I texted khatsha, "If you could memorize anything, what would it be?"
She wrote back, "How about the first forty digits of Pi?"
She's a nerd, and I love it!
For a long time, I've been thinking about how hypnosis could be powerful for memorizing, when combined with other mnemonic devices. Mnemonics are a huge interest of mine, ever since I learned that they are extremely effective, which I wish my teachers had let me known when I was still in school.
My plan was based on the concept of a memory palace, a device used as far back as Cicero for remembering the order of things (such as sections of a speech). I experimented with it on myself, memorizing the order of verses of Bob Dylan's surreal Desolation Row. Here are the first lines of the first five in the correct order, from memorizing it 7 years ago and probably not recalling in a year:
- They're selling postcards of the hanging
- Cinderella she seems so easy
- Now the moon is almost hidden
- Ophelia she's 'neath the window
- Einstein disguised as Robin Hood
The secret is to choose a set of physical locations that you know very well, and ideally a route between them that is natural and that you can clearly picture travelling.
There are many ways we could have approached learning a sequence like this, for instance anchoring it on to the digits from 1 to 10 (maybe using the "one - bun" "two - shoe" mnemonic), but I wanted something that would let her rip through at speed, with relatively little practice.
For khatsha her memory palace was the route from the train station to her parents' house. She chose a set of ten landmarks along the way, such as the station itself, the yellow buses parked out front, and the grocery store right across from the station. What's cool about a memory palace, I told her, is that they are reusable: many ordered lists of 10 things could be associated with these ten locations, as long as they were from relatively different domains.
I broke the first 40 digits of Pi into ten groups of four, which I called "quartets" (this is exploiting another memory trick, called "chunking") Now the challenge was to associate these quartets with each of the locations. Ideally, they would be deeply integrated with that location, not just say written on a piece of paper there.
My initial idea was to have the digits engraved in surfaces in these locations, with the different materials perhaps helping to associate the digits with the location, e.g. carved into rock. My other idea was that a kind of glyph could be made of the four characters, as in graffiti art, so that for example "5213" could make a heart (52) and then a B (13). Or one could imagine them as animals (like 5 is a snake) involved in some kind of story.
But khatsha took an active role, and reminded me that she is synaesthetic. For her, each digit has a distinct and vivid colour association, that has stayed constant for as long as she can remember. So we decided to exploit this. For each location, we came up with a little scene, which I'm going to call the icon, that would contain the four colours, and hopefully be involved in the location.
For example, one location was a particular grey rock. She imagined a green python with blue eyes curled around the rock, pooping, with some of the poop dried. Based on her colour associations, once she had this image in mind, she could translate it back to 2795.
This was not the first version of the icon. I quizzed her through the list several times, and we often had to strengthen an icon. Problems included not being specific enough about the shade of the colour, the icon not being associated with the scene enough, or being too separate to retrieve all at once. One interesting issue was about encoding the order of the digits in the icon. She came up with a set of rules for this, like that the colours would procede from left to right of the icon, or from top to bottom, or large to small.
The first version of the python icon had too many loosely connected elements - like the python was staring at the sun - so I'm glad she came up with the poop. The sillier, more offensive, more sexual, or more emotional your mnemonic devices are, the better.
We also walked through the locations several times, and here we had to do some fine tuning too, when she skipped past one of them. So we made it essential, that she had some food to buy so that she would be sure to stop at the grocery store after the schoolbuses.
Once we had strong icons, and were reliably retrieving all the locations in the correct order, I put her into a trance and walked her through it again. I had her imagine it as real as possible, using all her senses, and I also encouraged her to imagine her icons in a lot of detail.
Was hypnosis necessary in this case? Probably not. But I think it helped settle the memory palace and the icons into her memory.
After only a couple of runs through, khatsha was retrieving all 40 digits perfectly. Then additional practice made it smoother and faster.
This process from beginning to end took about one hour.
I tested her yesterday, eight days later, and she was still perfect. I'll bet if she uses it once in a while, say every week for a while, then every month, then every year (this is the memorizing principle of spaced repetition), correcting it where digits go wrong, she could easily have it 20 years from now. And more digits too.
Because this is Divney's Adventures in Erotic Hypnosis and not Divney's Adventures in Rather Interesting Hypnosis, I'll go ahead and tell you what I did next.
I dropped her into trance again and gave her a trigger that would cause her to compulsively recite the list of digits, staring blankly at her webcam, in a robotic monotone. With each digit she would get more calm and mindless, until at the end she would be completely empty-headed and programmable, staring into the lens. In practice this is an eyes-open trance, and so it is an effective and very hot induction - and it even works via Whatsapp. And it helps motivate both of us to rehearse together...
As a result of this suggestion, and her hypnosis fetish, it seems there's a side effect of my memorization help: whenever she thinks about the digits of Pi, she gets turned on.
Oops!
Sunday, December 27, 2015
Monday, December 7, 2015
Induction via Whatsapp
Saturday, November 28, 2015
Stranger (An Erotic Hypnosis Story)
I open my eyes. There's a man lying across from me on the bed. I have no idea who he is.
He's looking at me, with a slightly smug expression, like I've been making goofy sounds in my sleep.
But I don't feel sleepy. Or hungover either. I'm wide awake; I notice that my body feels electric.
I'm naked, lying on top of the sheets. Huh - he’s naked too. About half a metre away. He has a nice body, definitely some muscles there, but it doesn’t ring a bell. And... now I'm checking out his dick. It’s sort of unfolding on its own. I feel my cheeks get hot and look away.
"Hi!" he says, and smiles. Nice beard, nice eyes...still nothin’.
"Hi...have we met?" I hear myself say.
"Pleased to meet you!" he says, smiling wider and extending his hand. Are we really doing this? "I'm Ben." A nice solid grip in the handshake. I'm so aware of his skin sliding on mine, and the warmth of his hand.
Now there's a silence. He's still looking at me.
He says, "Do you often find yourself naked in a hotel room with a stranger?"
It’s a hotel room. Stripey couch and everything. I peek at the window - the light around the edges of the blinds suggests noon. I’m in Italy, I remember that.
He's tracing a finger along my arm.
“Not really...I think...need..."
And it’s hit me, all at once, like when a rollercoaster hits the first downslope. I close the distance between us and press my naked body along his. Suddenly it's perfectly clear what my body is telling me: FUCK. NOW.
And I'm kissing him, and I don’t recognize the taste.
But this feels right. This is absolutely what I should be doing right now. My only concern is getting as much of my skin touching his as possible. And eating his face.
He unlocks from my lips. Well, I guess I needed to breathe eventually.
“I’ll bet you’ve never done something like this in your life, have you. You’re careful. You like to get to know someone first, and see if there’s a connection.”
“That’s right.” Is he making fun of me? The firmness I tried to put in my voice was probably undermined by the grinding I was doing on his thigh.
“So you never knew what it felt like to feel that flash of lust, and then just go for it. To do something very dangerous. To smell the new smell, to feel a new cock inside you. To let a strange man just have you.”
“Uhh.” Fuck. I can barely hear him over the heat. I’m riding his leg faster.
He looks away.
“I’ll bet you have even more rules about who you let hypnotize you. You’d never agree to trance with a total stranger.”
That stops me. “Ok, that’s really a different thing, I mean there’s trust involved, I...”
He wraps a chunk of my hair around his fist, and controls my head so that I’m looking right in his face. All of a sudden his eyes are the only thing I can see. It’s like the room lights were on a dimmer, that also made his eyes brighter, and bigger than the ceiling. He’s probably saying something, but I know I’m gone.
And a second later there’s a snap and I’m back. I’m actually frustrated - tranceus interruptus. He’s grinning and looking even more smug, across from me on the bed. “I knew it. You’re kind of trance slut, aren’t you? You opened your legs and your mind to a complete stranger, didn’t you? Who knows what trouble your lust and sluttiness is going to get you into?”
I’d like to construct an indignant comeback, but his fingers are doing incredible things between my legs, and that goes so nicely with the post-trance fuzziness. I’m pawing at his chest, and I hear myself gasp as my hand finds his erection.
A thought finally bubbles up through the murk. “All this... is a post-hypnotic suggestion thing, right?”
He laughs out loud, although there’s a satisfying little hitch in his laugh as my finger circles around the head of his cock.
“Took you long enough to figure out. You know prosopagnosia? That brain issue where you can’t recognize people’s faces? That’s what I did to you, except more so. And temporarily. We came here together, we are lovers, and we’ve been playing hypnosis games like this for over a year. Does that bring it back now?”
“...Not really. But I’m guessing that’s your fault too.” Somehow while delivering this speech he’s managed to maneuvre me onto my back with my legs over his shoulders. Normally I need more of a warmup, but my body is telling me, I’m warm enough.
“Yep!” He reaches down with confident touch, not quite in the style of any lover my brain will let me recall, and gets me ready. “At any time, I could snap my fingers and say ‘recognize’, and I’ll be back to good old me. But this is more exciting right now, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” he continues as he slides into me, “It’s also possible that I’m a hypnotist who just stepped out of the front door of my hotel, saw a girl on Via Tadino - UH - with an ass that made me horny as fuck, used my little street - HUNH - hypnosis pickup routine on her, and her natural curiosity and trance-sluttiness got her up here so I could - AH - rewrite her thoughts.”
He slows down, agonizingly, and he’s watching me.
But all I’m doing is grinding my hips around, desperate to get more of him, faster. He holds my hands down to stop me wriggling.
“You don’t give a shit right now, do you.”
“Please. Just keep going. Please.” And the strange man, above me and inside me, does.
He's looking at me, with a slightly smug expression, like I've been making goofy sounds in my sleep.
But I don't feel sleepy. Or hungover either. I'm wide awake; I notice that my body feels electric.
I'm naked, lying on top of the sheets. Huh - he’s naked too. About half a metre away. He has a nice body, definitely some muscles there, but it doesn’t ring a bell. And... now I'm checking out his dick. It’s sort of unfolding on its own. I feel my cheeks get hot and look away.
"Hi!" he says, and smiles. Nice beard, nice eyes...still nothin’.
"Hi...have we met?" I hear myself say.
"Pleased to meet you!" he says, smiling wider and extending his hand. Are we really doing this? "I'm Ben." A nice solid grip in the handshake. I'm so aware of his skin sliding on mine, and the warmth of his hand.
Now there's a silence. He's still looking at me.
He says, "Do you often find yourself naked in a hotel room with a stranger?"
It’s a hotel room. Stripey couch and everything. I peek at the window - the light around the edges of the blinds suggests noon. I’m in Italy, I remember that.
He's tracing a finger along my arm.
“Not really...I think...need..."
And it’s hit me, all at once, like when a rollercoaster hits the first downslope. I close the distance between us and press my naked body along his. Suddenly it's perfectly clear what my body is telling me: FUCK. NOW.
And I'm kissing him, and I don’t recognize the taste.
But this feels right. This is absolutely what I should be doing right now. My only concern is getting as much of my skin touching his as possible. And eating his face.
He unlocks from my lips. Well, I guess I needed to breathe eventually.
“I’ll bet you’ve never done something like this in your life, have you. You’re careful. You like to get to know someone first, and see if there’s a connection.”
“That’s right.” Is he making fun of me? The firmness I tried to put in my voice was probably undermined by the grinding I was doing on his thigh.
“So you never knew what it felt like to feel that flash of lust, and then just go for it. To do something very dangerous. To smell the new smell, to feel a new cock inside you. To let a strange man just have you.”
“Uhh.” Fuck. I can barely hear him over the heat. I’m riding his leg faster.
He looks away.
“I’ll bet you have even more rules about who you let hypnotize you. You’d never agree to trance with a total stranger.”
That stops me. “Ok, that’s really a different thing, I mean there’s trust involved, I...”
He wraps a chunk of my hair around his fist, and controls my head so that I’m looking right in his face. All of a sudden his eyes are the only thing I can see. It’s like the room lights were on a dimmer, that also made his eyes brighter, and bigger than the ceiling. He’s probably saying something, but I know I’m gone.
And a second later there’s a snap and I’m back. I’m actually frustrated - tranceus interruptus. He’s grinning and looking even more smug, across from me on the bed. “I knew it. You’re kind of trance slut, aren’t you? You opened your legs and your mind to a complete stranger, didn’t you? Who knows what trouble your lust and sluttiness is going to get you into?”
I’d like to construct an indignant comeback, but his fingers are doing incredible things between my legs, and that goes so nicely with the post-trance fuzziness. I’m pawing at his chest, and I hear myself gasp as my hand finds his erection.
A thought finally bubbles up through the murk. “All this... is a post-hypnotic suggestion thing, right?”
He laughs out loud, although there’s a satisfying little hitch in his laugh as my finger circles around the head of his cock.
“Took you long enough to figure out. You know prosopagnosia? That brain issue where you can’t recognize people’s faces? That’s what I did to you, except more so. And temporarily. We came here together, we are lovers, and we’ve been playing hypnosis games like this for over a year. Does that bring it back now?”
