Content warning: Sexual assault.
This has nothing to do with current events, it's just a memory that's come back to me over and over for years and I want to get it down.
For a little while there was a great sexy storytelling series in Cambridge, at the Middle East, where amateurs and professional storytellers alike would get up one after another and tell stories about their sex lives without notes. Unfortunately the organizer and MC turned out to be a shitbag and so it ended, but that's another story for someone else to tell.
I tried to make it every time because it was so entertaining. The audience and performers were a mixture of the generally open minded curious, kinksters, and "sex positive" folks (which groups obviously have a lot of overlap). One month there were two standup comedians on the bill, and what happened was very interesting to me.
The first was a woman, and you could tell she was a standup because unlike everyone else, she took the mic out of the stand, with a confident gesture. She was the kind of comic who starts her set with a flurry of self deprecating jokes about her appearance and how hard it is for her to find a boyfriend. With the freedom of a bit more time than a typical showcase, she settled into a story about going to a parking garage late at night. Through all the jokes and self deprecation, we gradually realized that this was a story about her being stalked to her car by a man who wanted to sexually assault her. In fact she only got away by luck and quick thinking. Later she was used by the police in a sting to catch this repeat offender!
She didn't get nearly as many laughs as she expected. Maybe because the premise of the jokes was what a dumb idiot she was: she shouldn't have been there alone, she should have been suspicious of him earlier, she should have reacted differently to what he did. We just wanted to know if she was ok, which wasn't really compatible with laughing.
The next standup who came up was a young asian-american dude, with an ironic t-shirt and nerd-chic eyeglasses. Like the other standup, he easily gained rapport with the crowd from the start, and got us all laughing. He then got into his extended story, about meeting an beautiful woman at a club, and then to his shock and amazement, getting to take her home. They made out, but didn't have sex. However she asked to sleep in his bed with him and he said yes.
In the morning, he learned that she was getting up early to catch a flight, and in fact his apartment was near the airport. She had probably had another motive in going home with him.
I've gone to dozens of standup showcases and theatre shows, and I can tell when a comic is winding up for the finishing, knockout punchline. And this guy had that posture and facial expression.
"I have to say that I got a little mad! My pride was offended! That she decided that I was such a nice and unthreatening guy that she could spend the night in my bed, and I wasn't going to try to RAPE her!"
Dead silence.
Crickets.
There might even have been a couple of boos.
The MC relieved the flustered comic, and said, smiling, "I knew that wouldn't necessarily go over with this crowd, but I just wanted to see what would happen!" (did I mention he turned out to be a garbage human?)
Standups develop jokes that get reliable reactions from a variety of audiences. What this told me is that most audiences were laughing their heads off, or at least chuckling steadily, at a young woman not taking enough safety precautions in a dark parking garage. At a nerdy guy offended by the assumption that he wasn't masculine enough to rape.
So what I learned is that for all our disagreements, I and my kinkster friends live in a bubble of consent culture. We say that no one should be blamed for their assault, and that sex should stop at the exact point where any of the participants wants it to stop, regardless of sharing a bed, but most of the world doesn't think like we do. Most of Boston doesn't think like we do. And I'm very, very grateful to live in that bubble, and for all the hard work of the people who've built it.
Because the alternative is just not that fucking funny.
Sunday, March 26, 2017
Tuesday, March 21, 2017
My Love Doesn’t Say
My love doesn’t say, “I feel good”. She says, “I feel deliciously coherent all of a sudden.”
My love doesn’t say, “I liked that song you sent me”. She says, “I swear it took my soul, teared it into pieces and then gave it back. I’m still in the process of verifying if it stole any of the pieces for good. Also that logo. I ovulated and died at the same time. My poor poor heart.”
My love doesn’t say, “I’m just hanging around this afternoon”. She says, “I managed to put myself into a truly lugubrious mood by inadvertently listening to Saint Saens’ dance macabre while looking at Picpus Cemetery pictures.”
My love doesn’t say, “Those picture of you were sexy”. She says, “I ovulated so many times, that I could get pregnant with a record amount of babies.”
My love doesn’t say, “I really shouldn’t be so turned on by the idea of chastity”. She says, “My pussy is the organic equivalent of a handless watch. It’s somewhat pretty, but its smartness level is not through the roof.”
My love doesn’t say, “I don’t feel bratty”. She says, “I’m feeling so dissless right now.”
My love sometimes says things are “mucopalpable.” I’m not sure what that means.
My love doesn’t say, “The way Dan Harmon writes is hot”. She says, “That guy is the elemental of toxicity.”
When I tell my love that you can’t just start using your own meanings for words, like “toxic” to mean alluring, dangerous, and addictive, she says “Vectorial semantics means they’ll figure it out, as long as we don’t change all the words at the same time.”
And that is why she’s my love.
Also
dat ass.
@khatsha
My love doesn’t say, “I liked that song you sent me”. She says, “I swear it took my soul, teared it into pieces and then gave it back. I’m still in the process of verifying if it stole any of the pieces for good. Also that logo. I ovulated and died at the same time. My poor poor heart.”
My love doesn’t say, “I’m just hanging around this afternoon”. She says, “I managed to put myself into a truly lugubrious mood by inadvertently listening to Saint Saens’ dance macabre while looking at Picpus Cemetery pictures.”
My love doesn’t say, “Those picture of you were sexy”. She says, “I ovulated so many times, that I could get pregnant with a record amount of babies.”
My love doesn’t say, “I really shouldn’t be so turned on by the idea of chastity”. She says, “My pussy is the organic equivalent of a handless watch. It’s somewhat pretty, but its smartness level is not through the roof.”
My love doesn’t say, “I don’t feel bratty”. She says, “I’m feeling so dissless right now.”
My love sometimes says things are “mucopalpable.” I’m not sure what that means.
My love doesn’t say, “The way Dan Harmon writes is hot”. She says, “That guy is the elemental of toxicity.”
When I tell my love that you can’t just start using your own meanings for words, like “toxic” to mean alluring, dangerous, and addictive, she says “Vectorial semantics means they’ll figure it out, as long as we don’t change all the words at the same time.”
And that is why she’s my love.
Also
dat ass.
@khatsha
Saturday, March 4, 2017
You're So Fucked
Nothing makes me feel more instantly powerful, and turned on, than a delayed-reaction text like this, from a sub I have put under hypnotic orgasm control.
This morning, I gave @khatsha the post-hypnotic suggestion that she can’t touch her clit, directly or indirectly. An invisible forcefield stops her hand or tool.
She does, however, feel a craving for the sensation of being filled, and fucked. And her dildo is allowed.
9 hours later I get the texts above.
“GOOD GIRL” Rules You
This is based our real relationship, but shades it much creepier,
leaving out the real-life negotiations, safeguards, checkins etc. I
asked and got permission from khatsha to post it (her exact words being
“The world needs this piece of all-combusting writing.”) But this is a
warning that it’s dark.
GOOD GIRL. It feels good when I say that, doesn’t it, @khatsha? I made it feel good, by hypnotizing you.
I mean, as a submissive, my submissive, you wouldn’t ever have hated hearing that from me. It’s probably always been a deep part of your kink. But I also installed it in you, with a post-hypnotic suggestion, and associated it with pleasure. Unlike all the other trigger phrases I can say that send pleasure crashing through your body, I shaped this one for a purpose. Do you remember when I gave you that post-hypnotic suggestion, that GOOD GIRL will give you pleasure of a specific kind - an endorphin dump in your mind, not just your pussy. It feels like a job well done, like my approval, like pure satisfaction. All the warm fuzzies, in your chest and between your legs.
It seems so sweet and caring, doesn’t it, saying GOOD GIRL? Imagining sitting at my feet, me stroking your hair and praising you for being such a GOOD GIRL.
But do you know, this is how I rule you?
