words the cold middle-aged man pulled out a special flute and blew a single note. The door opened and a woman of indeterminate age entered, her eyes completely unfocused. Despite the vacant gaze that made her seem almost brain-dead, her bearing and attire were those of a countess—elegant, refined, a stunning blonde beauty with blue eyes.

“Carna, strip.”

“Yes.”

Without the slightest hesitation, the woman named Carna—my mother in this world—began removing her clothes in front of her grown son. The luxurious silk dress slid to the floor, followed by layer after layer of petticoats. Soon a body so perfectly maintained that her mid-forties seemed impossible to believe was revealed.

I could only stare in awe. A firm abdomen untouched by the years, skin so smooth it could belong to a woman in her early thirties. It was clear she was not a human being but a high-class collectible kept under her owner’s meticulous care.

“Hehehe, you are seeing this for the first time as an adult, but isn’t she beautiful?”

Without any shame in front of his own son, my father roughly grabbed one of the naked woman’s full breasts. Her cheeks, which should have flushed with humiliation, remained deathly pale. The blue eyes visible between strands of golden hair simply stared into empty space.

“Look. This is what absolute obedience looks like. With a single command she bares herself without shame even before her own child. She is a perfect doll who exists only for my will. If you wish to become the master of this house, you too must train the women who kneel at your feet to this degree.”

Father smiled with glistening, lust-filled eyes and toyed with Carna’s body like a plaything. The original extra would have been overwhelmed into silence by the sight. But the person inside this body now was different.

My shock lasted only a moment. My gaze locked onto the woman whose beauty seemed unreal for someone who had borne a son, drinking in every inch with naked greed. The perfect scene of domination unfolding before me, combined with the thought of the noble knight mother and daughter who would soon fall into my hands, sent a shiver of dark ecstasy up my spine.

Hahaha… This is perfect! As expected of the world that led me into the realm of hypnosis.

An unbearable excitement seized me. Even the extra’s mother—who had only been described in a few lines in the original—was this beautiful. The knight mother and daughter were written to surpass even her. Now I finally understood why the client in the story had been so obsessively insane about them.

Just imagining those beautiful knights becoming my property is enough to make me hard. There was no way he could have stayed celibate.

I swallowed hard, marveling at both the cruelty of this world and the terrifying power of hypnosis while my pants strained painfully.

“…Magnificent, Father.”

The voice that left my lips trembled with genuine reverence. It was not the horny whine of a simple degenerate. It carried something deeper and darker—an understanding of this world’s rules, a greedy lust that imagined not only dominating the knight mother and daughter but also claiming the mature beauty before me.

“How did you obtain Mother?”

“Our family bloodline required an exceptional womb. Long ago I commissioned a certain organization to turn your arrogant mother into a doll. That was when I learned the truth—our house has always turned its wives into possessions. It is time you inherited that tradition.”

While explaining the history of the dolls and our family’s hidden secrets, Father pushed the contract toward me.

“Break the knight captain and her grown daughter. Crush those arrogant bitches and make them kneel at your feet. This is how you repay the humiliation you suffered and rise as the true heir of House Blake. Sign it.”

With ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠trembling hands I picked up the contract. Strangely, I felt no physical pain. The overwhelming dopamine rush from the mere thought of making the knight mother and daughter mine had swallowed every bruise and ache. Yet at the same time an even stronger fear—of death—came crashing down.

In the original story, after signing this contract I was supposed to wait for the dolls while practicing abstinence, only to lose control, assault a maid, and get killed by her fiancé. The knight mother and daughter would then become the protagonist’s property and serve as his bodyguards. A complete waste.

But I was different.

I took the pen Father offered. The dopamine that had flooded me earlier receded, and the pain from my injuries stabbed sharply into my brain, yet my mind had never been clearer. While Father fondled Carna’s waist, I found the emptiest margin on the contract. Steadying my shaking hand, I carved a new clause into the farthest corner—words that did not exist in the original novel, words that would change the fate of a mere extra.

I finished signing and handed the contract back to Father. He glanced at the crudely added clause beside the signature line and snorted.

He was clearly laughing at his idiot son for mistakenly writing the virginity penalty on the older knight captain instead of the young daughter. Even if he has to pay ten times the fee for a woman already in her mid-thirties, it’s still pocket change.

“Hehehe, very good. You really are my son. The ‘President’ and his disciple will visit soon. Until then, focus on recovering. And refrain from any more pathetic acts that earn you another beating from touching the maids.”

Satisfied, Father dressed Carna again, squeezed her ass possessively, and left the room. The moment the door closed and silence returned, I let out the long breath I had been holding.

The pot-bellied middle-aged man I had been before the possession was gone. In his place remained only the degenerate eldest son of a count—tall, broad-shouldered, nearly 180 centimeters of solid muscle—and one reader who knew far too many of this novel’s secrets.

Heh heh heh… I can’t wait for tomorrow.

I pictured the original protagonist’s face when he realized the true meaning of the clause I had added, and laughed with genuine delight.

This world was no longer merely the setting of a classic hypnosis novel. It was a world where, with enough money and power, anyone could custom-order living dolls exactly to their tastes. And now those dolls would be mine.