“...Not really. But I’m guessing that’s your fault too.” Somehow while delivering this speech he’s managed to maneuvre me onto my back with my legs over his shoulders. Normally I need more of a warmup, but my body is telling me, I’m warm enough.
“Yep!” He reaches down with confident touch, not quite in the style of any lover my brain will let me recall, and gets me ready. “At any time, I could snap my fingers and say ‘recognize’, and I’ll be back to good old me. But this is more exciting right now, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” he continues as he slides into me, “It’s also possible that I’m a hypnotist who just stepped out of the front door of my hotel, saw a girl on Via Tadino - UH - with an ass that made me horny as fuck, used my little street - HUNH - hypnosis pickup routine on her, and her natural curiosity and trance-sluttiness got her up here so I could - AH - rewrite her thoughts.”
He slows down, agonizingly, and he’s watching me.
But all I’m doing is grinding my hips around, desperate to get more of him, faster. He holds my hands down to stop me wriggling.
“You don’t give a shit right now, do you.”
“Please. Just keep going. Please.” And the strange man, above me and inside me, does.
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
An August Alla Grande
I can't get over how amazing August was. I travelled to extraordinary places for the first time, I got a lot of sunshine (me??), and most importantly, I got two visits from extraordinary women, travelling so many miles to see me. Like a primo and a secondo. Next to which all my previous erotic hypnosis experiences were like delicious antipasti. And somehow it happened here, in northern Italy, aka my kink wasteland.
It's just my dream, come to life: to have all the time in the world to explore D/s hypnosis with an eager and sexy partner, both of us racing to see how far into it we can go.
Practically every fantasy I've ever had, since I first started fantasizing, happened in some form. And on the flip side, I felt the explosive heat of making my partner's deep-held fantasies come true.
It's going to take a lot of processing, and the words "top drop" are coming to mind, but I take comfort in knowing I'm not the same, as a man and hypnotist. At a bare minimum I have a new, hefty treasure chest of crazy hot memories, and a chronicle of bizarre and wonderful occurrences to ponder over. Just the memory alone, of my partner's naked body collapsing helpless in my arms time and time again. Showing me so eloquently her trust, and my power. That changes me.
Besides the ragdoll scene I already blogged about, a sample of other moments I can't forget:
- My partner's obedience bravely fighting against the hypnotically-induced shame as she struggles to repeat the nasty phrases I'm giving her.
- Me saying, "You can't be sarcastic when you hypnotize. You can't just go, [sarcastic voice] go into a trance right now." And watching her stagger on the pavement, to my surprise.
- Posthypnotic triggers in an enormous, empty Catholic church.
- Meeting, and being delighted, by wild alter-egos I created in her.
More to come, maybe in the form of scene logs. Now this was a month!
It's just my dream, come to life: to have all the time in the world to explore D/s hypnosis with an eager and sexy partner, both of us racing to see how far into it we can go.
Practically every fantasy I've ever had, since I first started fantasizing, happened in some form. And on the flip side, I felt the explosive heat of making my partner's deep-held fantasies come true.
It's going to take a lot of processing, and the words "top drop" are coming to mind, but I take comfort in knowing I'm not the same, as a man and hypnotist. At a bare minimum I have a new, hefty treasure chest of crazy hot memories, and a chronicle of bizarre and wonderful occurrences to ponder over. Just the memory alone, of my partner's naked body collapsing helpless in my arms time and time again. Showing me so eloquently her trust, and my power. That changes me.
Besides the ragdoll scene I already blogged about, a sample of other moments I can't forget:
- My partner's obedience bravely fighting against the hypnotically-induced shame as she struggles to repeat the nasty phrases I'm giving her.
- Me saying, "You can't be sarcastic when you hypnotize. You can't just go, [sarcastic voice] go into a trance right now." And watching her stagger on the pavement, to my surprise.
- Posthypnotic triggers in an enormous, empty Catholic church.
- Meeting, and being delighted, by wild alter-egos I created in her.
More to come, maybe in the form of scene logs. Now this was a month!
Sunday, August 23, 2015
Ragdoll with a Collar (An Erotic Hypnosis Scene)
I put two fingers through the chrome ring of her collar and pulled, gently but firmly.
She's a trooper, and even as the post-hypnotic trigger kicked in, turning all her muscles to jelly, her hand kept bravely pumping my cock, until finally it too let go and went limp, resting against my thigh.
She was collapsed on her side on the bed. I rolled her body, naked except for the collar, onto her back. Her eyes were staring helplessly at the ceiling, her mouth hanging open a little. I lifted up her arm, and let it flop all the way back down. Ragdoll.
I'm not interested in fucking a doll. But I was interested, very interested, knowing that there was a bright woman in there, not in trance at all, feeling absolutely helpless and exposed, unable to move a muscle. And that she was getting off on it, wildly.
I stretched out alongside her. Plenty of time. I trailed the fingers of my right hand down her belly, and down an inner thigh. A creaky moan escaped out of her mouth, but the face didn't move a bit.
Then I raised myself up and grabbed her tits with both hands. I kneaded them aggressively and twisted the nipples - I wanted her to feel how I could use her body any way I wanted.
I moved to the end of the bed and pulled on her knees to spread her legs apart. It took some trouble, since her legs were dead weight without her helping. She couldn't.
I grazed her pussy lips, which was enough to hear her breathing change instantly. I could feel the moisture on my fingertips.
So I pushed a finger in. There was a gasp. I was treating her body like a plaything, for me to poke and explore. I fucked her with my finger for a while. The response was certainly muted, so I had to imagine what was going on in her mind. I knew just the right curl of my finger to drive her crazy, but she couldn't express it.
Suddenly I wanted her to. Switching to lightly, rapidly rubbing her slippery clit, I moved up her body, and pressed my left index finger against her forehead. The post-hypnotic trigger to allow energy to flood back into her body - to stop being a ragdoll.
Within seconds, her face came alive. She was frowning and opening and closing her mouth. The noise level got a lot louder. Now her whole torso was active, twisting and squirming.
I took my hand away from her pussy. "Sit up," I said.
She did, breathing hard.
"Put your hands on my shoulders, and look into my eyes."
I wanted to see the exact moment she felt overcome. I watched carefully as I pulled on her collar ring. And I saw it, in her eyes. And I feasted on that.
She tipped forward and crumpled into me, head sliding down my bare chest. I stroked her hair.
I hoisted her up by the armpits a bit, and then tossed her back down on
the bed. Her head thumped into the pillow.
I turned her on her side and pulled her into a spoon. My hard cock
nestled in her ass crack, and she whimpered a little.
"I could just take your ass right now, and there's nothing you could do
about it, is there."
A louder whimper.
"In fact it's so relaxed right now it would welcome me in. You couldn't tighten up at all. "
But I didn't go that way. (I have a lot of big ass talk but the real thing is only for rare occasions.) Instead I let her onto her back again, and knelt on either side of her chest. I rubbed my cock along her cheek. The length of it stretched up alongside her staring eyes.
Then I stood beside the bed and stroked my cock, keeping it hovering over her body as my pleasure built. I reached over and put my hand on her chin, tilting her head so that she was forced to stare at my erection. After a while, a bubble of spit appeared at the corner of her mouth, illustrating her drooling longing to take me in there.
Or maybe it was the the posthypnotic salivation suggestion. That could be it.
Man I love hypnosis.
She's a trooper, and even as the post-hypnotic trigger kicked in, turning all her muscles to jelly, her hand kept bravely pumping my cock, until finally it too let go and went limp, resting against my thigh.
She was collapsed on her side on the bed. I rolled her body, naked except for the collar, onto her back. Her eyes were staring helplessly at the ceiling, her mouth hanging open a little. I lifted up her arm, and let it flop all the way back down. Ragdoll.
I'm not interested in fucking a doll. But I was interested, very interested, knowing that there was a bright woman in there, not in trance at all, feeling absolutely helpless and exposed, unable to move a muscle. And that she was getting off on it, wildly.
I stretched out alongside her. Plenty of time. I trailed the fingers of my right hand down her belly, and down an inner thigh. A creaky moan escaped out of her mouth, but the face didn't move a bit.
Then I raised myself up and grabbed her tits with both hands. I kneaded them aggressively and twisted the nipples - I wanted her to feel how I could use her body any way I wanted.
I moved to the end of the bed and pulled on her knees to spread her legs apart. It took some trouble, since her legs were dead weight without her helping. She couldn't.
I grazed her pussy lips, which was enough to hear her breathing change instantly. I could feel the moisture on my fingertips.
So I pushed a finger in. There was a gasp. I was treating her body like a plaything, for me to poke and explore. I fucked her with my finger for a while. The response was certainly muted, so I had to imagine what was going on in her mind. I knew just the right curl of my finger to drive her crazy, but she couldn't express it.
Suddenly I wanted her to. Switching to lightly, rapidly rubbing her slippery clit, I moved up her body, and pressed my left index finger against her forehead. The post-hypnotic trigger to allow energy to flood back into her body - to stop being a ragdoll.
Within seconds, her face came alive. She was frowning and opening and closing her mouth. The noise level got a lot louder. Now her whole torso was active, twisting and squirming.
I took my hand away from her pussy. "Sit up," I said.
She did, breathing hard.
"Put your hands on my shoulders, and look into my eyes."
I wanted to see the exact moment she felt overcome. I watched carefully as I pulled on her collar ring. And I saw it, in her eyes. And I feasted on that.
She tipped forward and crumpled into me, head sliding down my bare chest. I stroked her hair.
I hoisted her up by the armpits a bit, and then tossed her back down on
the bed. Her head thumped into the pillow.
I turned her on her side and pulled her into a spoon. My hard cock
nestled in her ass crack, and she whimpered a little.
"I could just take your ass right now, and there's nothing you could do
about it, is there."
A louder whimper.
"In fact it's so relaxed right now it would welcome me in. You couldn't tighten up at all. "
But I didn't go that way. (I have a lot of big ass talk but the real thing is only for rare occasions.) Instead I let her onto her back again, and knelt on either side of her chest. I rubbed my cock along her cheek. The length of it stretched up alongside her staring eyes.
Then I stood beside the bed and stroked my cock, keeping it hovering over her body as my pleasure built. I reached over and put my hand on her chin, tilting her head so that she was forced to stare at my erection. After a while, a bubble of spit appeared at the corner of her mouth, illustrating her drooling longing to take me in there.
Or maybe it was the the posthypnotic salivation suggestion. That could be it.
Man I love hypnosis.
Saturday, July 11, 2015
Resistance Training (An Erotic Hypnosis Scene)
You said you're interested in doing a resistance induction, but I'm not interested doing that with you.
I think your mind is already too weak to my hypnosis - it wouldn't be a challenge for me. You'd give in without much of a struggle.
The only way I would do it with you is if you agreed to resistance training. Training to teach you how to resist my hypnosis, and give you a fighting chance.
So you agree to be trained by me?
Good. So you have to pay close attention, and do exactly what I tell you to do.
Before we even get started, you've probably noticed a problem, which is where to look. You might think you shouldn't look in my eyes, because they already have so much power over you, but in fact you have to. You have to watch my face to be able to catch all of my moves, and resist them.
But you have to be careful not to stare, don't hold your eyes open artificially - you'll tire them out.
Above all don't let your eyes close and stay closed. That will be the sign that you've lost. That you've surrendered completely. There's no coming back from that. You go all the way into trance, helplessly.
If find that your eyes start blinking quickly, that's dangerous, it could be a warning sign that you're about to give in. So don't do that.
I suggest maintaining a regular rhythm - say two seconds open, one second closed. You have to be very careful to open up those eyes again after the one second, even if it feels like a lot of effort and they feel so good staying closed. If they stay closed, you've lost.
You may have noticed my voice has taken on a hypnotic cadence. That's to help you learn to resist it. Don't let it just carry you along, don't tune out and let it flow directly into your subconscious mind. Focus on each word and resist it.
And remember your blinking.
Now we can begin.
There are three important rules to remember. Rule number one: don't think about going into trance.
Don't think about how good it feels to be in trance, not needing to worry about anything, just drifting and following my voice. Spacey, floaty, peaceful and ecstatic, your mind and your body.
Don't think about inductions we've done in the past: slow, luxurious, seductive inductions, where you could feel my voice massaging away your consciousness bit by bit.
Don't think about instantaneous inductions, responding to my reinduction trigger, the glorious feeling of sliding all the way into a deep trance in the space of a few seconds, letting go all at once.
If you start thinking about going into trance, you might as well just give up NOW. (snap)
...
And coming up now, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Oh dear - that wasn't very good was it. You went into trance, just listening to the instructions. And that was only rule number one. You need to try a little harder, ok?
Rule number two: don't make it sexual.
I'm worried that this might really be your weak point. If you associate hypnosis with sexy thoughts, it makes resisting so much harder.