At first I had just one pleasure trigger that I used both to reward you, and also whenever the fuck I wanted. Anytime I felt like making you shiver and gasp. But then I decided that I would split them off, and withhold GOOD GIRL for very specific occasions. That is, when you did something I wanted. Whether it’s suck me off, bring me a piece of cake, finish a writing I assign you, or respond to my sleep trigger. I know you like to obey anyway. But do you know that I’m building a very specific neural link between obeying me and getting my reward?
Over time, obeying me feels more and more natural and automatic, and your body learns to expect that reward. To ache in anticipation, each second until I give it to you. In fact this is me exploiting your dopamine system. Can you feel how controlled this makes you? Do you see that, despite all your intelligence and rich emotional life, during those long seconds you are reduced to a salivating dog?
You know, I learned how to do this to you from a book called Reaching the Animal Mind by Karen Pryor, which is all about clicker training for dogs and other pets. It sounds so nice, training pets without any kind of punishment or even correction. Just a steady flow of treats when the criteria set by the trainer are met. But I wonder, is this the most degrading thing of all for a proud animal, to be so perfectly dominated by a human master? So completely controlled by its desire for treats?
There are so many other principles from this book I aim to use on you, my love, with names like targetting, tag points, and cuing. I copied down this passage:
I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to break a habit, something that’s become automatic. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to resist checking a notification on your phone, or staying away from a favourite mobile game with its irresistable DINGs of victory. Mobile app makers have the same psychological and animal training knowledge - they know about the dopamine system, about stimulus-reward pathways. It doesn’t even take that many trials, to cement that link. And once made, it’s very hard to break. Just the energy you use to resist the urge to give in and get that reward, can tire you out enough that you’ll give in anyway.
If you think you’re a slave to your phone, how much more of a slave might you become to me, who can make your pussy throb just by telling it to PULSE NOW?
Did you know that this sets in motion a secondary reward system? As you learn what earns GOOD GIRL, and in general how to please me, your body starts to release its own mini reward every time you follow my instructions or do something for me. You’re self-training with absolutely no input from me!
Of course that feeling is only a faint echo of GOOD GIRL. And you know how it makes the anticipation, and the explosion of satisfaction from GOOD GIRL that much more powerful, when you next hear it from my text message or my voice. There’s nothing like the real thing.
By the way, I know you’re feeling it each time you read GOOD GIRL in this text, and that’s perfectly fine. I bet you’re so horny by the time you finish that you need to get off. I’m picturing you right now, rubbing yourself and whispering over and over, “I’m a good girl. I’m a good girl.” How much stronger than usual will that orgasm be? But what’s making me smile right now is knowing that you have been blocking yourself from fully experiencing the pleasure of these GOOD GIRLs, since you know you haven’t earned them.
But you will soon. What wouldn’t you do, on my command, to earn your next GOOD GIRL?
GOOD GIRL. It feels good when I say that, doesn’t it, @khatsha? I made it feel good, by hypnotizing you.
I mean, as a submissive, my submissive, you wouldn’t ever have hated hearing that from me. It’s probably always been a deep part of your kink. But I also installed it in you, with a post-hypnotic suggestion, and associated it with pleasure. Unlike all the other trigger phrases I can say that send pleasure crashing through your body, I shaped this one for a purpose. Do you remember when I gave you that post-hypnotic suggestion, that GOOD GIRL will give you pleasure of a specific kind - an endorphin dump in your mind, not just your pussy. It feels like a job well done, like my approval, like pure satisfaction. All the warm fuzzies, in your chest and between your legs.
It seems so sweet and caring, doesn’t it, saying GOOD GIRL? Imagining sitting at my feet, me stroking your hair and praising you for being such a GOOD GIRL.
But do you know, this is how I rule you?
At first I had just one pleasure trigger that I used both to reward you, and also whenever the fuck I wanted. Anytime I felt like making you shiver and gasp. But then I decided that I would split them off, and withhold GOOD GIRL for very specific occasions. That is, when you did something I wanted. Whether it’s suck me off, bring me a piece of cake, finish a writing I assign you, or respond to my sleep trigger. I know you like to obey anyway. But do you know that I’m building a very specific neural link between obeying me and getting my reward?
Over time, obeying me feels more and more natural and automatic, and your body learns to expect that reward. To ache in anticipation, each second until I give it to you. In fact this is me exploiting your dopamine system. Can you feel how controlled this makes you? Do you see that, despite all your intelligence and rich emotional life, during those long seconds you are reduced to a salivating dog?
You know, I learned how to do this to you from a book called Reaching the Animal Mind by Karen Pryor, which is all about clicker training for dogs and other pets. It sounds so nice, training pets without any kind of punishment or even correction. Just a steady flow of treats when the criteria set by the trainer are met. But I wonder, is this the most degrading thing of all for a proud animal, to be so perfectly dominated by a human master? So completely controlled by its desire for treats?
There are so many other principles from this book I aim to use on you, my love, with names like targetting, tag points, and cuing. I copied down this passage:
The cue thus becomes reinforcing in itself. Any time you give a well-learned cue, you are actually reinforcing whatever else the individual you are cuing happens to be doing at the time.Maybe my favourite is behavioural shaping: set a new standard, and then only reward behaviour that reaches that standard. In that way complex chains of actions, with very precise requirements, can be trained. You will still be getting plenty of GOOD GIRL - I get off on those shivers and blushes after all - but eventually you will be working harder for it, following my protocols more perfectly. You’ll also be encouraged to think of new ways to please me. New tricks that might earn GOOD GIRL.
I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to break a habit, something that’s become automatic. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to resist checking a notification on your phone, or staying away from a favourite mobile game with its irresistable DINGs of victory. Mobile app makers have the same psychological and animal training knowledge - they know about the dopamine system, about stimulus-reward pathways. It doesn’t even take that many trials, to cement that link. And once made, it’s very hard to break. Just the energy you use to resist the urge to give in and get that reward, can tire you out enough that you’ll give in anyway.
If you think you’re a slave to your phone, how much more of a slave might you become to me, who can make your pussy throb just by telling it to PULSE NOW?
Did you know that this sets in motion a secondary reward system? As you learn what earns GOOD GIRL, and in general how to please me, your body starts to release its own mini reward every time you follow my instructions or do something for me. You’re self-training with absolutely no input from me!
Of course that feeling is only a faint echo of GOOD GIRL. And you know how it makes the anticipation, and the explosion of satisfaction from GOOD GIRL that much more powerful, when you next hear it from my text message or my voice. There’s nothing like the real thing.
By the way, I know you’re feeling it each time you read GOOD GIRL in this text, and that’s perfectly fine. I bet you’re so horny by the time you finish that you need to get off. I’m picturing you right now, rubbing yourself and whispering over and over, “I’m a good girl. I’m a good girl.” How much stronger than usual will that orgasm be? But what’s making me smile right now is knowing that you have been blocking yourself from fully experiencing the pleasure of these GOOD GIRLs, since you know you haven’t earned them.
But you will soon. What wouldn’t you do, on my command, to earn your next GOOD GIRL?
Hypnosis is Back on Fetlife and Down with Cynicism
Remember, you cannot be both young and wise. Young people who pretend to be wise to the ways of the world are mostly just cynics. Cynicism masquerades as wisdom, but it is the farthest thing from it. Because cynics don’t learn anything. Because cynicism is a self-imposed blindness, a rejection of the world because we are afraid it will hurt us or disappoint us.Hypnosis is no longer banned on Fetlife. All our groups that abruptly vanished the night of January 16th, such as Erotic Hypnosis with its 16,000 members and 326 pages of topics, are being restored.
- Stephen Colbert
This is such amazing news!
And we’re better off than ever, because search for “hypnosis” is not blocked. The thing that happened to my beloved @khatsha won’t happen again: searching for her kink on a fetish website and thinking, oh my god, I’m too sick and twisted even for these people (you’re not!).
