To become a mindless drone, you must first feel absolutely safe – or be infinitely stupid. I’m exposing the “Trust Dilemma”: Why intelligent control freaks crave the cold hand of the system and why trust is the ultimate, necessary lust-killer. From “fuck-meat” to functional objects, discover why a silent mind is the only way to escape cognitive exhaustion.
Hello dear followers,
As mentioned in my last diary post, I recently had a new slave boy visit for the first time. You’ve seen some glimpses of him in other articles, but today I want to dive deeper into slave Raveru. For me, he represents a central paradox of kink fantasies: The Trust Dilemma.
But first, let’s talk about slave Raveru: he’s a truly sweet French twink, totally obsessed with dehumanization. His goal is to be perceived and treated as a living object. Naturally, he’s a passionate rubber fan. At the same time, much like myself, he is a total “head person.” Everything is reflected, analyzed, and sometimes literally thought to death.
Before we get into the psychological core of this issue, let me give you a glimpse into his arrival so you can visualize him better. You know the drill when a new slave arrives at my place, if not, check out my article ‘The Arrival of Slaves’.
After his multi-hour journey, I knew he needed to prep and rinse. Regardless, I wanted to inspect him first. My plan was for him to put in the black lenses only after cleaning up. Therefore, he was ordered to wait for me in the elevator in the following gear: a chastity device, a blind rubber mask, no eye openings whatsoever, and socks. Since we were meeting in real life for the first time, this moment was crucial. And I saw it immediately as Raru knelt there in the lift: This is one damn cute guy. Or what do you think?
I led him to the Red Room for a proper evaluation. I knew he had been wearing his chastity device for over three weeks in preparation, but I was still positively surprised, almost astonished, at the high-quality gear and toys students own these days.
After the detailed inspection, he was locked in the bathroom to shower, rinse, and insert the black lenses. My goal was clear: he was to spend the first day in absolute blindness. He had to learn to surrender control completely and let himself be led unconditionally.
The Psychological Paradox
Now that you have a picture of slave Raveru, let’s get to the heart of the matter: The Trust Dilemma.
Raveru craves dehumanization. This desire to be an object, to act only as a drone without a will of its own, is a need many kinksters carry. It’s especially common among intelligent types whose heads are spinning from the moment they wake up until they hit the pillow, and for some, I can tell you from experience, even while they sleep. It is the craving to turn that brain off because, in the helplessness of a drone’s existence, that brain can’t achieve anything anyway. It’s a search for peace from one’s own mind, an attempt to recover from cognitive exhaustion through mindless service and inescapable use. It’s no coincidence that control freaks are often the ones seeking total loss of control.
But this wish is a dilemma in itself. We are looking at a skydiver with a fear of heights. The desire to fly is massive, but will the brain allow the jump out of the plane?
This is where the struggle begins: the mind of a slave like Raveru wants safety. He wants to know the parachute is packed perfectly, the wind is calculated, and the landing zone is clear. That’s why a guy like Raveru actually wants to do everything himself. He tries to defeat his fear through knowledge and control. But does that sound like surrender?
The first step isn’t the surrender itself, but the delegation of control and, eventually, self-determination to a third party. This state of being “at the mercy of another” requires immense trust, especially for a head person. And trust definitely doesn’t grow out of the anonymity of a drone’s existence.
To become an object, you first have to feel absolutely safe on a human level – or you simply have to be infinitely stupid and reckless.
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Raveru needs the certainty that I, as his Master, can pack his parachute better than he can. He has to feel that I can not only take responsibility for his free fall but that I handle it with more routine than he ever could.
Deep down, he would love the anonymity, the “not knowing,” and the risk involved, but his brain won’t allow it. Two worlds collide: the kinky fantasy wants the “Stranger,” the faceless Master using a faceless object. But the reality of the head person needs the Mentor, the Expert, the one he can trust blindly.
Those who long for dehumanization and “dronification” don’t want explanations. They want to feel the cold hand of the system. But a mind that never stands still needs confirmation that the system is flawless. You can prepare this security in a chat to some extent, but you can never anchor it deep enough for a head person to truly let go. That requires real contact and repeated confirmation of trust.
This building of trust is an absolute must, and at the same time, a total lust-killer. While we are in this process, neither of us gets what we actually want. He wants cold, anonymous use, but gets attention, analysis, and human proximity. I want the functioning, mindless object, but have to deal with the stubborn mind of a human being first.
It’s the upfront investment we both have to make: we must briefly give up distance to establish it even more radically later. Anyone who lacks this patience and skips the “trust-building lust-killer” will end up with a cheap copy of their fantasy, or as a bottom, face serious abuse or “accidents.” Without the foundation of real trust, there is no safe free fall. As a skydiver, he must feel that I know exactly when it’s time to jump. It takes time for the head to finally shut up.
The Needed Safety Anchor for Anonymous Action
The Trust Dilemma also applies to those who enjoy being “fair game” for an anonymous crowd or those with CNC fantasies. I tell them: once you have a Master as your personal safety anchor, anything becomes possible. You can let yourself fall, still feeling that prickling uncertainty of anonymity and the situational unease of what might happen next, but without the existential fear.
As you know from my ‘Social Slavery’ article, I often organize group sessions or visit clubs with slaves. I use these opportunities to give my boys the anonymous action they crave-moments where they become “fuck-meat,” no longer a human counterpart, just a hole. But let’s be clear: in that moment, it shouldn’t be their wish, but they should feel that it is MY wish.
The Raveru Protocol
Back to Raveru’s visit. I told him beforehand not to expect too much from a first visit. I see these five days primarily as a test to see if the chemistry works, and I’m well aware it’s a test of me as well.
I built specific elements into the program to see if the drone-cravings were deep-seated or just pretty fantasies. First was the visual deprivation: the blind mask, then the black lenses. For the first 1.5 days, Raveru saw neither me nor my dungeon. He was completely dependent on his other senses and my guidance. This gave him the anonymity and social distance he was looking for.
On the second evening, I brought in slave Jati. I wanted to see how Raveru handled other kinksters, serving together, playing together. Of course, we communicated during these 2.5 days. It contradicts the silent drone ideal, but it’s the essential groundwork. Without this bridge of words and actions on my part, there would be no silence in his head later.
When Jati left the next afternoon, I shifted my behavior radically. Communication was stripped down to minimal commands. When not in use, the boy was consistently locked away or ordered into stress positions.
On the night of the fourth day, I invited friends over. The slave was reduced entirely to service and use. Any communication with him was forbidden; guests spoke only to me. And believe me: you have to train guests for that. They aren’t nearly as easy to train as slaves. 🙂
When it became clear he was exhausted, I let him rest. My command was simple: report back when you are “operational” again. I gave no other specific orders. It was great to see that even in this “me-time,” he acted like a slave, retreating to his cage and strictly following the few fixed rules we had established.
Raveru showed me a lot during those days, his willingness to learn, his passion for service, and his potential to become a functional drone. And honestly? He looks damn hot in rubber. I love rubber for that very dehumanization; one remains somewhat “naked” even when fully encased. While I prefer skin-to-skin for sex, for the rest of the headspace, rubber is unbeatable.
We’ve talked since he got home, and we’re moving forward. We both see this first meeting as an investment. With the trust we’ve built, we can become stricter in the future, moving Raveru closer and closer to his wish of being a mindless drone, until he has finally become the object he always wanted to be. And if that drone proves useful, the Master’s wish is fulfilled too.