Because your pussy can override your willpower. Imagine this: you're touching yourself, and it's feeling so good, building up to such a frenzy of excitement and arousal, building more and more and more, until you're right on the edge of an orgasm, you can feel it right there, it will only take another second of stimulating yourself and you'll explode into pleasure...
And - you stop.
And you try to think of anything but touching yourself.
That's what it feels like to resist dropping into trance, if you make the mistake of making it sexual. That sexual frustration, and that overwhelming urge to take that last step and go over the edge. Like craving an orgasm so badly. So that your whole body aches for it. But denying yourself all that pleasure.
If you get turned on at all, if you let your pussy influence your thinking, you might as well give up NOW. (snap)
...
And coming up now, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Again, I'm not sure how hard you're really trying. This is only the training, remember, you shouldn't have to be resisting anything yet. Only a real trance slut would already be going into trance, at the slightest suggestion.
In fact it's the time that most people find wears them down. They might start out with a lot of willpower, but it's so tiring to fight against a resistance induction, so very tiring, and it becomes more and more tempting over time to just give in to the tiredness.
But the thing is, I've barely started. Yikes.
But never mind, rule number three, and this might be the most important for you: don't think about submission.
I know you have a powerful submissive side, but try to suppress it. You've even submitted to me, many times, letting this voice tell you what to do, and taking pleasure in obeying every order and pleasing me, but you have to wipe that from your memory.
Thoughts may float into your mind, of times when you felt so submissive, kneeling and offering yourself, surrendering your body and your mind to a more powerful will, all the things you did in service, times when you were praised or disciplined, but you can't dwell on them. You can't let them become more vivid and arousing.
If there's any part of you that wants to lose and submit, to that impressive dom in your imagination, it's like you've already lost.
If you go into subspace, even a little bit, you might as well give up NOW. (snap)
...
And rising up out of trance, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Well that didn't go well at all.
You're much further gone than I thought. You mind is already so weak and compliant to my hypnosis.
By the way. I should have mentioned this at the beginning, but if you fail the resistance training, it actually makes your will weaker to me rather than stronger. We'd better start all over again.
--
This is a scene I really had. And it was everything I hoped for when I schemed it up, thanks to my talented and delightful trance partner, who was also my inspiration. If you want to know more about resistance inductions, there's a very nice section in Wiseguy's new book, The Mind Play Study Guide.
I think your mind is already too weak to my hypnosis - it wouldn't be a challenge for me. You'd give in without much of a struggle.
The only way I would do it with you is if you agreed to resistance training. Training to teach you how to resist my hypnosis, and give you a fighting chance.
So you agree to be trained by me?
Good. So you have to pay close attention, and do exactly what I tell you to do.
Before we even get started, you've probably noticed a problem, which is where to look. You might think you shouldn't look in my eyes, because they already have so much power over you, but in fact you have to. You have to watch my face to be able to catch all of my moves, and resist them.
But you have to be careful not to stare, don't hold your eyes open artificially - you'll tire them out.
Above all don't let your eyes close and stay closed. That will be the sign that you've lost. That you've surrendered completely. There's no coming back from that. You go all the way into trance, helplessly.
If find that your eyes start blinking quickly, that's dangerous, it could be a warning sign that you're about to give in. So don't do that.
I suggest maintaining a regular rhythm - say two seconds open, one second closed. You have to be very careful to open up those eyes again after the one second, even if it feels like a lot of effort and they feel so good staying closed. If they stay closed, you've lost.
You may have noticed my voice has taken on a hypnotic cadence. That's to help you learn to resist it. Don't let it just carry you along, don't tune out and let it flow directly into your subconscious mind. Focus on each word and resist it.
And remember your blinking.
Now we can begin.
There are three important rules to remember. Rule number one: don't think about going into trance.
Don't think about how good it feels to be in trance, not needing to worry about anything, just drifting and following my voice. Spacey, floaty, peaceful and ecstatic, your mind and your body.
Don't think about inductions we've done in the past: slow, luxurious, seductive inductions, where you could feel my voice massaging away your consciousness bit by bit.
Don't think about instantaneous inductions, responding to my reinduction trigger, the glorious feeling of sliding all the way into a deep trance in the space of a few seconds, letting go all at once.
If you start thinking about going into trance, you might as well just give up NOW. (snap)
...
And coming up now, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Oh dear - that wasn't very good was it. You went into trance, just listening to the instructions. And that was only rule number one. You need to try a little harder, ok?
Rule number two: don't make it sexual.
I'm worried that this might really be your weak point. If you associate hypnosis with sexy thoughts, it makes resisting so much harder.
Because your pussy can override your willpower. Imagine this: you're touching yourself, and it's feeling so good, building up to such a frenzy of excitement and arousal, building more and more and more, until you're right on the edge of an orgasm, you can feel it right there, it will only take another second of stimulating yourself and you'll explode into pleasure...
And - you stop.
And you try to think of anything but touching yourself.
That's what it feels like to resist dropping into trance, if you make the mistake of making it sexual. That sexual frustration, and that overwhelming urge to take that last step and go over the edge. Like craving an orgasm so badly. So that your whole body aches for it. But denying yourself all that pleasure.
If you get turned on at all, if you let your pussy influence your thinking, you might as well give up NOW. (snap)
...
And coming up now, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Again, I'm not sure how hard you're really trying. This is only the training, remember, you shouldn't have to be resisting anything yet. Only a real trance slut would already be going into trance, at the slightest suggestion.
In fact it's the time that most people find wears them down. They might start out with a lot of willpower, but it's so tiring to fight against a resistance induction, so very tiring, and it becomes more and more tempting over time to just give in to the tiredness.
But the thing is, I've barely started. Yikes.
But never mind, rule number three, and this might be the most important for you: don't think about submission.
I know you have a powerful submissive side, but try to suppress it. You've even submitted to me, many times, letting this voice tell you what to do, and taking pleasure in obeying every order and pleasing me, but you have to wipe that from your memory.
Thoughts may float into your mind, of times when you felt so submissive, kneeling and offering yourself, surrendering your body and your mind to a more powerful will, all the things you did in service, times when you were praised or disciplined, but you can't dwell on them. You can't let them become more vivid and arousing.
If there's any part of you that wants to lose and submit, to that impressive dom in your imagination, it's like you've already lost.
If you go into subspace, even a little bit, you might as well give up NOW. (snap)
...
And rising up out of trance, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Well that didn't go well at all.
You're much further gone than I thought. You mind is already so weak and compliant to my hypnosis.
By the way. I should have mentioned this at the beginning, but if you fail the resistance training, it actually makes your will weaker to me rather than stronger. We'd better start all over again.
--
This is a scene I really had. And it was everything I hoped for when I schemed it up, thanks to my talented and delightful trance partner, who was also my inspiration. If you want to know more about resistance inductions, there's a very nice section in Wiseguy's new book, The Mind Play Study Guide.
Wednesday, June 10, 2015
Don't You Know It's Wrong? (An Erotic Hypnosis Scene)
Anna calls herself a "recovered Catholic". And there was a lot of shit to recover from, from the stories she's told me. When puberty came, her religious upbringing and her awakening libido smashed into each other over and over like monster cars. Even as she was getting more involved in the church, becoming an altar server, at home she was struggling with her fantasies, and her temptations to self-pleasure. She made endless rules and resolutions, all of which would hold for a few days or weeks but then fail explosively. And then the remorse would come.
All the more since her fantasies involved not just sex, but being whipped and spanked, tied up, humiliated and dominated. Sometimes by a girl. After one particularly confessional visit to confession, the priest was so shocked that he sent her for a course of youth counselling at the church. They didn't help her feel any more normal.
She moved away from the church in late adolescence and worked hard on herself for many years, until she became the healthy, well-adjusted super-kinky slut she is today. Now the biggest remnant is the medal of Saint Sebastian she wears - because "he's hot" and "he's clearly in complete subspace due to the high gauge needle play he's doing."
But one day she confided in me: those secret, hellfire-heated sessions alone in my bedroom, when all my self-control failed, led to the strongest orgasms I've ever had.
So we made a plan.
--
Her eyes were wide and watering, staring helplessly into mine, as I hypnotized her for the Nth time that night. I was kneeling above her, with my hand resting on her throat. By this time her mind was mush. She was not just ready, but eager to absorb and obey any commands I wanted to give her.
I told her: "Just for tonight, when you hear the phrase 'Don't you know it's wrong?', you'll feel all those old feelings of shame and guilt flooding back into you. And at the exact same time, the sexual heat and arousal that came along with it. Only the feelings - you won't have the same scary thoughts. But both the shame and the arousal will build each and every time I say 'Don't you know it's wrong'. Furthermore, whatever dirty thing you're doing, you won't be able to stop yourself. In fact, you'll find yourself increasing the intensity. So the shame and the arousal and the pleasure from what you're doing will all swirl together. Then when I say, 'Mischief managed', all that shame and guilt will drain away, and you'll be back to your normal shameless self. "
I saw her eyelids drop down and flutter rapidly for a full second, the way they do when her mind is reprogramming itself.
"1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Fully awake."
She blinked a lot, and looked around the ceiling as I rolled off her. "I feel the same."
"That's right, that's how post-hypnotic suggestions work, remember? But look around. Anna, are you aware that you're lying naked in bed next to a naked man you're not even married to? Don't you know it's wrong?"
Her cheeks reddened instantly - she's a blusher. Oh, this is going to be good.
"Ok, I uh felt that." She rolled her pelvis a little from side to side, not looking at me.
"Anna, touch yourself."
"Do I have to? I know what you're going to do."
"Yes, you have to."
She sighed as her right hand trailed down her belly and started making slow circles around her clit.
"Anna, you're touching yourself. Don't you know it's wrong? That's what dirty girls do, Anna. Bad girls. What you're doing is so dirty. Don't you know it's wrong?"
By the second time I said it, her hand was moving in a blur, and her hips were grinding up and down off the bed. Her face was turned completely away from me, hair splayed across the pillow, but I could see her cheek was red. She was whining and whimpering, but she also sounded like she was trying to suppress it - which she never ever does.
I grabbed her shoulder. "Look at me."
She shook her head and moaned.
"Look at me!" I said in my command voice.
She shifted her shoulders and turned to look at me, face scrunched up and bright red. I took her right wrist and quickly pinned it beside her head.
"Can't you even stop yourself? You're such an out of control sinner! Don't you know it's wrong, what you're doing?"
At the same time her left hand snapped to work, starting at the same furious pace. She began making those gasping, sobbing sounds that I know so well.
"You're so overcome with lust you can't stop yourself? You'd better not come - don't you know it's wrong?"
It hit her like a freight train, and she was gasping and sobbing and crying out. The only part that didn't leave the bed at some point was her right wrist, because I was holding it down.
I pulled her left hand away and pinned it on the other side of her head. "You're such a bad, filthy girl Anna. Come and lie across my lap and take your punishment."
I sat up against the headboard, and patted my lap.
Brushing against my rigid cock, and still unable to meet my eyes, Anna slid across my lap. Her skin was hot and sweaty.
I began delivering hard smacks to her ass.
I heard her voice even though her face was pressed into the sheets. "Mmmm. Mm!" She began squirming a little between smacks.
"Anna, are you *enjoying* your punishment? Don't you know it's wrong? You're not supposed to enjoy your punishment! I'm going to have to punish you even more."
Her ass was now thrusting up in the air, inviting each smack. Her breathing was hard and fast. She shifted along my legs and began to grind her pussy into my knee.
"*Such* a wanton slut! I can feel your shameful wetness. You can't stop pleasuring yourself, even when you're supposed to be receiving your punishment. Don't you know it's wrong?"
"I do, I do!" she whined, and began grinding even harder.
I spanked both ass cheeks thoroughly, shaming her the whole time.
Then I wrapped my hand in her hair and pulled her up to a sitting position next to me. "Mischief managed."
Her eyes flicked to me, and a big devilish grin grew on her face.
"Are you doing ok?"
"Mm-hmm." she said, nodding.
I stood up on the bed and she went right for my cock, slipping her mouth over it.
"Anna," I said.
She rolled her eyes but kept moving her mouth up and down.
"Don't you know it's wrong?"
Her face, which had faded in colour, went back up to full blush, and her eyes squeezed shut. Her speed doubled.
"What you're doing is absolutely filthy. This is what totally depraved bad girls do. You're becoming a dirty, cocksucking slut. What would St. Anthony think? Don't you know it's wrong?"
She moaned around my cock. The rapid friction was threatening to make me shoot prematurely, so I grabbed her hair and pulled her off my cock.
"Look at me. Say you're sorry."
"I'm sorry." Her voice was shaky and barely audible. She was kneeling below me.
"Say you promise you won't do it anymore."
"I promise I won't do it anymore."
"Are you ready to repent and be a good girl?"
She nodded. She looked almost in tears.
"Good."