The erotic hypnosis community doesn’t need Fetlife - and this was a scary wakeup call to just how complacently we’d become in letting one commercial website stitch us together - but on Fetlife we grew and flourished, organized yearly events that spanned the continent and onto other continents, and now, at least for a time, we will continue to grow on that platform. Besides being a nicely designed social network that at least tries to create a safer and less gross atmosphere (despite many failures), Fetlife connects us hypnopervs with the larger kink world, bringing in new people who get intrigued by the connection with other BDSM staples like power exchange, bondage, and roleplay, like the dozens of people who walked into the hypnolounge during the three days of the New England Fetish Flea Market.
Even more important, connection to mainstream BDSM gives us the explicit consent framework that has been critical for the development of the idea of ethical hypnosis play. Without it, it would have been so hard to get to the concepts of thorough negotiation, opposing consent violation, and empowering people who are bottoming to stop and redirect scenes. What else would we have as a model? Mind control porn, stage hypnosis, and the psychology profession, all of which are severely busted in their consent models.
The groups could all vanish overnight again tomorrow, and it wouldn’t change the fact that something good happened. Surviving as a political person means celebrating every single victory, and I intend to celebrate the heck out of this one!
I’m an anxious person who hates to feel out of control (see also: mc fetishist), and so I’m vulnerable to the temptation of cynicism. In fact I am ashamed to think that I fell victim to its sticky indulgence this time. I can remember myself saying to people this would be the end of us on Fetlife, that we wouldn’t find a replacement home for a long time, that there would be more rounds of erasure of our community, which would be less algorithmic and more personal and vicious (in the first round just groups with “hypnosis” in the title or description were nuked, leaving “hypno”, “mind control”, etc).
I was wrong. And the move to despair made me quite useless - I did almost nothing to support my beliefs, because I was so afraid of being disappointed and feeling even more helpless. Meanwhile mephki was organizing the effort to start a new forum, SusanWright of the National Coalition For Sexual Freedom was fighting for us behind and in front of the scenes, and many other people were contributing essays and activism.
Most frustratingly, I was going against years of my own resolutions. In searching for the quotation at the top by Stephen Colbert about cynicism in my notes, I realized that I have been copying similar quotations about it for *12 years*. I must reread them on a regular basis, whenever I feel that temptation.
No one knows what’s going to happen. But victories are going to happen, real ones. Show up, and you can be there for them.
In the end we shall have had enough of cynicism, skepticism and humbug, and we shall want to live - more musically. How will this come about, and what will we discover?(who knew Van Gogh was an Ericksonian!)
- Vincent Van Gogh
Scenes From My Day As A Sith Lord
I spent Sunday at the New England Fetish Fleamarket dressed up as Kylo Ren (minus mask and lightsaber), both because at the Flea you can be whatever the fuck you want, and because I considered it the most erotically compelling outfit I own - to the types of women I want to erotically compel.
Right from the start it was very fun reaching out with my black leather gloves to hypnotically force choke the shit out of @onlyseventhoughts and MaraFae - @zanythoughts signature move that I totally stole, and then got to practice alongside the master (“Always two there are”)
But putting on those gloves and robes, and striding like you are forced to do in those robes (or you will trip)… did something to me.
…
Looking out the hotel room window at the snowy parking lot, fists on hips: “SOON I WILL RULE THE FLEA, ALL YOU PEONS IN YOUR UTILITY KILTS!”
…
“Hey, what do you think, leggings or not?”
“I DON’T CARE.”
…
People on the elevator down to breakfast: “Hey, you’re Kylo Ren!” “I call Kylo Ren the whiniest sith.” “Yeah he’s no Darth Vader.”
Under my breath: “I WILL DESTROY THEM.”
…
“You’re pretty cute you know.”
“WHAT?”
“You’re like an adorable fluffy bunnny.”
“I BELIEVE THE WORDS YOU ARE LOOKING FOR ARE POWERFUL, DANGEROUS DARK LORD.”
“No, soooo cute.”
“WHERE DID I PUT MY CHOKING GLOVES.”
…
A funny moment out of character, while volunteering as a greeter at the hypnolounge (I thought my “Ask me about Hypnosis!” badge went well with the costume).
New person: “I’m interested in hypnosis, but I just can’t see myself getting involved with satanism.”
Me: “Huh?”
Her: “Yeah, all the dark rituals and stuff.”
Me: “…wait, is this about the robes?”
The first person she met, lurking in the hallway, was wearing hooded robes, so she assumed we were up to some rituals!
…
But the most eerily accurate thing I heard come out of my mouth was at breakfast.
Struggling with the little milk carton, @zanythoughts taking it and saying “here, let me.”
“I CAN OPEN MY MILK!!”
Tuesday, November 22, 2016
Awwwwww Boston You're My Home!
When I left Boston, things were just starting to get really, really good. It was painful to be torn away from it - even if it was for two beautiful years in Italy. Although it was an amazing period, and even included some public kink, such as workshops in Milan, Ireland, London, Switzerland, and of course NEEHU in Connecticut (twice!), I felt way too far from flourishing north american erotic hypnosis.
Now I've just completed a dizzyingly intense but very satisfactory career change (which is why I've been flying under the radar, even though I've been here since September). And it means I get to control where and how I live more than ever before. I choose Boston. Home of the New England Hypnosis Group, and striking distance to TES, the Geeky Kink Event, Deepmind Darkwood, the Fetish Flea Market, Manchester Hypnosis Munch, and many other wonderful events and groups. And it won't cost me $1000 to go to NEEHU, thank christ. And Boston is the big, tiny, brainy, knuckleheaded, loud, contemplative, historical, trendy, prudish, perverted city that's won my heart.
Most of all it's about the people - those unforgettable, super-creative, big-hearted kinksters I met during my previous 3 years here, and the future friends I hope to meet.
Now that I've found a home, my number two priority is building community - in particular, consent-oriented erotic hypnosis community. I want to be super involved in the exciting development of hypnosis as an art (including the art of negotiation) that happens when we exchange ideas and experiences. I want to see and do lots of sexy hypnosis. And I want to introduce it to many people and communities who have never heard of it or didn't think it could be their thing.
My number one priority is getting my girlfriend over here. My spectacular swiss miss khatsha, who completely outshines me in charm, style, and presenting ability - and is at least as big of a hypnoperv. Not only do I love her and love being around her, but she will make a fearsome partner in growing Boston hypnosis. We have a lot to figure out, and there's always risk, but I want this to happen so much, so soon. It won't be long now!
In the meantime, whether you're someone I knew from before, or a new acquaintance, I'm really looking forward to saying hi! It's just the beginning.
Now I've just completed a dizzyingly intense but very satisfactory career change (which is why I've been flying under the radar, even though I've been here since September). And it means I get to control where and how I live more than ever before. I choose Boston. Home of the New England Hypnosis Group, and striking distance to TES, the Geeky Kink Event, Deepmind Darkwood, the Fetish Flea Market, Manchester Hypnosis Munch, and many other wonderful events and groups. And it won't cost me $1000 to go to NEEHU, thank christ. And Boston is the big, tiny, brainy, knuckleheaded, loud, contemplative, historical, trendy, prudish, perverted city that's won my heart.
Most of all it's about the people - those unforgettable, super-creative, big-hearted kinksters I met during my previous 3 years here, and the future friends I hope to meet.
Now that I've found a home, my number two priority is building community - in particular, consent-oriented erotic hypnosis community. I want to be super involved in the exciting development of hypnosis as an art (including the art of negotiation) that happens when we exchange ideas and experiences. I want to see and do lots of sexy hypnosis. And I want to introduce it to many people and communities who have never heard of it or didn't think it could be their thing.
My number one priority is getting my girlfriend over here. My spectacular swiss miss khatsha, who completely outshines me in charm, style, and presenting ability - and is at least as big of a hypnoperv. Not only do I love her and love being around her, but she will make a fearsome partner in growing Boston hypnosis. We have a lot to figure out, and there's always risk, but I want this to happen so much, so soon. It won't be long now!
In the meantime, whether you're someone I knew from before, or a new acquaintance, I'm really looking forward to saying hi! It's just the beginning.
Monday, August 1, 2016
The Men Who Want to Live in Pornutopia
At least two friends asked me not to go to the party.
This was a few years ago in Boston. It was one in a series of retro 50s-themed parties, with only submissive women and only dominant men, and a Mad-Men-style dress code. In an earlier, public version of the description he wrote, "Women who come should expect to be groped!" (people got mad about that one, so he took it down)
Why did I go? First, a female friend invited me, and I knew two other female acquaintances that were going. Second, I was flattered to be invited to present about hypnosis, something I was longing to do, and to be invited to a closed sex party in general. Also, I wanted to.
But I recognized something in this ad - this is a guy who wants to live in pornutopia. Pornutopia is the world that mainstream, vanilla hetero porn takes place in (although the concept easily extends to kinky tastes), filled with only women who are hot and hyperfeminine to hetero male taste, have no limits, just want to please, and are willing with the slightest proposition. (it's also similar to Japanese dating videogames, or, if you're old like me, Leisure Suit Larry).
Our host, let's call him Pete, was a short muscular guy in his forties, who had transformed his small apartment into a 50s wonderland. Every piece of furniture was styled after the 50s and early 60s, immaculate mid-century modern, even the massive chrome fridge, which he proudly told us he had trained his sub to defrost. This interest went deep - I heard him give a little speech about how much more awesome the 50s were, which was impressive because he was talking to a black woman. When she gently pointed out it wasn't that awesome for black women, he let it pass by.
Despite that awkwardness, I was feeling pretty groovy. All of us were standing in the kitchen drinking martinis, the men in suits and ties, the women in pretty dresses that poofed. Vintage black and white porn was projected in a little square on a wall.
Both men and women spent a fair bit of time shit-talking other Boston kink events and communities: those folks are uptight and prudish, they're ready to condemn you for the slightest little thing, there's no sexiness - all they do at their parties is sit around and talk about consent and social justice. About the last point I thought to myself, they're not completely wrong.
Pete contrasted his own event and its safety approach, which is that he personally screened every invitee, male and female, by having dinner with them.
We did our hypnosis presentation. It went great.
Pete had said repeatedly, "I find that play begins organically over the course of the night." But it was pretty late, with just four men and three women left, when Pete clapped his hands and said, "Ok, now the play starts."
There was a public paddling over the kitchen table, and then two pairings started having sex in the living room. There was a not-great vibe - I heard the phrase, "how come you're the only one left with your bra on?" - but I stuck around. My friend was my ride home, and also I wanted to see. I was a year in the kink community, and had never been to a party with intercourse or oral sex. I was impressed that Pete had managed to create a porn-style orgy situation, even if on a smaller scale than he had clearly envisioned (a "Give oral sex to Pete" signup sheet that he was pointing out on the fridge remained sadly empty).
I learned later that my friend had a really bad night. Pete pressured her into having sex when she didn't want to.
She broke off their relationship. He continued cold-messaging submissive women who are new to Fetlife to invite them to his parties.
I am responsible for supporting this party and the things that happened at it. I also received oral sex for a bit, a point that I have deleted and rewritten tons of times because I feel ashamed of it, and then ashamed of being ashamed (it was a sex party after all!), and also because I don't want to seem like I am slut-shaming the woman who offered it.
But at least I've learned this. Don't try to create pornutopia. Don't round off, when you get so close to pornutopia that you feel like you could really live there - with a little push. (in case I'm being too subtle, that's how my friend got raped.)
And watch out for those fuckers who do.
This was a few years ago in Boston. It was one in a series of retro 50s-themed parties, with only submissive women and only dominant men, and a Mad-Men-style dress code. In an earlier, public version of the description he wrote, "Women who come should expect to be groped!" (people got mad about that one, so he took it down)
Why did I go? First, a female friend invited me, and I knew two other female acquaintances that were going. Second, I was flattered to be invited to present about hypnosis, something I was longing to do, and to be invited to a closed sex party in general. Also, I wanted to.
But I recognized something in this ad - this is a guy who wants to live in pornutopia. Pornutopia is the world that mainstream, vanilla hetero porn takes place in (although the concept easily extends to kinky tastes), filled with only women who are hot and hyperfeminine to hetero male taste, have no limits, just want to please, and are willing with the slightest proposition. (it's also similar to Japanese dating videogames, or, if you're old like me, Leisure Suit Larry).
Our host, let's call him Pete, was a short muscular guy in his forties, who had transformed his small apartment into a 50s wonderland. Every piece of furniture was styled after the 50s and early 60s, immaculate mid-century modern, even the massive chrome fridge, which he proudly told us he had trained his sub to defrost. This interest went deep - I heard him give a little speech about how much more awesome the 50s were, which was impressive because he was talking to a black woman. When she gently pointed out it wasn't that awesome for black women, he let it pass by.
Despite that awkwardness, I was feeling pretty groovy. All of us were standing in the kitchen drinking martinis, the men in suits and ties, the women in pretty dresses that poofed. Vintage black and white porn was projected in a little square on a wall.
Both men and women spent a fair bit of time shit-talking other Boston kink events and communities: those folks are uptight and prudish, they're ready to condemn you for the slightest little thing, there's no sexiness - all they do at their parties is sit around and talk about consent and social justice. About the last point I thought to myself, they're not completely wrong.
Pete contrasted his own event and its safety approach, which is that he personally screened every invitee, male and female, by having dinner with them.
We did our hypnosis presentation. It went great.
Pete had said repeatedly, "I find that play begins organically over the course of the night." But it was pretty late, with just four men and three women left, when Pete clapped his hands and said, "Ok, now the play starts."
There was a public paddling over the kitchen table, and then two pairings started having sex in the living room. There was a not-great vibe - I heard the phrase, "how come you're the only one left with your bra on?" - but I stuck around. My friend was my ride home, and also I wanted to see. I was a year in the kink community, and had never been to a party with intercourse or oral sex. I was impressed that Pete had managed to create a porn-style orgy situation, even if on a smaller scale than he had clearly envisioned (a "Give oral sex to Pete" signup sheet that he was pointing out on the fridge remained sadly empty).
I learned later that my friend had a really bad night. Pete pressured her into having sex when she didn't want to.
She broke off their relationship. He continued cold-messaging submissive women who are new to Fetlife to invite them to his parties.
I am responsible for supporting this party and the things that happened at it. I also received oral sex for a bit, a point that I have deleted and rewritten tons of times because I feel ashamed of it, and then ashamed of being ashamed (it was a sex party after all!), and also because I don't want to seem like I am slut-shaming the woman who offered it.
But at least I've learned this. Don't try to create pornutopia. Don't round off, when you get so close to pornutopia that you feel like you could really live there - with a little push. (in case I'm being too subtle, that's how my friend got raped.)
And watch out for those fuckers who do.
Thursday, June 30, 2016
Safety and Security (An Erotic Hypnosis Story)
- And WAKE UP.
- ...You're having fun, aren't you.
- It's not my fault the intro animation for the inflight entertainment is hypnotic! I barely had to give you a nudge.
- What you call a nudge, some people would call grabbing my hair and shoving my face into your chest.
- And you loved it. Even without the constant hypnosis, though, this is a pretty nice flight. The touchscreen works, and we will get tiny food items!
- Yeah! I just wish we didn't have to go through US security. That's going to suck.
- Ok, hang on, I'm going to do something to your brain. By the way, I like that I can just say that now, and you have to go along with it.
- Yes you can, and yes I do.
- And now you're blushing. Head back on the headrest, and SLEEP
- So this is it. Beyond those doors lies the TSA and the American airport security aparatus. How do you feel?
- I'm pretty freaked out.
- AMBER WAVES OF GRAIN.
- That did something, right? It must have. What did it do?
- What do you think it did?
- I don't know, I feel the same. You're going to get me, aren't you.
- Ok here we are. You see up ahead we're going to have to split up, since I've got a Canadian and you have a European passport. What do you think of your first view of the TSA?