I let go of her hair and pushed my cock right up to her lips. She let out a whine and then swallowed my cock again, eyes looking off to the side in distress. Almost immediately she was back up to the same pace.
"Anna, you promised! You vowed you would stop being such a filthy cocksucker. Don't you - uh - know it's wrong? Are you even sorry, or - um - can you just not stop yourself around cock?"
In a little while I pulled her off again.
"On your hands and knees, ass in the air."
She rushed to comply.
"Anna, you're pointing your gaping wet pussy at a man. Don't you know it's wrong? Don't you know it's wrong to offer yourself up for sex, in such a degrading position, like some kind of animal in heat? Can you even stop yourself?"
She was whining loudly, hips twitching.
I slipped the end of my cock into her and she pushed back on it until I was all the way inside. Then we were fucking.
"Ah fuck. You're being such an eager fucking slut Anna. Pumping back on me like this. Don't you know it's wrong? Wanton. Shameless. Whorish. Uh fuck, oh god... Don't you, Don't you know this is wrong?"
I got a strong grip on both of her hips, and held her still, my cock deep inside, my arm muscles forcefully opposing her attempts to thrust.
I gave her a powerful smack on her right asscheek, and all the sound and fighting stopped. An instant later I felt her pussy grip my cock tightly, and then ripple, as she cried out.
--
It was later, after we had cooled down and cuddled. There was a silence, and then Anna started laughing uproariously, head tilted back on the pillow.
"What?"
She rolled over and punched me in the arm. It hurt. "'What would St. Anthony think'?"
"Hey I thought I did pretty good for a protestant heathen! Ow, hey, ow!"
--
This story is not something that's happened. But I want it to.
All the more since her fantasies involved not just sex, but being whipped and spanked, tied up, humiliated and dominated. Sometimes by a girl. After one particularly confessional visit to confession, the priest was so shocked that he sent her for a course of youth counselling at the church. They didn't help her feel any more normal.
She moved away from the church in late adolescence and worked hard on herself for many years, until she became the healthy, well-adjusted super-kinky slut she is today. Now the biggest remnant is the medal of Saint Sebastian she wears - because "he's hot" and "he's clearly in complete subspace due to the high gauge needle play he's doing."
But one day she confided in me: those secret, hellfire-heated sessions alone in my bedroom, when all my self-control failed, led to the strongest orgasms I've ever had.
So we made a plan.
--
Her eyes were wide and watering, staring helplessly into mine, as I hypnotized her for the Nth time that night. I was kneeling above her, with my hand resting on her throat. By this time her mind was mush. She was not just ready, but eager to absorb and obey any commands I wanted to give her.
I told her: "Just for tonight, when you hear the phrase 'Don't you know it's wrong?', you'll feel all those old feelings of shame and guilt flooding back into you. And at the exact same time, the sexual heat and arousal that came along with it. Only the feelings - you won't have the same scary thoughts. But both the shame and the arousal will build each and every time I say 'Don't you know it's wrong'. Furthermore, whatever dirty thing you're doing, you won't be able to stop yourself. In fact, you'll find yourself increasing the intensity. So the shame and the arousal and the pleasure from what you're doing will all swirl together. Then when I say, 'Mischief managed', all that shame and guilt will drain away, and you'll be back to your normal shameless self. "
I saw her eyelids drop down and flutter rapidly for a full second, the way they do when her mind is reprogramming itself.
"1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Fully awake."
She blinked a lot, and looked around the ceiling as I rolled off her. "I feel the same."
"That's right, that's how post-hypnotic suggestions work, remember? But look around. Anna, are you aware that you're lying naked in bed next to a naked man you're not even married to? Don't you know it's wrong?"
Her cheeks reddened instantly - she's a blusher. Oh, this is going to be good.
"Ok, I uh felt that." She rolled her pelvis a little from side to side, not looking at me.
"Anna, touch yourself."
"Do I have to? I know what you're going to do."
"Yes, you have to."
She sighed as her right hand trailed down her belly and started making slow circles around her clit.
"Anna, you're touching yourself. Don't you know it's wrong? That's what dirty girls do, Anna. Bad girls. What you're doing is so dirty. Don't you know it's wrong?"
By the second time I said it, her hand was moving in a blur, and her hips were grinding up and down off the bed. Her face was turned completely away from me, hair splayed across the pillow, but I could see her cheek was red. She was whining and whimpering, but she also sounded like she was trying to suppress it - which she never ever does.
I grabbed her shoulder. "Look at me."
She shook her head and moaned.
"Look at me!" I said in my command voice.
She shifted her shoulders and turned to look at me, face scrunched up and bright red. I took her right wrist and quickly pinned it beside her head.
"Can't you even stop yourself? You're such an out of control sinner! Don't you know it's wrong, what you're doing?"
At the same time her left hand snapped to work, starting at the same furious pace. She began making those gasping, sobbing sounds that I know so well.
"You're so overcome with lust you can't stop yourself? You'd better not come - don't you know it's wrong?"
It hit her like a freight train, and she was gasping and sobbing and crying out. The only part that didn't leave the bed at some point was her right wrist, because I was holding it down.
I pulled her left hand away and pinned it on the other side of her head. "You're such a bad, filthy girl Anna. Come and lie across my lap and take your punishment."
I sat up against the headboard, and patted my lap.
Brushing against my rigid cock, and still unable to meet my eyes, Anna slid across my lap. Her skin was hot and sweaty.
I began delivering hard smacks to her ass.
I heard her voice even though her face was pressed into the sheets. "Mmmm. Mm!" She began squirming a little between smacks.
"Anna, are you *enjoying* your punishment? Don't you know it's wrong? You're not supposed to enjoy your punishment! I'm going to have to punish you even more."
Her ass was now thrusting up in the air, inviting each smack. Her breathing was hard and fast. She shifted along my legs and began to grind her pussy into my knee.
"*Such* a wanton slut! I can feel your shameful wetness. You can't stop pleasuring yourself, even when you're supposed to be receiving your punishment. Don't you know it's wrong?"
"I do, I do!" she whined, and began grinding even harder.
I spanked both ass cheeks thoroughly, shaming her the whole time.
Then I wrapped my hand in her hair and pulled her up to a sitting position next to me. "Mischief managed."
Her eyes flicked to me, and a big devilish grin grew on her face.
"Are you doing ok?"
"Mm-hmm." she said, nodding.
I stood up on the bed and she went right for my cock, slipping her mouth over it.
"Anna," I said.
She rolled her eyes but kept moving her mouth up and down.
"Don't you know it's wrong?"
Her face, which had faded in colour, went back up to full blush, and her eyes squeezed shut. Her speed doubled.
"What you're doing is absolutely filthy. This is what totally depraved bad girls do. You're becoming a dirty, cocksucking slut. What would St. Anthony think? Don't you know it's wrong?"
She moaned around my cock. The rapid friction was threatening to make me shoot prematurely, so I grabbed her hair and pulled her off my cock.
"Look at me. Say you're sorry."
"I'm sorry." Her voice was shaky and barely audible. She was kneeling below me.
"Say you promise you won't do it anymore."
"I promise I won't do it anymore."
"Are you ready to repent and be a good girl?"
She nodded. She looked almost in tears.
"Good."
I let go of her hair and pushed my cock right up to her lips. She let out a whine and then swallowed my cock again, eyes looking off to the side in distress. Almost immediately she was back up to the same pace.
"Anna, you promised! You vowed you would stop being such a filthy cocksucker. Don't you - uh - know it's wrong? Are you even sorry, or - um - can you just not stop yourself around cock?"
In a little while I pulled her off again.
"On your hands and knees, ass in the air."
She rushed to comply.
"Anna, you're pointing your gaping wet pussy at a man. Don't you know it's wrong? Don't you know it's wrong to offer yourself up for sex, in such a degrading position, like some kind of animal in heat? Can you even stop yourself?"
She was whining loudly, hips twitching.
I slipped the end of my cock into her and she pushed back on it until I was all the way inside. Then we were fucking.
"Ah fuck. You're being such an eager fucking slut Anna. Pumping back on me like this. Don't you know it's wrong? Wanton. Shameless. Whorish. Uh fuck, oh god... Don't you, Don't you know this is wrong?"
I got a strong grip on both of her hips, and held her still, my cock deep inside, my arm muscles forcefully opposing her attempts to thrust.
I gave her a powerful smack on her right asscheek, and all the sound and fighting stopped. An instant later I felt her pussy grip my cock tightly, and then ripple, as she cried out.
--
It was later, after we had cooled down and cuddled. There was a silence, and then Anna started laughing uproariously, head tilted back on the pillow.
"What?"
She rolled over and punched me in the arm. It hurt. "'What would St. Anthony think'?"
"Hey I thought I did pretty good for a protestant heathen! Ow, hey, ow!"
--
This story is not something that's happened. But I want it to.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Hypno-Tripping in the Swiss Alps
I got invited to come to Zürich and talk to some kinksters about hypnosis, and I'm ecstatic we made it happen. I was invited and hosted by the wonderful sidonia - who I met in a mall foodcourt in Boston 3 years ago - and our terrific practice skype hypnosis session beforehand told me we could also make a strong demo together.
Sidonia told me she wanted to experience hypnotic face slapping. Since our first trances went well, and since it is a big part of her kink that she has already explored extensively, I agreed. The result was dramatic. Each time I slapped my hand on my chest (because through Skype a handclap sounded too much like a finger snap) her head turned violently to the side, and I could see that it had an emotional impact too. She told me later that although the sting of impact wasn't comepletely real to her, the fear and anticipation of each slap, and the rush of endorphins afterwards, were. She also felt the hot glow in that cheek.
The mountains and hills of Switzerland out the train window were just as spectacular as I imagined them. In the evening we drove out to this combined TNG Switzerland/Seilschaften event, at a rope dojo that was to die for - mats everywhere, something like 12 hard points on the ceiling, and nice subdued lighting. At least 50 swiss kinksters showed up! I would have been super nervous, except that the group was *so* warm and friendly. Not to mention sexy.
I just didn't let myself think about the fact that I was presenting for real, in front of my biggest crowd ever, and so I had a wonderful time in my hour. I talked about myths of hypnosis, and then I did the demo with sidonia. After modelling some negotiation, I began the induction, and the room faded away for me, along with any lingering nervousness, until it was just the two of us. This time the hypnotic slaps were even more dramatic, and I saw at least two audience members flinch powerfully along with her. (in the future I should warn about the possibility of collateral trancing.) I was blown away by the talent and bravery of my partner, and I so happy we could show a little of what makes hypnokink so compelling.
There were a lot of terrific questions from the audience, and then I led a participatory exercise about kinaesthetic inductions. It turned out to tie in well with the second workshop, which was an amazing rope-less rope class about physical connection and rapport.
Then the evening turned into a lot of high-level rope and impact play, with some truly impressive suspensions. I didn't even bother to try some rope with someone - apparently I'm letting that go completely for now - but I did have some lovely little hypno scenes. Major points to this event for having amazing cake, and really interesting people to hang out with at quieter moments.
Saturday was also an amazing day for sexy hypnosis, where I got to play with another lifelong hypnofetishist. I might write about it at a later date. Even more importantly: I got to dine with SMdiClasse and plastika, and *finally* saw Mad Max: Fury Road on the big screen in english.
On Sunday, sidonia brought me on a hike up mount Rigi. Besides the glorious views of the hills and lakes and oh-so-photogenic cows, as well as the lovely historic mountain railroad, we were excited to do a little mountaintop hypnosis. Sidonia told me she wanted to trip: to use hypnosis to get into a psychedelic mental state similar to what she has experienced with mushrooms and LSD, where sounds and sights become enormously intense, blending together in strange ways and causing wild emotions and fancies.
I hypnotized her on a bench overlooking the lake, not far from a mountainside meditation center, which seemed appropriate. As I sat beside her and described the drug flowing through her system, and affecting each of her senses in turn, I could feel mself perceiving the world differently too. The bits of tree fluff floating in the air through sunbeams seemed to shine, and it was as though I could see the leaves of the trees as one morphing mass, inseparable from the spaces between them. But since I've never done hallucinogens I don't know how similar my experience was - I was going by her long and vivid description of what it's like for her.
Beginner's mistake: talking her through the nausea stage of shrooms kicking in. Not necessary!
It was wonderful to watch her dreamily gazing around, or cocking her head to one side to listen better - never once looking at me, because as she told me on shrooms human flesh is ugly to her. I brought her back and gave her a post-hypnotic trigger to return to that state, even outside of trance, and we continued our ramble down the mountain.
Sidonia also tripped with me in a peaceful dark forest area partway down (the top of Riga is extremely busy with tourists, since the train goes right up there and there's a huge restaurant etc - so different at the summit than our northern Italian mountains, let alone Canada), and then that evening sitting outdoors at a restaurant on the Reuss river in Lucerne. Again, I couldn't experience what she was experiencing, but I was fascinated to hear about it.