- Wow...it's so much more efficient than I thought it would be. They're really good at their jobs!
- Yes, that's what the TSA is famous for.
- You're sarcastic, I can tell, but they really are pretty amazing! Super thorough and careful...I think these must be the elite!
- Maybe today we got their A squad.
- And...they're kind of sexy.
- I guess if you're into no-iron pleated pants...
- THAT'S what you did to me! You made me lust after the TSA officials!
- I will neither confirm nor deny that.
- Well the joke's on you, because competence is sexy anyway, and that's what they all have. I'd like to see someone attack America with these guys on the job! You'd have to be an idiot to try.
- You see everybody taking off their shoes and putting them on the conveyor belt? What do you think about that?
- ...I mean I read Bruce Schneier about that-
- It's for your safety and security.
- Then of course! I'll start taking them off right now!
- You see that guard confiscation that 3/4 empty water bottle from that old lady?
- Yes, that makes sense. Because of liquid explosives. They really have a tight net.
- Now you see him drop that water bottle, that might be explosives, to the bottom of that garbage bin 6 inches to the left? That makes sense?
- Absolutely. I can tell he knows what he's doing. So hot.
- I'll bet you'd have no problem getting a full body scan right now?
- It's part of the modern technology keeping America safe, so of course!
- Wouldn't you feel kind of exposed and submissive, with your arms overhead like that, and an agent watching your naked body on his screen?
- It's a pleasure to comply with the TSA. And if that guy gets to see my nipples - um, actually yay.
- Let's say the scanner is broken. Would you be ok with an invasive body search?
- Of course, it's all part of how it works. It's a well-oiled security machine.
- Even if they made you take off your clothes?
- What, like in a room off to the side?
- No, here, in front of all these people standing in line.
- Well-
- It would be for your safety and security.
- Then yes, absolutely. It's a pleasure to comply.
- Let's say that lady starts running the wand over your naked body, in a way that feels like she's definitely getting off on it.
- Well I'm sure it would actually be for professional reasons.
- And that other agent is staring at you and clearly has an erection.
- Uh, ok!
- You'd do anything they told you to do, would you?
- Yes. If it's for my safety and security, of course.
- Like let's say that big guy with the beard bent you over that metal table, smeared lubricant on his glove and started pumping two fingers in and out of your pussy. And the other agents are laughing at you in a mean way.
- ...safety and security?
- Yes.
- Him?
- Yes.
- ...then I guess I wouldn't need the lube...In fact I'm pretty good right now.
- Ok, here's where we split up. In five minutes it will all be over. Ready to comply?
- Mmhmm.
- See that's not so bad, right?
- That was EXHILIRATING. Mmmmm. Can we do it again?
- Ha ha. You've got a nice rosy glow to you.
- I had no idea how good the TSA is at this. And how good they look doing it! So awesome. Why doesn't everybody just imitate the Americans? And I almost feel guilty about enjoying those fringe benefits...
- You want me to turn it off now?
- I don't know, whatever you did must have been pretty light.
- Really? What do you think of America?
- It's the greatest country in the world, and a shining beacon of light to all the others. Ok, you need to turn it off. I am really going to have social problems with my friends back home.
- FRANCO UN-AMERICAN.
- America has lots of problems, and all that was worthless security theater. Phew, that's better.
- Welcome back!
- ...I didn't really get fucked by the TSA, did I?
- Do you feel like you did?
- Yes.
- Well, then that's all that matters.
Inspired by a real scene, but no federal employees were perved on in the making of it.
- ...You're having fun, aren't you.
- It's not my fault the intro animation for the inflight entertainment is hypnotic! I barely had to give you a nudge.
- What you call a nudge, some people would call grabbing my hair and shoving my face into your chest.
- And you loved it. Even without the constant hypnosis, though, this is a pretty nice flight. The touchscreen works, and we will get tiny food items!
- Yeah! I just wish we didn't have to go through US security. That's going to suck.
- Ok, hang on, I'm going to do something to your brain. By the way, I like that I can just say that now, and you have to go along with it.
- Yes you can, and yes I do.
- And now you're blushing. Head back on the headrest, and SLEEP
- So this is it. Beyond those doors lies the TSA and the American airport security aparatus. How do you feel?
- I'm pretty freaked out.
- AMBER WAVES OF GRAIN.
- That did something, right? It must have. What did it do?
- What do you think it did?
- I don't know, I feel the same. You're going to get me, aren't you.
- Ok here we are. You see up ahead we're going to have to split up, since I've got a Canadian and you have a European passport. What do you think of your first view of the TSA?
- Wow...it's so much more efficient than I thought it would be. They're really good at their jobs!
- Yes, that's what the TSA is famous for.
- You're sarcastic, I can tell, but they really are pretty amazing! Super thorough and careful...I think these must be the elite!
- Maybe today we got their A squad.
- And...they're kind of sexy.
- I guess if you're into no-iron pleated pants...
- THAT'S what you did to me! You made me lust after the TSA officials!
- I will neither confirm nor deny that.
- Well the joke's on you, because competence is sexy anyway, and that's what they all have. I'd like to see someone attack America with these guys on the job! You'd have to be an idiot to try.
- You see everybody taking off their shoes and putting them on the conveyor belt? What do you think about that?
- ...I mean I read Bruce Schneier about that-
- It's for your safety and security.
- Then of course! I'll start taking them off right now!
- You see that guard confiscation that 3/4 empty water bottle from that old lady?
- Yes, that makes sense. Because of liquid explosives. They really have a tight net.
- Now you see him drop that water bottle, that might be explosives, to the bottom of that garbage bin 6 inches to the left? That makes sense?
- Absolutely. I can tell he knows what he's doing. So hot.
- I'll bet you'd have no problem getting a full body scan right now?
- It's part of the modern technology keeping America safe, so of course!
- Wouldn't you feel kind of exposed and submissive, with your arms overhead like that, and an agent watching your naked body on his screen?
- It's a pleasure to comply with the TSA. And if that guy gets to see my nipples - um, actually yay.
- Let's say the scanner is broken. Would you be ok with an invasive body search?
- Of course, it's all part of how it works. It's a well-oiled security machine.
- Even if they made you take off your clothes?
- What, like in a room off to the side?
- No, here, in front of all these people standing in line.
- Well-
- It would be for your safety and security.
- Then yes, absolutely. It's a pleasure to comply.
- Let's say that lady starts running the wand over your naked body, in a way that feels like she's definitely getting off on it.
- Well I'm sure it would actually be for professional reasons.
- And that other agent is staring at you and clearly has an erection.
- Uh, ok!
- You'd do anything they told you to do, would you?
- Yes. If it's for my safety and security, of course.
- Like let's say that big guy with the beard bent you over that metal table, smeared lubricant on his glove and started pumping two fingers in and out of your pussy. And the other agents are laughing at you in a mean way.
- ...safety and security?
- Yes.
- Him?
- Yes.
- ...then I guess I wouldn't need the lube...In fact I'm pretty good right now.
- Ok, here's where we split up. In five minutes it will all be over. Ready to comply?
- Mmhmm.
- See that's not so bad, right?
- That was EXHILIRATING. Mmmmm. Can we do it again?
- Ha ha. You've got a nice rosy glow to you.
- I had no idea how good the TSA is at this. And how good they look doing it! So awesome. Why doesn't everybody just imitate the Americans? And I almost feel guilty about enjoying those fringe benefits...
- You want me to turn it off now?
- I don't know, whatever you did must have been pretty light.
- Really? What do you think of America?
- It's the greatest country in the world, and a shining beacon of light to all the others. Ok, you need to turn it off. I am really going to have social problems with my friends back home.
- FRANCO UN-AMERICAN.
- America has lots of problems, and all that was worthless security theater. Phew, that's better.
- Welcome back!
- ...I didn't really get fucked by the TSA, did I?
- Do you feel like you did?
- Yes.
- Well, then that's all that matters.
Inspired by a real scene, but no federal employees were perved on in the making of it.
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
NEEHU 7: I Want It All
I'm standing in the pool, with one arm under khatsha's knees and another supporting her head, keeping her face above the surface. Her eyes are closed and her face muscles are slack - trusting, dreaming. I'm turning gently, letting the water brush past her, deepening the trance. She's drifting in my arms. Later she'll have no idea how much time passed, and neither will I. One moment.
So I took khatsha to the New England Erotic Hypnosis Unconference 7. As my friend abbystract would say, this was a Good Life Decision. NEEHU is amazing no matter what, but if you can swing it, I recommend bringing a super sexy and charming hypnofetishist partner.
The particular joy of it for me was seeing it through her eyes, a whole world of hot possibilities and things to learn about. To go from thinking she was literally the only one with those kind of perverted fantasies (no thanks to Fetlife blocking "hypnosis" from search results!) to being in a dungeon for four days with 150 hypnokinksters, well, that was awesome just to stand next to.
First we flew, from Italy and Switzerland respectively, to England for Lee Allure's London Hypnosis Workshop, which was spectacular on its own and a great chance for me to introduce her to my English kinkster friends.
Lee lectured to a living room of about 30 people, and led us through many great exercises, such as a mutual trance. Especially Lee's demo with lizzydoll was scorchingly hot, and so was the play party on Saturday night, where among many tricks and games I made khatsha believe she was running around naked. Interestingly, that is how that evening has been encoded in her memory.
On Sunday I had a scene I'd been planning for ages with FeminineLogic, my Birmingham Skype playmate, where everything I said would be perceived as outrageous innuendo, which went wonderfully with her natural raunchiness and great laugh. But just as memorable for me was having disgusting fried food items at a chip shop with khatsha and FeminineLogic, driving around Croydon and Battersea, singing the Kinks in the car, sitting on the floor of the Travelodge room and drinking blackberry wine, and having the full monty english breakfast in an ancient pub.
After a nice few days in Boston recharging, we were delighted to ride to Connecticut on Thursday with JasmineFairy and DeviantSimian, two of my favourite hypno people from my Boston days.
In my 3rd year, the dungeon of The Society in Hartford, CT is starting to feel positively homey, though it was fun to imagine it as a newcomer - it looks like a real estate office where a Halloween party planner cleared out the furniture and overcommitted to a Salem witch trial theme, complete with lots of wooden furniture with straps. I loved walking around the dungeon and introducing khatsha to all my hypnofriends, many of whom, like Chewtoy and Wiseguy, she was super excited to meet from their online activity. A part I didn't love: pointing out the people who have consent violation accusations against them.
Over the four days, some of the best moments were the most spontaneous, like when we were all sitting around in the lounge area and Pinky blew soap bubbles at khatsha, and I started telling her that with every bubble that hit her, she'd feel a burst of pleasure, and get more bubbly and silly with each bubble. Pinky turned it into a co-topping scene, blowing lots and lots of bubbles into khatsha's face, which she caught with childlike joy. Pinky started to tease her that there were no more bubbles left at one point. Though we laughed at her reaction, khatsha told me later that she'd experienced genuine pain and sorrow at that idea. A good lesson: even if the vulnerability is meant to be silly and artificial, feelings still need to be taken seriously.
Our class was scheduled for 9 a.m. on Saturday - my first time ever presenting at NEEHU! Here is the class description:
To my surprise, despite the early hour we had practically a full classroom! I'm really grateful that people made it - khatsha gave everyone swiss chocolate as a thank you for waking up. All of my evil suggestions went beautifully, and khatsha got solid laughs with her clever strategies for resistance. For example, at one point I made her say the word "broccoli" every time she thought of a penis. It's my sexy/mean version of "don't think of a white bear". But khatsha, using her hacker problem-solving, realized that it would only be triggered if she stopped thinking about penis, and then thought about them again. And so she set her mind to only think about a penis.
khatsha didn't want to be considered a co-presenter, out of nerves, but rather wanted to think of herself as demo bottom, despite her critical role in the planning. However she changed her tune when she heard presenters get free "American pizza!" In any case she very much earned the title.
(other American delicacies she was excited to try on this trip: cream soda, Stouffer's Microwave Macaroni and Cheese, the corn dog, Butterfinger, and Twinkies. I tried to warn her about the Twinkies!)
Disaster struck on Saturday afternoon, in the form of a cold. That I got. OH NO!!! Exhausted, I missed all of Saturday afternoon and evening (except for the play party), and all of Sunday until the closing ceremonies! I lay in my hotel bed, writhing in a spicy broth of self pity. Why me? Why does it have to be NEEHU??
I made it to so few classes that I can appreciate them individually. Lee and Hypnosaurus's Trance-formation Combat was an unforgettable display of primeval savagery, as Hypnosaurus and AshcatRed struggled on the carpet for 90 seconds that left them both covered with bruises and scratches. The other combatants were spectacular too, but one of the most thrilling and sexy sights at the conference for me was Hypnosaurus kneeling shirtless at Lee's feet, in trance, her leaning down from her chair to murmur the instructions to turn him into a brave, territorial velociraptor. And Lee's expression of fascinated glee as her dinosaur went into battle.
I saw the confusion play class by the always dashing, always twisted D'Atargnan, and khatsha and I connected beautifully in LordPercival's Rope as Connection class. Though I was mostly out of it due to the cold, I liked Ariadne's Creative Inductions class, where attendees tranced each other with dollar store items chosen out of a bag. I sent khatsha to ZanyM's hypnotic breathplay class, knowing it would blow her away, and it did - man it was fun splitting up and then comparing notes later. Finally, the mentored practice was a fantastic idea, and I got to fulfill my ambition of getting feedback on my technique, from someone I'm a big fan of SpiralTurquoise.
As usual, I suffer looking at all the fantastic classes I missed, but I'm glad I prioritized hanging out with friends. But there wasn't - nearly - enough of everything!!
I saved up my energy and rallied for the saturday night play party, which was a feast for the senses of hypnotic sexiness. Something cool was happening in every corner of the dungeon - not to mention the big public medical experimentation scene happening in the middle, with men and women in lab coats sticking various probes into two moaning naked women lying on tables, noting their reactions on clipboards and cracking jokes.
I got to play with CalamityBrain in the dungeon, a big improvement over Skype! We did some old favourites, like Zeno's Orgasm (that one is my favourite, definitely not hers), and some new and very hot suggestions afforded by being there in person. Later in the evening there was a moment where I and Ariadne were hypnotizing Calamity by lifting and dropping her own boobs - one person per boob.
khatsha got some good play too with various folks, which was really fun for me because I got to hear about other tops' approaches. Then she joined me to go find GleefulAbandon for a scene that was one of my top fantasies. I sat in a comfy chair and they sat on the floor at my feet together, and we started a three-way negotiation. At one point, khatsha said, "Hey, I'm not so sure about that. I don't want to do anything with imagery of damaging my brain." Not having any idea what she was talking about, I said, "Ok, for sure, I'll keep that in mind. But - why?" It turned out she had heard misheard me saying "co-bottoming" as "lobotomy". As in, "are you ok with a lobotomy scene?" This is NEEHU, where if you think you hear that, you have to take it seriously!
After we cleared that up, I had khatsha and GleefulAbandon look into each other's eyes, and I told them to look for signs of trance beginning in each other, and to feel them mirrored in their own body and face. I was beside myself looking back and forth as they quickly, inevitably dropped.
Later we did some of my more intricate pleasure triggers, and it was fascinating how their brains interpreted them differently. Then khatsha and I were both giving GleefulAbandon pleasure, just by stroking her hand, and we looked at each other and realized we absolutely hadn't negotiated anything beyond this even though things were getting hot as hell. Since they were both newly fractionated and fuzzy it wouldn't be ok to negotiate more. I play with lots of consent red tape, but sometimes it hurts! Still an amazing memory.