In one long weekend I did more hypnosis than I have in months. This should hold me for a while - though I'm having plenty of wistful thoughts about the people I spent time with. Sure wish it wasn't 7 hours away.
Two things I want to improve on: a couple of times, with new people with whom I didn't feel that confident, and in the busy party environment, I fell back on rote inductions and didn't truly commit to the session. In the future I want to be fully present and use all my ingenuity to explore a hypnotic experience with someone, even as we're still learning our way around each other.
The other thing is that most of my play was ideas my partners came up with. This is awesome to me, and completely in my comfort zone. I completely get off on being a "service dom" (as I heard Wiseguy describe himself on his episode of the Sex Nerd Sandra podcast), giving my partners pleasure, and making their fantasies come true. I'm delighted by the creative requests my partners come up with, and the challenge in realizing them, requests like, "I'd like to experience being tied up in a sitting position and lifted up into the sky above Röntgenwiese by hundreds of balloons." The depiction of that she sent me is now one of my most prized (digital) possessions:
At the same time, I should be more forward about proposing things I want. I always have plenty of ideas about what I'd like to do to someone (or with someone, if they prefer a non-D/s vibe) in trance, but I'm shy about it. It only come up when they say, "what do you want to do?" Obviously I feel the most on solid ground consent-wise if someone brings their fantasy to me, but I have the skills to ask for things in a light and open-ended way, and I should use them.
Sidonia told me she wanted to experience hypnotic face slapping. Since our first trances went well, and since it is a big part of her kink that she has already explored extensively, I agreed. The result was dramatic. Each time I slapped my hand on my chest (because through Skype a handclap sounded too much like a finger snap) her head turned violently to the side, and I could see that it had an emotional impact too. She told me later that although the sting of impact wasn't comepletely real to her, the fear and anticipation of each slap, and the rush of endorphins afterwards, were. She also felt the hot glow in that cheek.
The mountains and hills of Switzerland out the train window were just as spectacular as I imagined them. In the evening we drove out to this combined TNG Switzerland/Seilschaften event, at a rope dojo that was to die for - mats everywhere, something like 12 hard points on the ceiling, and nice subdued lighting. At least 50 swiss kinksters showed up! I would have been super nervous, except that the group was *so* warm and friendly. Not to mention sexy.
I just didn't let myself think about the fact that I was presenting for real, in front of my biggest crowd ever, and so I had a wonderful time in my hour. I talked about myths of hypnosis, and then I did the demo with sidonia. After modelling some negotiation, I began the induction, and the room faded away for me, along with any lingering nervousness, until it was just the two of us. This time the hypnotic slaps were even more dramatic, and I saw at least two audience members flinch powerfully along with her. (in the future I should warn about the possibility of collateral trancing.) I was blown away by the talent and bravery of my partner, and I so happy we could show a little of what makes hypnokink so compelling.
There were a lot of terrific questions from the audience, and then I led a participatory exercise about kinaesthetic inductions. It turned out to tie in well with the second workshop, which was an amazing rope-less rope class about physical connection and rapport.
Then the evening turned into a lot of high-level rope and impact play, with some truly impressive suspensions. I didn't even bother to try some rope with someone - apparently I'm letting that go completely for now - but I did have some lovely little hypno scenes. Major points to this event for having amazing cake, and really interesting people to hang out with at quieter moments.
Saturday was also an amazing day for sexy hypnosis, where I got to play with another lifelong hypnofetishist. I might write about it at a later date. Even more importantly: I got to dine with SMdiClasse and plastika, and *finally* saw Mad Max: Fury Road on the big screen in english.
On Sunday, sidonia brought me on a hike up mount Rigi. Besides the glorious views of the hills and lakes and oh-so-photogenic cows, as well as the lovely historic mountain railroad, we were excited to do a little mountaintop hypnosis. Sidonia told me she wanted to trip: to use hypnosis to get into a psychedelic mental state similar to what she has experienced with mushrooms and LSD, where sounds and sights become enormously intense, blending together in strange ways and causing wild emotions and fancies.
I hypnotized her on a bench overlooking the lake, not far from a mountainside meditation center, which seemed appropriate. As I sat beside her and described the drug flowing through her system, and affecting each of her senses in turn, I could feel mself perceiving the world differently too. The bits of tree fluff floating in the air through sunbeams seemed to shine, and it was as though I could see the leaves of the trees as one morphing mass, inseparable from the spaces between them. But since I've never done hallucinogens I don't know how similar my experience was - I was going by her long and vivid description of what it's like for her.
Beginner's mistake: talking her through the nausea stage of shrooms kicking in. Not necessary!
It was wonderful to watch her dreamily gazing around, or cocking her head to one side to listen better - never once looking at me, because as she told me on shrooms human flesh is ugly to her. I brought her back and gave her a post-hypnotic trigger to return to that state, even outside of trance, and we continued our ramble down the mountain.
Sidonia also tripped with me in a peaceful dark forest area partway down (the top of Riga is extremely busy with tourists, since the train goes right up there and there's a huge restaurant etc - so different at the summit than our northern Italian mountains, let alone Canada), and then that evening sitting outdoors at a restaurant on the Reuss river in Lucerne. Again, I couldn't experience what she was experiencing, but I was fascinated to hear about it.
In one long weekend I did more hypnosis than I have in months. This should hold me for a while - though I'm having plenty of wistful thoughts about the people I spent time with. Sure wish it wasn't 7 hours away.
Two things I want to improve on: a couple of times, with new people with whom I didn't feel that confident, and in the busy party environment, I fell back on rote inductions and didn't truly commit to the session. In the future I want to be fully present and use all my ingenuity to explore a hypnotic experience with someone, even as we're still learning our way around each other.
The other thing is that most of my play was ideas my partners came up with. This is awesome to me, and completely in my comfort zone. I completely get off on being a "service dom" (as I heard Wiseguy describe himself on his episode of the Sex Nerd Sandra podcast), giving my partners pleasure, and making their fantasies come true. I'm delighted by the creative requests my partners come up with, and the challenge in realizing them, requests like, "I'd like to experience being tied up in a sitting position and lifted up into the sky above Röntgenwiese by hundreds of balloons." The depiction of that she sent me is now one of my most prized (digital) possessions:
At the same time, I should be more forward about proposing things I want. I always have plenty of ideas about what I'd like to do to someone (or with someone, if they prefer a non-D/s vibe) in trance, but I'm shy about it. It only come up when they say, "what do you want to do?" Obviously I feel the most on solid ground consent-wise if someone brings their fantasy to me, but I have the skills to ask for things in a light and open-ended way, and I should use them.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
(Why I'm) Getting Into Trance
Learning about trance is changing my life. My mind is not what I thought it was. The substance of my daily experience is not what I thought it was. And the more I learn about it, the better I can make friends with my mind and get it to do great things with me.
This is all a surprise by the way. I was just following the trail of what turns me on.
But I had to learn how hypnosis works, and that's where the seed of these thoughts came. Hypnosis works by directing attention. Everyone can be fooled by magic tricks, and everyone can be hypnotized, because no matter how smart you are, you have a limited amount of attention. This is something that hit me like a thunderbolt when I was sitting in a college class in my 20s and was shown this video.
(Perhaps you've seen that video before and are feeling clever right now. Like you're a smarter person now, who can't fall for that kind of thing. In that case watch this video.)
It's good for analytically minded people like me to realize our consciousness is limited! And that developing as a person isn't necessarily being alert to more and more things. There's always something you're not paying attention to. This is liberating!
Here's another example of letting someone else direct my attention for fun and profit. I have a workout video I like. Here's what the voiceover says, in full, over the part of the video where you are swinging your arms over one another other:
Absolutely none of this is necessary. This is a stupidly easy move. And is there really a risk I'm going to forget to switch them? (Why not also remind me not to crash them together in mid air?) But I actually do double check my movements, every time - and all those little directions of attention add up to the time flying by. I'm going into trance, a little bit, and it's a good thing!
I've always had a lot of resistance to that, which might surprise you. When people talked about their trance-like states while running or exercising, talked about enjoying "turning off their brain", I would feel a little panicky. It sounded like drowning. If my value comes from my busy, probing brain, quick to find logical flaws and build shiny structures of thought, as I was told basicall my whole schooling, who am I if I were to wipe that out, even for a few minutes?
But are we really ourselves when we are at our most aware? I don't think so anymore. I think what we mistake for consciousness is really just hypervigilance. Rapidly scanning our attention around in an anxiety that we'll miss something - the same state of mind as when we pause with our suitcases before going out the door on a trip.
Ironically, in the state of highest consciousness we are not really the most responsive to our environment. If you ask a star athlete or an improv comedian, activities where rapid response is critical, most likely they will not say they were particularly aware when they were performing. Time went by quickly. They were less troubled by nagging thoughts.
By contrast, I had a Philosophy major friend in college who was the most principled, cerebral, top-down guy I ever met. I once saw him step on a furniture tack, and I could actually watch him deciding whether it was consistent with his beliefs to yell out. It took a full three seconds.
Awareness is often nothing more than layers of checking and cross checking. And those layers slow us down, and separate us from the world.
Layers of protection are appropriate when there's enemies. These could include unethical people, or advertisers, or any other entity seeking to manipulate us to an agenda. You need defences. And sometimes the defences are against yourself, and stupid or embarassing shit that you fear might come out if you didn't filter it. But I've been a little too proud of my defences in the past, and not valuing enough other people's ability to be undefended, and to abandon themselves to an experience or to self expression.
Thinking harder doesn't get you to be more creative, funnier, sexier, a better hypnotist, or better at solving tough problems. For all of these, I now think you are best served by letting go, getting out of your own way, and letting deeper parts of your mind work in an automatic fashion.
That person you are at your most introspective and self-conscious is not the real you.
Since learning about trance, exercise is better for me, and so is art and music: I know now that I don't have to have a conscious, verbal response to everything. I can just let it carry me along. In fact "trance music" sounds better, as does everything rhythmic.
Even more simply and more frequently, I want to enjoy those moments of just watching dust motes in a sunbeam, or patterns made by overlapping tree leaves in a canopy above me. Spacing out. Losing myself in beauty and repetition.
Most people are used to their consciousness not giving up without a fight, and only getting a solid vacation from it with alcohol or pot or sex. In the kink community people also get it from being suspended in rope, or caned vigorously. Being submissive, or, to some extent, dominating. And so on.
But there's more possibilities for trancing out. Meditation and hypnosis for sure. (and I want to get hypnotized a lot more) But also noticing those moments of everyday trance and abandoning yourself to them more fully, letting them expand out lusciously.
Don't listen to people who say the only way to grow is to become more awake, more thoughtful, more careful, more aware. Run the other way! Into trance!
This is all a surprise by the way. I was just following the trail of what turns me on.
But I had to learn how hypnosis works, and that's where the seed of these thoughts came. Hypnosis works by directing attention. Everyone can be fooled by magic tricks, and everyone can be hypnotized, because no matter how smart you are, you have a limited amount of attention. This is something that hit me like a thunderbolt when I was sitting in a college class in my 20s and was shown this video.
(Perhaps you've seen that video before and are feeling clever right now. Like you're a smarter person now, who can't fall for that kind of thing. In that case watch this video.)
It's good for analytically minded people like me to realize our consciousness is limited! And that developing as a person isn't necessarily being alert to more and more things. There's always something you're not paying attention to. This is liberating!
Here's another example of letting someone else direct my attention for fun and profit. I have a workout video I like. Here's what the voiceover says, in full, over the part of the video where you are swinging your arms over one another other:
We're going to switch to lateral steps plus a swing on those arms. And start up.
Swinging those arms back and forth in front of your chest, just a small step left to right, make sure that every single time you swing those arms across in front you have a different arm on top each time. So don't always bring your left arm on top, or don't always bring your right arm on top, even though your body's going to want to have a tendency to do that, make sure you always alternate. Let's go ahead and get ready for our last warmup exercise, slow butt-kickers...
Absolutely none of this is necessary. This is a stupidly easy move. And is there really a risk I'm going to forget to switch them? (Why not also remind me not to crash them together in mid air?) But I actually do double check my movements, every time - and all those little directions of attention add up to the time flying by. I'm going into trance, a little bit, and it's a good thing!
I've always had a lot of resistance to that, which might surprise you. When people talked about their trance-like states while running or exercising, talked about enjoying "turning off their brain", I would feel a little panicky. It sounded like drowning. If my value comes from my busy, probing brain, quick to find logical flaws and build shiny structures of thought, as I was told basicall my whole schooling, who am I if I were to wipe that out, even for a few minutes?
But are we really ourselves when we are at our most aware? I don't think so anymore. I think what we mistake for consciousness is really just hypervigilance. Rapidly scanning our attention around in an anxiety that we'll miss something - the same state of mind as when we pause with our suitcases before going out the door on a trip.
Ironically, in the state of highest consciousness we are not really the most responsive to our environment. If you ask a star athlete or an improv comedian, activities where rapid response is critical, most likely they will not say they were particularly aware when they were performing. Time went by quickly. They were less troubled by nagging thoughts.