Another dream come true: getting to know Wiseguy and Dani. Actually, again, this is all khatsha's doing. She went up to him in the hall and said, "I just did my first hypnotic handshake, and I don't see what's so great about it. It's so slow!"
He boggled at her for a second. I boggled at her for a second.
Finally I said to Wiseguy, "You have to realize, she's a pickup artist of hypnotists. You're experiencing her game."
Luckily he laughed, and of course dropped her swiftly with a handshake. Then later, invited us to tag along to dinner! Amazing southern-style BBQ, slopped onto paper placemats.
It meant a lot to be able to chat and ask lots of questions, since Wiseguy and Dani were the first example I'd ever seen of a long term hypnotic couple, years ago at a Mind Play launch event in Massachussetts. So much about how they interacted stuck with me, especially how post-hypnotic triggers could deepen with years of reinforcement, and be a natural and daily part of a relationship. We also talked about building community, something Wiseguy has been central to all along.
I'm so glad I made it to the hotel pool, a Sunday night tradition, and (eventually) to the Dunkin' Donuts breakfast on Monday. We got to spend more time with CalamityBrain on the way back to the over-the-top Cambridge B&B I booked (oh the floral wallpaper! Sat and forever am at work here! Gilmore Girls fans, anyone?), but not before sampling the very American delights of a Hartford Buffalo Wild Wings.
Then there was more wonderful time with just me and khatsha, a few days in Boston and London heavily emphasizing the sins of Lust, Gluttony and Sloth. Again, some of the best memories are the simplest, like showing her Labyrinth on a laptop in Logan Airport, watching her eyes get bigger and bigger at certain scenes. Many of my readers can guess which ones. (by the way I asked, "So did you identify with Sarah?" She said, "Actually, with Sir Didymus!")
Part of why this took so long to finish is that I've been trying to come up with some conclusion that goes deeper than, "yay NEEHU!" and "yay having a partner!"
About the latter: even though every year has been life-changingly amazing, if you read between the lines of my previous NEEHU posts I certainly had my moments of wallflowerism, and tended to retire early - one night I got invited to a suite party, knocked on the door, and had someone say, "we're busy in here!" and close it in my face. I went back to my room and consoled myself with Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt using my old roommates Netflix password. Later that night, my roommate got lucky. So, this year was a lot better. (I got lucky! With khatsha!)
But it was also a reinforcement to me to not be afraid to make big plans, and have big hopes: just because I look forward to something for months, doesn't mean it won't happen, and be fucking awesome. (and worrying about something like getting a cold won't stop it, but it also doesn't have to ruin things) Don't lower your expectations. And work to make these hopes come true: setting up all those planes and rides and six different hotel rooms was so intimidating - not to mention betting a lot on a relatively new relationship - but we did it, and we got the reward.
And in just weeks I'm heading back to North America. This is just the beginning.
So I took khatsha to the New England Erotic Hypnosis Unconference 7. As my friend abbystract would say, this was a Good Life Decision. NEEHU is amazing no matter what, but if you can swing it, I recommend bringing a super sexy and charming hypnofetishist partner.
The particular joy of it for me was seeing it through her eyes, a whole world of hot possibilities and things to learn about. To go from thinking she was literally the only one with those kind of perverted fantasies (no thanks to Fetlife blocking "hypnosis" from search results!) to being in a dungeon for four days with 150 hypnokinksters, well, that was awesome just to stand next to.
First we flew, from Italy and Switzerland respectively, to England for Lee Allure's London Hypnosis Workshop, which was spectacular on its own and a great chance for me to introduce her to my English kinkster friends.
Lee lectured to a living room of about 30 people, and led us through many great exercises, such as a mutual trance. Especially Lee's demo with lizzydoll was scorchingly hot, and so was the play party on Saturday night, where among many tricks and games I made khatsha believe she was running around naked. Interestingly, that is how that evening has been encoded in her memory.
On Sunday I had a scene I'd been planning for ages with FeminineLogic, my Birmingham Skype playmate, where everything I said would be perceived as outrageous innuendo, which went wonderfully with her natural raunchiness and great laugh. But just as memorable for me was having disgusting fried food items at a chip shop with khatsha and FeminineLogic, driving around Croydon and Battersea, singing the Kinks in the car, sitting on the floor of the Travelodge room and drinking blackberry wine, and having the full monty english breakfast in an ancient pub.
After a nice few days in Boston recharging, we were delighted to ride to Connecticut on Thursday with JasmineFairy and DeviantSimian, two of my favourite hypno people from my Boston days.
In my 3rd year, the dungeon of The Society in Hartford, CT is starting to feel positively homey, though it was fun to imagine it as a newcomer - it looks like a real estate office where a Halloween party planner cleared out the furniture and overcommitted to a Salem witch trial theme, complete with lots of wooden furniture with straps. I loved walking around the dungeon and introducing khatsha to all my hypnofriends, many of whom, like Chewtoy and Wiseguy, she was super excited to meet from their online activity. A part I didn't love: pointing out the people who have consent violation accusations against them.
Over the four days, some of the best moments were the most spontaneous, like when we were all sitting around in the lounge area and Pinky blew soap bubbles at khatsha, and I started telling her that with every bubble that hit her, she'd feel a burst of pleasure, and get more bubbly and silly with each bubble. Pinky turned it into a co-topping scene, blowing lots and lots of bubbles into khatsha's face, which she caught with childlike joy. Pinky started to tease her that there were no more bubbles left at one point. Though we laughed at her reaction, khatsha told me later that she'd experienced genuine pain and sorrow at that idea. A good lesson: even if the vulnerability is meant to be silly and artificial, feelings still need to be taken seriously.
Our class was scheduled for 9 a.m. on Saturday - my first time ever presenting at NEEHU! Here is the class description:
Resistance is Useless: The Pleasures of Struggling and Losing
For some hypnotic subjects and their hypnotists, the most delicious thing
is the struggle: struggling not to go into trance, to resist temptation, to
escape ridiculous and humiliating hypnotic predicaments. In this class I
will present totally devious hypnotic suggestions, involving both external
and internal battles of will (which I cheat to win!). They will have your
partner saying "I hate you!" in the warmest possible way...
To my surprise, despite the early hour we had practically a full classroom! I'm really grateful that people made it - khatsha gave everyone swiss chocolate as a thank you for waking up. All of my evil suggestions went beautifully, and khatsha got solid laughs with her clever strategies for resistance. For example, at one point I made her say the word "broccoli" every time she thought of a penis. It's my sexy/mean version of "don't think of a white bear". But khatsha, using her hacker problem-solving, realized that it would only be triggered if she stopped thinking about penis, and then thought about them again. And so she set her mind to only think about a penis.
khatsha didn't want to be considered a co-presenter, out of nerves, but rather wanted to think of herself as demo bottom, despite her critical role in the planning. However she changed her tune when she heard presenters get free "American pizza!" In any case she very much earned the title.
(other American delicacies she was excited to try on this trip: cream soda, Stouffer's Microwave Macaroni and Cheese, the corn dog, Butterfinger, and Twinkies. I tried to warn her about the Twinkies!)
Disaster struck on Saturday afternoon, in the form of a cold. That I got. OH NO!!! Exhausted, I missed all of Saturday afternoon and evening (except for the play party), and all of Sunday until the closing ceremonies! I lay in my hotel bed, writhing in a spicy broth of self pity. Why me? Why does it have to be NEEHU??
I made it to so few classes that I can appreciate them individually. Lee and Hypnosaurus's Trance-formation Combat was an unforgettable display of primeval savagery, as Hypnosaurus and AshcatRed struggled on the carpet for 90 seconds that left them both covered with bruises and scratches. The other combatants were spectacular too, but one of the most thrilling and sexy sights at the conference for me was Hypnosaurus kneeling shirtless at Lee's feet, in trance, her leaning down from her chair to murmur the instructions to turn him into a brave, territorial velociraptor. And Lee's expression of fascinated glee as her dinosaur went into battle.