By contrast, I had a Philosophy major friend in college who was the most principled, cerebral, top-down guy I ever met. I once saw him step on a furniture tack, and I could actually watch him deciding whether it was consistent with his beliefs to yell out. It took a full three seconds.
Awareness is often nothing more than layers of checking and cross checking. And those layers slow us down, and separate us from the world.
Layers of protection are appropriate when there's enemies. These could include unethical people, or advertisers, or any other entity seeking to manipulate us to an agenda. You need defences. And sometimes the defences are against yourself, and stupid or embarassing shit that you fear might come out if you didn't filter it. But I've been a little too proud of my defences in the past, and not valuing enough other people's ability to be undefended, and to abandon themselves to an experience or to self expression.
Thinking harder doesn't get you to be more creative, funnier, sexier, a better hypnotist, or better at solving tough problems. For all of these, I now think you are best served by letting go, getting out of your own way, and letting deeper parts of your mind work in an automatic fashion.
That person you are at your most introspective and self-conscious is not the real you.
Since learning about trance, exercise is better for me, and so is art and music: I know now that I don't have to have a conscious, verbal response to everything. I can just let it carry me along. In fact "trance music" sounds better, as does everything rhythmic.
Even more simply and more frequently, I want to enjoy those moments of just watching dust motes in a sunbeam, or patterns made by overlapping tree leaves in a canopy above me. Spacing out. Losing myself in beauty and repetition.
Most people are used to their consciousness not giving up without a fight, and only getting a solid vacation from it with alcohol or pot or sex. In the kink community people also get it from being suspended in rope, or caned vigorously. Being submissive, or, to some extent, dominating. And so on.
But there's more possibilities for trancing out. Meditation and hypnosis for sure. (and I want to get hypnotized a lot more) But also noticing those moments of everyday trance and abandoning yourself to them more fully, letting them expand out lusciously.
Don't listen to people who say the only way to grow is to become more awake, more thoughtful, more careful, more aware. Run the other way! Into trance!
Sunday, April 26, 2015
The Porn I Wrote But Will Never Share
Here's an idea for a story:
Of course, now I know it's all real. So much so that at least three people who might read this could have thought it was about them, for at least part of it. And would have a right to be mad!
So I'll never publish that story (or finish it), or most of the twenty other mc-themed stories that I finished around that time. It really changes the situation that I now know there is such a thing as a hypnotic predator in real life. They're not common, but common enough that they have harmed friends of mine in the Boston scene. It makes it harder to enjoy such stories, and much, much harder for me to write them.
Here's one that I actually finished: a woman attends a stage hypnosis show and is so alarmed by the hypnotic obedience she sees in her work friend that she starts a blog to give shrill warnings against hypnotists, and imagines they're lurking everywhere, wanting to snatch her up and turn her into a hypnotic slave. She perceives that someone rigged the air conditioner in the changing room to pump mind-melting arousal gas into the air, and is forced to masturbate to clear her thoughts enough to escape. She makes out with a guy on the subway because she convinces herself that he's enraptured her with his eyes alone. Finally she can't take it any more and confesses to her blog that she has submitted her body and mind to the next hypnotist she meets (who was of course the one hypnotizing her into all this). Not going to publish that.
In fact almost all the stories I wrote were in the realm of "dub-con" (dubious consent). I even wrote a story called "DubCon", about a convention of mind controllers where they brought their brainwashed slaves from all over the country for reconditioning and play. (it was from the perspective of a desk clerk trying to figure out what the hell is going on with all the gorgeous spacy women walking around and accidentally giving each other hypnotic triggers! Shades of the NEEHU hotel...)
Probably 99% of the stories on mcstories.com involve at least dubious consent, often in the form of predatory hypnosis. Lots of them on tumblr too. And in my brain. How do I reconcile this? With my desire to present hypnosis as no more creepy or dangerous than any other type of intense play kinksters do? And to present myself as an ethical person, who in real life is not interested in pushing on partners' boundaries? This isn't exactly a unique dilemma, but one I'm still wrestling with.
Here's another reason I'm not going to share some of the stories I wrote: they're racist! When I'm writing from what genuinely turns me on, and trying to let the story follow its own course, to my surprise, sometimes they come out that way. Like in the first draft of one story, a woman's extreme licentiousness is represented by her grinding on a bunch of guys in a black dance club. In another first draft, I introduce magical artifact by means of a magical Asian shopkeeper. Which I guess I have movies from my childhood to thank, from Gremlins to Hellraiser to Aladdin. I don't think my brain has more of this crap in it than the average person of my combination of privileged identities, but it's still not cool to see it on the page.
And it's not trivial to de-racist a story. Often fixing it would require major surgery, i.e. burning calories to rethink the parts that are not the sexy parts. It doesn't suffice to change it to a magical white shopkeeper - it needs something. Finding a clever solution would no doubt make my story better, as in Joss Whedon's invention of magical (white) shopkeeper Ethan Rayne, but it would also make my draft take longer to finish, and not make it any sexier (except of course in reducing the anti-sexy racism) And so there those drafts stay.
All that said, I don't think there's anything wrong with the way I wrote those stories. I think it's harmful to edit while you're writing, to fight your instincts as you get words down. Sitting on an encrypted disk image, those story drafts are not hurting anyone. My responsibility begins when I plan to share them. Even on Fetlife, where many private joys and struggles are shared, I still believe it's so important to have a "backstage" for one's private thoughts and feelings, where everything is ok to say to yourself, and then to pick and choose what you express.
A last, selfish reason not to share stories: my fantasies are embarassing. In my published 50 Shades parody, there's a scene with hundreds of hot women chasing our hero, Beatles-style. A more extreme version of that is in a story I wrote in the form of a parody TED talk, where the mind-controller speaker had the women in the audience literally lining up to blow him. Obviously at the time I was feeling a teensy bit lacking in sexual attention! And that wasn't something I wanted people to know.
Basically, publishing any kind of writing makes me vulnerable: it exposes my limitations and crappy preconceptions, and my weird fixations and impoverishments. Why take that risk? Especially since I never considered I'd have friends who might be interested to read them?
Well, it's fun. Some of the best, hardest working fun I've ever had.
It unleashed my creativity. For someone like me, it was so liberating to write things that my parents or my high school english teacher will never read and give me approval for. I wrote those twenty stories in 8 months, about 76,000 words worth. That's what URNMyPower might call "a solid afternoon's output," but it was a big deal for me! As someone who had literally never finished a piece of writing or artwork that wasn't an assigment. Several of them I rewrote twice, three times or more.
Most importantly, it brought my fantasy life into focus. It taught me about myself so that when someone stands in front of me and says, "I want to do whatever you want" - which is a thing that has happened and will happen - I'll have a better idea what to say. I can't put it better than this writing by FL user Heather against kinksters buying into the idea of "one twue way":
I want to cheerlead you to dive into your sexual fantasies and write them down, no matter how dark or embarassing or bizarre or seemingly trivial. Keep them secret, for example (on a mac) using an encrypted disk image or a Google Doc on a special account, and don't publish stuff that you know is likely to hurt people.
And my obvious other purpose here is to burn off story ideas that I was fond of, but won't be using. Maybe someone else could write the "hypno fan" story I outlined at the beginning, but it's not for me.
(Originally this post, which I started many weeks ago, was going to end with something like, "And one day I'll fuck up in my writing, and I hope people will be patient with me and give me the benefit of the doubt." Since then, a friend pointed out that my second ever shared story contains a crappy ethnic stereotype, that made her feel gross. I'm sorry, and I'll do better next time. Hold me to that. Every writer I admire, literally every one, has written something that was fucked up in some way, big or small. Just try to watch the Buffy thanksgiving episode featuring a native american ghost and not cringe. The serious thing is making the same mistake over and over. I pledge to keep creating, and to make only new and different mistakes!)
There's a very young woman who has a fetish for hypnosis. She really lives and breathes it. There's a busy online community of hypnosis enthusiasts, and although she can be shy and awkward in her daily life, especially with people she's into, she is fierce and outspoken online, with a large network of friends and plenty of opinions on the record. The thing she reserves particular contempt for are the various types of lame hypnotists she meets all the time (she only trances with a few select people), especially the would-be predators. She and her inner circle of other subjects have numerous rules for staying safe, and she can't help but feel a little superior to the careless and naive people who fall under some hypnotists' spell. Then one day she sees hints that a close friend has been compromised. Then another. They're going down like dominoes. They've voluntarily lowered their defences, and are becoming the sexual playthings of...something. From the very invisibility of the threat, she gradually infers that there is a predator in the environment, but one who is much slicker and more cunning than any unethical hypnotist she's ever come across. And then she starts to see little signs that she might be compromised. Will she be able to track down the evil hypnotist before she loses her will? Is she fighting a part of herself that wants to lose her will?I wrote notes for that story on Jan. 3, 2013. When I wrote them, I did not know for sure there was such a thing as a female hypnosis fetishist. I had never seen hypnosis in person, and wasn't sure it was real. The idea of a thriving online community of hypnotists and subjects was pure alternate-reality invention on my part.
Of course, now I know it's all real. So much so that at least three people who might read this could have thought it was about them, for at least part of it. And would have a right to be mad!
So I'll never publish that story (or finish it), or most of the twenty other mc-themed stories that I finished around that time. It really changes the situation that I now know there is such a thing as a hypnotic predator in real life. They're not common, but common enough that they have harmed friends of mine in the Boston scene. It makes it harder to enjoy such stories, and much, much harder for me to write them.
Here's one that I actually finished: a woman attends a stage hypnosis show and is so alarmed by the hypnotic obedience she sees in her work friend that she starts a blog to give shrill warnings against hypnotists, and imagines they're lurking everywhere, wanting to snatch her up and turn her into a hypnotic slave. She perceives that someone rigged the air conditioner in the changing room to pump mind-melting arousal gas into the air, and is forced to masturbate to clear her thoughts enough to escape. She makes out with a guy on the subway because she convinces herself that he's enraptured her with his eyes alone. Finally she can't take it any more and confesses to her blog that she has submitted her body and mind to the next hypnotist she meets (who was of course the one hypnotizing her into all this). Not going to publish that.
In fact almost all the stories I wrote were in the realm of "dub-con" (dubious consent). I even wrote a story called "DubCon", about a convention of mind controllers where they brought their brainwashed slaves from all over the country for reconditioning and play. (it was from the perspective of a desk clerk trying to figure out what the hell is going on with all the gorgeous spacy women walking around and accidentally giving each other hypnotic triggers! Shades of the NEEHU hotel...)
Probably 99% of the stories on mcstories.com involve at least dubious consent, often in the form of predatory hypnosis. Lots of them on tumblr too. And in my brain. How do I reconcile this? With my desire to present hypnosis as no more creepy or dangerous than any other type of intense play kinksters do? And to present myself as an ethical person, who in real life is not interested in pushing on partners' boundaries? This isn't exactly a unique dilemma, but one I'm still wrestling with.
Here's another reason I'm not going to share some of the stories I wrote: they're racist! When I'm writing from what genuinely turns me on, and trying to let the story follow its own course, to my surprise, sometimes they come out that way. Like in the first draft of one story, a woman's extreme licentiousness is represented by her grinding on a bunch of guys in a black dance club. In another first draft, I introduce magical artifact by means of a magical Asian shopkeeper. Which I guess I have movies from my childhood to thank, from Gremlins to Hellraiser to Aladdin. I don't think my brain has more of this crap in it than the average person of my combination of privileged identities, but it's still not cool to see it on the page.
And it's not trivial to de-racist a story. Often fixing it would require major surgery, i.e. burning calories to rethink the parts that are not the sexy parts. It doesn't suffice to change it to a magical white shopkeeper - it needs something. Finding a clever solution would no doubt make my story better, as in Joss Whedon's invention of magical (white) shopkeeper Ethan Rayne, but it would also make my draft take longer to finish, and not make it any sexier (except of course in reducing the anti-sexy racism) And so there those drafts stay.
All that said, I don't think there's anything wrong with the way I wrote those stories. I think it's harmful to edit while you're writing, to fight your instincts as you get words down. Sitting on an encrypted disk image, those story drafts are not hurting anyone. My responsibility begins when I plan to share them. Even on Fetlife, where many private joys and struggles are shared, I still believe it's so important to have a "backstage" for one's private thoughts and feelings, where everything is ok to say to yourself, and then to pick and choose what you express.
A last, selfish reason not to share stories: my fantasies are embarassing. In my published 50 Shades parody, there's a scene with hundreds of hot women chasing our hero, Beatles-style. A more extreme version of that is in a story I wrote in the form of a parody TED talk, where the mind-controller speaker had the women in the audience literally lining up to blow him. Obviously at the time I was feeling a teensy bit lacking in sexual attention! And that wasn't something I wanted people to know.
Basically, publishing any kind of writing makes me vulnerable: it exposes my limitations and crappy preconceptions, and my weird fixations and impoverishments. Why take that risk? Especially since I never considered I'd have friends who might be interested to read them?
Well, it's fun. Some of the best, hardest working fun I've ever had.
It unleashed my creativity. For someone like me, it was so liberating to write things that my parents or my high school english teacher will never read and give me approval for. I wrote those twenty stories in 8 months, about 76,000 words worth. That's what URNMyPower might call "a solid afternoon's output," but it was a big deal for me! As someone who had literally never finished a piece of writing or artwork that wasn't an assigment. Several of them I rewrote twice, three times or more.
Most importantly, it brought my fantasy life into focus. It taught me about myself so that when someone stands in front of me and says, "I want to do whatever you want" - which is a thing that has happened and will happen - I'll have a better idea what to say. I can't put it better than this writing by FL user Heather against kinksters buying into the idea of "one twue way":
Sit quietly with yourself and think about what makes you harden, what makes you soften, what makes you wet and what fuels your lust....Learn where you draw your power from and tap into that before each encounter.I'll probably tidy up a few more stories from that set, and I'm going to write more soon, once my fantasy life settles down in its new form after the glorious Etch-a-sketch shakeup it got from contact with the real-life scene. And they'll come out different. Maybe I'll even write and share evil hypnotist stories, but they will be different evil hypnotist stories, that are evil in a fun way that shows an awareness of where the readers are coming from and how to fall on the side of hotness rather than upsetting, like DJ Pynchon's current tumblr rampage of awesome.
I want to cheerlead you to dive into your sexual fantasies and write them down, no matter how dark or embarassing or bizarre or seemingly trivial. Keep them secret, for example (on a mac) using an encrypted disk image or a Google Doc on a special account, and don't publish stuff that you know is likely to hurt people.
And my obvious other purpose here is to burn off story ideas that I was fond of, but won't be using. Maybe someone else could write the "hypno fan" story I outlined at the beginning, but it's not for me.
(Originally this post, which I started many weeks ago, was going to end with something like, "And one day I'll fuck up in my writing, and I hope people will be patient with me and give me the benefit of the doubt." Since then, a friend pointed out that my second ever shared story contains a crappy ethnic stereotype, that made her feel gross. I'm sorry, and I'll do better next time. Hold me to that. Every writer I admire, literally every one, has written something that was fucked up in some way, big or small. Just try to watch the Buffy thanksgiving episode featuring a native american ghost and not cringe. The serious thing is making the same mistake over and over. I pledge to keep creating, and to make only new and different mistakes!)
Sunday, April 5, 2015
An MC Short Story: Oh My Brainwashed Darling
I wrote the first draft of this story in March, 2013, more than 2 years ago. Now the thing is caption stories on tumblr, which pack all the hotness into 1/5 of the wordcount, but at the time I was still very much into narratives, so I hope it amuses between the hot parts. On mcstories.com, this would be tagged mc, mf, and light md (male dominance). Uncle Filthy lyrics by a contributor who wishes to remain anonymous.If there is one thing I’ve learned about life, it’s that it will never stop surprising you.
The best surprise I ever had was Carrie. Around the time I turned 50, my friends stopped “joshing” me about being a bachelor. I had practically come to accept it too. I didn’t how it happened exactly: I have a good job managing a small bank, and unlike most of my peers I’ve managed to avoid “middle-aged spread” through jogging, situps, and a chin-up bar in the kitchen doorway. I have a sweet little house of my own, and I try to stay involved in the community, between the bank, my activities with the Braintree Business Association, and Toastmasters. But somehow the right person just never came along.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Ten Highlights and Ten Quotations from My NEEHU 6
This will be my only con of any kind this year: 6000 km from northern Italy to attend The New England Erotic Unconference 6 in Hartford, Connecticut, and 6000 km back. (Not to mention a little 2000 km round trip detour to the London Hypnosis Workshop first, for just 48 hours, all of them spent in the workshop, in the airport, or on various trains. Could anyone less curiously persuasive than Lee Allure get me to do something that nutty?)
This year, my second NEEHU, I learned from the lessons of last year and planned so I could be there for every minute of it. From the hotel room party on Thursday, to helping carry food into the dungeon on Friday morning, to the play party on Saturday with everyone in their finery, to the post-con swim and hot tubbing on Sunday night, to the sleepy Monday morning breakfast. Epic. I highly recommend this. Every minute, I was soaking up being with these special friends, and the new friends I was making: people who don't just get my big passion, erotic hypnosis and mind control fantasy, but live it - in many cases every day.
In all I didn't do a lot of hypnotizing, in fact less than I did in the three days prior I spent in Boston reconnecting with friends. I put it down to being more thrashed by the travel than I expected, and also to how development of my skills, confidence, and relationships has been on pause, or nearly so, during my year away in Italy. I felt the sacrifice of that in my gut. But at the same time, it has led to unique experiences like going to kink parties in Milan and being hypnotized in Italian, (not to mention mountains, gelatos, cappuccinos, and learning my first foreign language). At least NEEHU was a chance to take a big step forward. Right now I'm bubbling with ideas and technique from the classes and informal chats, and more importantly the sheer inspiration of seeing all the hundreds of pairups of subject and hypnotist - 145 people in all! - with uncountably many instant inductions and hypnotic orgasms.
The highlights could just be a massive list of all the people I loved spending time with - especially the ones from New York City, Boston, Pittsburgh, and New Hampshire, you know who you are. It was like a summer camp reunion. (or a Camp Mindfuck reunion!) Instead, here are the first ten highlights that come to mind - and that should be safe to talk about:
* Convincing a number of people to rate hypnotic animated gifs on the prototype software I wrote, especially lizzy-doll and GleefulAbandon, who both rated an entire set of 100, and with whom - and I swear this was not my evil scheme! - I could see the unmistakable eyelid fluttering and body readjustment of heading into trance while viewing certain gifs. Wow was that sexy! It got so I could easily guess which ones they were going to give a "5", the highest rating for how "hypnotic and compelling" they found it. Here's lizzidoll's list (I got permission). Not only did they both have neat insights into what makes a gif hypnotic, lizzy-doll made a concrete suggestion that made my software better!
* ZanyM's striking and hot breathplay class, in which she Darth-Vader-Force-choked the comely Vox from across the classroom. Even more fun was the sequel on a hotel elevator ride, where she and her padwan had a force-choking battle. (only hypnokinksters in the elevator, I should mention)
* Buying my favourite brand of hypnosis porn directly off the hard drive of the man who makes it, Lex of entrancement.co.uk. Not to mention getting to hang out with him and confirming he's just as funny and cool as he seems in his videos. There's a farm-to-table porn experience! Especially cool to talk to him not just as a fan but as a colleague - for example getting valuable tips on hypnosis with people with a lower level of English.
* Seeing firsthand at least three powerful examples of hypnosis changing people's lives for the better, outside of the bedroom. Migraines, confidence, self-discovery, just for starters. Like this account by Amitus (fetlife account required) - I was one of the people from DMDW who didn't recognize him. I'm not interested in doing hypnosis as therapy myself, but it gives me warm fuzzy feelings to see how people's involvement in hypnokink has genuinely helped them.
* Being invited on my first ever panel, the Hypno Bloggers Roundtable, and feeling closer to the people behind the blogs I love and have learned from so much: Daja, DJPynchon, AmHypnotic, SpiralTurquoise, and Sleepingirl.
* Hypnosis kitsch everywhere, from the crystals and glowy spheres at the merch table, to the clever t-shirts, to at least a couple of custom hypnosis license plates.
* North American pop culture nerding out all over, from the essentials like Harry Potter and Star Wars to beloved personal classics like Saga and The Tick. It was really great to be around people who were affected by the death of Terry Pratchett. At one point in the car some dork was like, now we should decide, which house in Harry Potter does each House in Game of Thrones map to? ...Actually that was me.
* Lee triggering 3 people to orgasm simultaneously in a Chinese restaurant. Not just once.
* A bunch of cases of laughing harder than I have in weeks. Like whole body, deep belly laughs. I can't even recall why (not hypnotically-induced!), I can just remember how it felt.
* AmHypnotic saying to me in the Dunkin' Donuts, "We are the ones on the cutting edge of hypnosis. Not the therapists, not the stage hypnotists. Because we value novelty, we are the ones who are continuously pushing it forward. They'll never catch up with us."
Things that I heard at the con, presented with no context:
I see I ended my NEEHU post with this last year, but it's playing in my head, and it's so appropriate:
This year, my second NEEHU, I learned from the lessons of last year and planned so I could be there for every minute of it. From the hotel room party on Thursday, to helping carry food into the dungeon on Friday morning, to the play party on Saturday with everyone in their finery, to the post-con swim and hot tubbing on Sunday night, to the sleepy Monday morning breakfast. Epic. I highly recommend this. Every minute, I was soaking up being with these special friends, and the new friends I was making: people who don't just get my big passion, erotic hypnosis and mind control fantasy, but live it - in many cases every day.
In all I didn't do a lot of hypnotizing, in fact less than I did in the three days prior I spent in Boston reconnecting with friends. I put it down to being more thrashed by the travel than I expected, and also to how development of my skills, confidence, and relationships has been on pause, or nearly so, during my year away in Italy. I felt the sacrifice of that in my gut. But at the same time, it has led to unique experiences like going to kink parties in Milan and being hypnotized in Italian, (not to mention mountains, gelatos, cappuccinos, and learning my first foreign language). At least NEEHU was a chance to take a big step forward. Right now I'm bubbling with ideas and technique from the classes and informal chats, and more importantly the sheer inspiration of seeing all the hundreds of pairups of subject and hypnotist - 145 people in all! - with uncountably many instant inductions and hypnotic orgasms.
The highlights could just be a massive list of all the people I loved spending time with - especially the ones from New York City, Boston, Pittsburgh, and New Hampshire, you know who you are. It was like a summer camp reunion. (or a Camp Mindfuck reunion!) Instead, here are the first ten highlights that come to mind - and that should be safe to talk about:
* Convincing a number of people to rate hypnotic animated gifs on the prototype software I wrote, especially lizzy-doll and GleefulAbandon, who both rated an entire set of 100, and with whom - and I swear this was not my evil scheme! - I could see the unmistakable eyelid fluttering and body readjustment of heading into trance while viewing certain gifs. Wow was that sexy! It got so I could easily guess which ones they were going to give a "5", the highest rating for how "hypnotic and compelling" they found it. Here's lizzidoll's list (I got permission). Not only did they both have neat insights into what makes a gif hypnotic, lizzy-doll made a concrete suggestion that made my software better!
* ZanyM's striking and hot breathplay class, in which she Darth-Vader-Force-choked the comely Vox from across the classroom. Even more fun was the sequel on a hotel elevator ride, where she and her padwan had a force-choking battle. (only hypnokinksters in the elevator, I should mention)
* Buying my favourite brand of hypnosis porn directly off the hard drive of the man who makes it, Lex of entrancement.co.uk. Not to mention getting to hang out with him and confirming he's just as funny and cool as he seems in his videos. There's a farm-to-table porn experience! Especially cool to talk to him not just as a fan but as a colleague - for example getting valuable tips on hypnosis with people with a lower level of English.
* Seeing firsthand at least three powerful examples of hypnosis changing people's lives for the better, outside of the bedroom. Migraines, confidence, self-discovery, just for starters. Like this account by Amitus (fetlife account required) - I was one of the people from DMDW who didn't recognize him. I'm not interested in doing hypnosis as therapy myself, but it gives me warm fuzzy feelings to see how people's involvement in hypnokink has genuinely helped them.
* Being invited on my first ever panel, the Hypno Bloggers Roundtable, and feeling closer to the people behind the blogs I love and have learned from so much: Daja, DJPynchon, AmHypnotic, SpiralTurquoise, and Sleepingirl.
* Hypnosis kitsch everywhere, from the crystals and glowy spheres at the merch table, to the clever t-shirts, to at least a couple of custom hypnosis license plates.
* North American pop culture nerding out all over, from the essentials like Harry Potter and Star Wars to beloved personal classics like Saga and The Tick. It was really great to be around people who were affected by the death of Terry Pratchett. At one point in the car some dork was like, now we should decide, which house in Harry Potter does each House in Game of Thrones map to? ...Actually that was me.
* Lee triggering 3 people to orgasm simultaneously in a Chinese restaurant. Not just once.
* A bunch of cases of laughing harder than I have in weeks. Like whole body, deep belly laughs. I can't even recall why (not hypnotically-induced!), I can just remember how it felt.
* AmHypnotic saying to me in the Dunkin' Donuts, "We are the ones on the cutting edge of hypnosis. Not the therapists, not the stage hypnotists. Because we value novelty, we are the ones who are continuously pushing it forward. They'll never catch up with us."
Things that I heard at the con, presented with no context:
- "So that's eyeball bondage. We have 15 minutes. Any questions?"
- "Instead of 'harem', I think she prefers 'entourage'."
- "Oh no, I'm a switch now!"
- "What can I give you that you won't take?"
- [Quoting a weird audience question:] "Can you hypnotize someone to make them your friend?"
- "Forest_sprite is the floppiest of floppy puppies."
- "I want to know what was going on in the hotel room with the blood curdling screams...and why they needed so many towels."
- "I just changed your circle to a Venn diagram."
- "I saw inside out chickens being sucked out of the 5th dimension."
- "I feel like you're not yet as evil as you want to be."
I see I ended my NEEHU post with this last year, but it's playing in my head, and it's so appropriate:
Monday, March 2, 2015
I Got Hypnotized in Italian
It happened during Lee Allure's Introduzione All'Ipnosi Erotica workshop this Saturday in Milan. A woman in my practice group was holding both my hands and then did an expert move - not the one Lee had taught us - that sent me tumbling into trance. ("who are these people?" I thought. "I need to get to know them!")
As I drifted, I realized at some point that the words reaching me in outer space were in Italian. Had she been talking Italian the whole time? But the rhythm of hypnosis was so familar, and each word revealed its meaning to me one by one, like a bubble popping. That was a cool feeling! I felt proud of my mind for retaining and using my Italian, even in a state of trance.
Still, I wonder: is this really the same as simply receiving language? Could this conscious process of translation interfere with the depth or the suggestions? What happens when there's a word I don't know? I would love to explore this as a subject more.
I also had my chance to do more hypnotizing of people who aren't fluent in English. Although I know many forms of non-verbal induction, I never realized how critical the pre-talk is, and the feedback afterward. Not being sure how many of my words were making it through, or how well I was understanding my subject, felt like trying to do a delicate job wearing big clumsy gloves. In general, this weekend I learned how much I lean on my verbal skills to connect with people and get in sync. I'm shy, except I normally have a lot of confidence in my words, my cultural references, etc. Practicing communicating powerfully without the vocabulary, and shared culture, should help me a lot as a hypnotist - and a communicator in general.
In several cases the trances were with first-time subjects, and that's where I really felt the challenge. In one case I was practicing a butterfly induction (another first!) with a man in my practice group, to no avail. Then the fourth member of the group murmured to him for a long time, and helped him reach a light trance. ("who are these people?") I couldn't really hear, but no doubt he was talking him through beliefs that were limiting his ability to let go.
That was a big theme this week, of people expressing doubt about their ability to go into trance or manifest suggestions. Over and over I listened to Lee deal masterfully with these insecurities (including my own when we did hypnosis together!), but it still seems like a problem that needs plenty of attention and thought. I suppose the real answer is that pickup play with beginners is the "hard mode" of hypnosis, and that it works better by developing subject skills, and customized approaches, over a recurring hypnotist/subject relationship. I've certainly seen rapid growth in confidence and responsiveness in people I've worked with over time, and I heard Lee tell someone that even one night's sleep does wonders, since the brain practices in REM.
My hypnosis got a tiny bit better with further trances, and I even heard myself switching to Italian here and there! "Più profondo, più profondo..." "Adesso, svegliati." There's so much to learn about cross-language hypnosis, but luckily I'm finding that I enjoy the hell out of practicing and want to do more - which is what you need for learning anything.
In any case, Lee's event was fantastic, with at least 30 Italian kinksters coming away with a grounding in erotic hypnosis and how awesome it can be. Sleipnir8 and Eve-01 did such a great job of organizing it on the Milano side, and it was a pleasure to spend time at the warm and welcoming household of SMdiClasse and plastika. I'm so grateful to everyone who helped make it happen! I really believe this could be the start of something big.
I went to play parties in Boston, but this weekend was also my first true public BDSM party - which I never pictured being both in Italian, and in a nightclub decorated to look like Captain Nemo's submarine. I was well outside my comfort zone, but thanks to some very sweet folks who had been to the workshop, I had a great time.
Plus I got to hang out with Lee, over several days of terrific conversation and company, that came with the privilege of introducing her to my little mountain town. And to the ways of Italia - where the bank closes at 3:30, but the Gelateria next to it is open at 11:30 pm on a Thursday. In February. Lee is great at noticing the hypnotic swirls in building decorations and shiny objects in shop windows, to the point where she got me wondering if fun hypnosis is so new to this country after all...
As I drifted, I realized at some point that the words reaching me in outer space were in Italian. Had she been talking Italian the whole time? But the rhythm of hypnosis was so familar, and each word revealed its meaning to me one by one, like a bubble popping. That was a cool feeling! I felt proud of my mind for retaining and using my Italian, even in a state of trance.
Still, I wonder: is this really the same as simply receiving language? Could this conscious process of translation interfere with the depth or the suggestions? What happens when there's a word I don't know? I would love to explore this as a subject more.
I also had my chance to do more hypnotizing of people who aren't fluent in English. Although I know many forms of non-verbal induction, I never realized how critical the pre-talk is, and the feedback afterward. Not being sure how many of my words were making it through, or how well I was understanding my subject, felt like trying to do a delicate job wearing big clumsy gloves. In general, this weekend I learned how much I lean on my verbal skills to connect with people and get in sync. I'm shy, except I normally have a lot of confidence in my words, my cultural references, etc. Practicing communicating powerfully without the vocabulary, and shared culture, should help me a lot as a hypnotist - and a communicator in general.
In several cases the trances were with first-time subjects, and that's where I really felt the challenge. In one case I was practicing a butterfly induction (another first!) with a man in my practice group, to no avail. Then the fourth member of the group murmured to him for a long time, and helped him reach a light trance. ("who are these people?") I couldn't really hear, but no doubt he was talking him through beliefs that were limiting his ability to let go.
That was a big theme this week, of people expressing doubt about their ability to go into trance or manifest suggestions. Over and over I listened to Lee deal masterfully with these insecurities (including my own when we did hypnosis together!), but it still seems like a problem that needs plenty of attention and thought. I suppose the real answer is that pickup play with beginners is the "hard mode" of hypnosis, and that it works better by developing subject skills, and customized approaches, over a recurring hypnotist/subject relationship. I've certainly seen rapid growth in confidence and responsiveness in people I've worked with over time, and I heard Lee tell someone that even one night's sleep does wonders, since the brain practices in REM.
My hypnosis got a tiny bit better with further trances, and I even heard myself switching to Italian here and there! "Più profondo, più profondo..." "Adesso, svegliati." There's so much to learn about cross-language hypnosis, but luckily I'm finding that I enjoy the hell out of practicing and want to do more - which is what you need for learning anything.
In any case, Lee's event was fantastic, with at least 30 Italian kinksters coming away with a grounding in erotic hypnosis and how awesome it can be. Sleipnir8 and Eve-01 did such a great job of organizing it on the Milano side, and it was a pleasure to spend time at the warm and welcoming household of SMdiClasse and plastika. I'm so grateful to everyone who helped make it happen! I really believe this could be the start of something big.
I went to play parties in Boston, but this weekend was also my first true public BDSM party - which I never pictured being both in Italian, and in a nightclub decorated to look like Captain Nemo's submarine. I was well outside my comfort zone, but thanks to some very sweet folks who had been to the workshop, I had a great time.
Plus I got to hang out with Lee, over several days of terrific conversation and company, that came with the privilege of introducing her to my little mountain town. And to the ways of Italia - where the bank closes at 3:30, but the Gelateria next to it is open at 11:30 pm on a Thursday. In February. Lee is great at noticing the hypnotic swirls in building decorations and shiny objects in shop windows, to the point where she got me wondering if fun hypnosis is so new to this country after all...
Monday, February 16, 2015
Thursday, February 5, 2015
Reviews of Five Hypnosis Books You Can Buy for Kindle (+ Douche-O-Meter)
(slang note for Italian friends: "douche" is short for "douchebag", so maybe: douche-o-meter = gradazioni di stronzo)
--
I had some lovely hypnosis in Milan recently, so this hasn't been an entirely dry spell, but until the overload of awesomeness that is the New England Erotic Hypnosis Unconference, and great events happening soon in Milan and London soon, for the most part my education only continues in the form of reading. I'm so grateful for my e-book reader, since all english-language e-books are just as easy to access here as in American, and so I've been catching up on what's out there.
I'm afraid there seems to be a big drop-off in interest from the three books specifically about erotic hypnosis, and Erickson's Hypnotic Realities, to everything else. I'm wary of both doorstop clinical textbooks and $1 sleazy self-published e-books, so I checked out five non-academic but properly published books. It was often rough going. There's a hell of an ego on some of these folks!
Based on this sample, a lot of hypnosis books are built around what I call the "hero psychiatrist" narrative - which I bet we have Freud to thank for. These are anecdotes told by the therapist that always follow the same structure:
This message bugs me a lot. Especially outside of a professional setting, I think wanting to be someone's therapist is a creepier and more destructive power fantasy than wanting to be their Master.
In writing reviews of these books, I was hearing myself complain a lot. Which was a drag. So I switched over to writing in a consumer-guide style, with a special section just for complaining. I give and explain the author's rating on a "douche-o-meter", where 5 is super douchey. This has actually helped me separate out the personality factor, and thereby see the value of each book. As well as helping me not to absorb those bad habits and attitudes along with the learning.
Of course the rating is just based on how the writing is coming across to me, and I know how hard it is to actually sound like yourself when you write. I'd probably like them a lot more in person. Or maybe not. But I hope this can be taken in a lighthearted manner, and not as intended to diminish their real contributions.
I can't wait until the next generation of erotic hypnosis books - by Lee Allure, D.J. Pynchon, Professor X, MrDream, ChewToy, and who knows who else - since they're just as lovely and consent-oriented as Wiseguy (the author of my favourite hypnosis book, Mind Play). In the meantime, you might do just as well reading blogs, like the ones on my sidebar (not to mention YouTube), rather than books. Something to remember is that just because something is set forth as a system, as books often do, doesn't mean it's scientific, or even remotely helpful, as in the case of the many discredited hypnotic depth scales. At the stage of knowledge we're at with hypnosis, scattershot accounts of firsthand experiences may be the more valid approach.
But I still enjoy the book perspective, and now I'm looking for recommendations for more.
--
I had some lovely hypnosis in Milan recently, so this hasn't been an entirely dry spell, but until the overload of awesomeness that is the New England Erotic Hypnosis Unconference, and great events happening soon in Milan and London soon, for the most part my education only continues in the form of reading. I'm so grateful for my e-book reader, since all english-language e-books are just as easy to access here as in American, and so I've been catching up on what's out there.
I'm afraid there seems to be a big drop-off in interest from the three books specifically about erotic hypnosis, and Erickson's Hypnotic Realities, to everything else. I'm wary of both doorstop clinical textbooks and $1 sleazy self-published e-books, so I checked out five non-academic but properly published books. It was often rough going. There's a hell of an ego on some of these folks!
Based on this sample, a lot of hypnosis books are built around what I call the "hero psychiatrist" narrative - which I bet we have Freud to thank for. These are anecdotes told by the therapist that always follow the same structure:
a) the patient comes to them with an life-ruining affliction that no one has been able to help,The implicit message these authors send - besides "I'm amazing!" - is that curing psychological problems with hypnosis is easy and fun. And, by the way, makes you feel like a cross between Sherlock Holmes and Jesus!
b) the psychologist makes a brilliant intuitive leap, and prescribes or administers a wildly unconventional treatment,
c) The patient is instantly cured forever.
This message bugs me a lot. Especially outside of a professional setting, I think wanting to be someone's therapist is a creepier and more destructive power fantasy than wanting to be their Master.
In writing reviews of these books, I was hearing myself complain a lot. Which was a drag. So I switched over to writing in a consumer-guide style, with a special section just for complaining. I give and explain the author's rating on a "douche-o-meter", where 5 is super douchey. This has actually helped me separate out the personality factor, and thereby see the value of each book. As well as helping me not to absorb those bad habits and attitudes along with the learning.
Of course the rating is just based on how the writing is coming across to me, and I know how hard it is to actually sound like yourself when you write. I'd probably like them a lot more in person. Or maybe not. But I hope this can be taken in a lighthearted manner, and not as intended to diminish their real contributions.
I can't wait until the next generation of erotic hypnosis books - by Lee Allure, D.J. Pynchon, Professor X, MrDream, ChewToy, and who knows who else - since they're just as lovely and consent-oriented as Wiseguy (the author of my favourite hypnosis book, Mind Play). In the meantime, you might do just as well reading blogs, like the ones on my sidebar (not to mention YouTube), rather than books. Something to remember is that just because something is set forth as a system, as books often do, doesn't mean it's scientific, or even remotely helpful, as in the case of the many discredited hypnotic depth scales. At the stage of knowledge we're at with hypnosis, scattershot accounts of firsthand experiences may be the more valid approach.
But I still enjoy the book perspective, and now I'm looking for recommendations for more.
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