I saw the confusion play class by the always dashing, always twisted D'Atargnan, and khatsha and I connected beautifully in LordPercival's Rope as Connection class. Though I was mostly out of it due to the cold, I liked Ariadne's Creative Inductions class, where attendees tranced each other with dollar store items chosen out of a bag. I sent khatsha to ZanyM's hypnotic breathplay class, knowing it would blow her away, and it did - man it was fun splitting up and then comparing notes later. Finally, the mentored practice was a fantastic idea, and I got to fulfill my ambition of getting feedback on my technique, from someone I'm a big fan of SpiralTurquoise.
As usual, I suffer looking at all the fantastic classes I missed, but I'm glad I prioritized hanging out with friends. But there wasn't - nearly - enough of everything!!
I saved up my energy and rallied for the saturday night play party, which was a feast for the senses of hypnotic sexiness. Something cool was happening in every corner of the dungeon - not to mention the big public medical experimentation scene happening in the middle, with men and women in lab coats sticking various probes into two moaning naked women lying on tables, noting their reactions on clipboards and cracking jokes.
I got to play with CalamityBrain in the dungeon, a big improvement over Skype! We did some old favourites, like Zeno's Orgasm (that one is my favourite, definitely not hers), and some new and very hot suggestions afforded by being there in person. Later in the evening there was a moment where I and Ariadne were hypnotizing Calamity by lifting and dropping her own boobs - one person per boob.
khatsha got some good play too with various folks, which was really fun for me because I got to hear about other tops' approaches. Then she joined me to go find GleefulAbandon for a scene that was one of my top fantasies. I sat in a comfy chair and they sat on the floor at my feet together, and we started a three-way negotiation. At one point, khatsha said, "Hey, I'm not so sure about that. I don't want to do anything with imagery of damaging my brain." Not having any idea what she was talking about, I said, "Ok, for sure, I'll keep that in mind. But - why?" It turned out she had heard misheard me saying "co-bottoming" as "lobotomy". As in, "are you ok with a lobotomy scene?" This is NEEHU, where if you think you hear that, you have to take it seriously!
After we cleared that up, I had khatsha and GleefulAbandon look into each other's eyes, and I told them to look for signs of trance beginning in each other, and to feel them mirrored in their own body and face. I was beside myself looking back and forth as they quickly, inevitably dropped.
Later we did some of my more intricate pleasure triggers, and it was fascinating how their brains interpreted them differently. Then khatsha and I were both giving GleefulAbandon pleasure, just by stroking her hand, and we looked at each other and realized we absolutely hadn't negotiated anything beyond this even though things were getting hot as hell. Since they were both newly fractionated and fuzzy it wouldn't be ok to negotiate more. I play with lots of consent red tape, but sometimes it hurts! Still an amazing memory.
Another dream come true: getting to know Wiseguy and Dani. Actually, again, this is all khatsha's doing. She went up to him in the hall and said, "I just did my first hypnotic handshake, and I don't see what's so great about it. It's so slow!"
He boggled at her for a second. I boggled at her for a second.
Finally I said to Wiseguy, "You have to realize, she's a pickup artist of hypnotists. You're experiencing her game."
Luckily he laughed, and of course dropped her swiftly with a handshake. Then later, invited us to tag along to dinner! Amazing southern-style BBQ, slopped onto paper placemats.
It meant a lot to be able to chat and ask lots of questions, since Wiseguy and Dani were the first example I'd ever seen of a long term hypnotic couple, years ago at a Mind Play launch event in Massachussetts. So much about how they interacted stuck with me, especially how post-hypnotic triggers could deepen with years of reinforcement, and be a natural and daily part of a relationship. We also talked about building community, something Wiseguy has been central to all along.
I'm so glad I made it to the hotel pool, a Sunday night tradition, and (eventually) to the Dunkin' Donuts breakfast on Monday. We got to spend more time with CalamityBrain on the way back to the over-the-top Cambridge B&B I booked (oh the floral wallpaper! Sat and forever am at work here! Gilmore Girls fans, anyone?), but not before sampling the very American delights of a Hartford Buffalo Wild Wings.
Then there was more wonderful time with just me and khatsha, a few days in Boston and London heavily emphasizing the sins of Lust, Gluttony and Sloth. Again, some of the best memories are the simplest, like showing her Labyrinth on a laptop in Logan Airport, watching her eyes get bigger and bigger at certain scenes. Many of my readers can guess which ones. (by the way I asked, "So did you identify with Sarah?" She said, "Actually, with Sir Didymus!")
Part of why this took so long to finish is that I've been trying to come up with some conclusion that goes deeper than, "yay NEEHU!" and "yay having a partner!"
About the latter: even though every year has been life-changingly amazing, if you read between the lines of my previous NEEHU posts I certainly had my moments of wallflowerism, and tended to retire early - one night I got invited to a suite party, knocked on the door, and had someone say, "we're busy in here!" and close it in my face. I went back to my room and consoled myself with Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt using my old roommates Netflix password. Later that night, my roommate got lucky. So, this year was a lot better. (I got lucky! With khatsha!)
But it was also a reinforcement to me to not be afraid to make big plans, and have big hopes: just because I look forward to something for months, doesn't mean it won't happen, and be fucking awesome. (and worrying about something like getting a cold won't stop it, but it also doesn't have to ruin things) Don't lower your expectations. And work to make these hopes come true: setting up all those planes and rides and six different hotel rooms was so intimidating - not to mention betting a lot on a relatively new relationship - but we did it, and we got the reward.
And in just weeks I'm heading back to North America. This is just the beginning.
Thursday, March 3, 2016
I'm Changing My Major to Kink
Oh my god last night. Oh my god, ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod last night...I've lost my virginity three times: Once when a woman touched me, with intent, for the first time (my first intercourse, only a week or two later, is almost an afterthought in my memory); once when I pinned a submissive girlfriend to the carpet and first saw that look in her eyes; and once when I hypnotized someone for the first time. After each one, the world changed.
(in case that video link is broken, search for "fun home changing my major")
I don't know who I am / I've become someone new.
Nothing I just did, is anything I would do.I just paid a huge amount of money, took two weeks of vacation time, and spent hours arranging flights, rides and hotels, so that I can go to the New England Hypnosis Unconference (and the London Hypnosis Workshop). I'm leaving Italy, to spend a little time in urban Connecticut in March! I'm leaving tomorrow.
There's a big part of me, maybe it's my respectable canadian protestant side, that is very uncomfortable with making all this effort and sacrifice for hedonism.
Which is what this is. I could say it's to be with community and friends, which it is - the North American hypno community is amazing, and some of my favourite people will be there, people I can't wait to see and hug after a whole year away - and I could say it's about learning and growing, which it is - if I could somehow split myself into four, I could attend something like 80 hours of classes about erotic hypnosis, not to mention insane opportunities to see most of the best erotic hypnotists at work, and to try out every technique and hypothesis I've ever heard of.
But really it's about sex.
I’m changing my major to sex with Joan, / With a minor in kissing Joan.
Foreign studies to Joan's inner thighs. / A seminar on Joan’s ass in her Levi’s...The chance to have lots of hot, weird hypnotic sex. Which can be all kinds of things - not necessarily involving touch. For me, anything from a sexy induction, to hypnotically-enhanced intercourse. It's all sex. And I'm going to have it with my partner khatsha, in many locations and novel modes, and with lots of other people too.
But I'm in my mid 30s. All my friends have babies and houses. How can I justify putting so much emphasis on sex?
All I can say to answer that is that sex is important. And I'm about to compare being kinky to being gay, but only in one specific way: without a culturally-approved script to follow, about the proper ways to have and enjoy sex, the discovery of sex can turn your life upside down.
Because you turn it upside down yourself, on purpose.
What I've been quoting is the song "Changing my Major to Joan", from the musical Fun Home. It's the writers' interpretation of the author Alison Bechdel at age 17, the morning after her first lesbian experience. She was a cripplingly bookish Pennsylvian teen, who was ultra sophisticated in some ways but didn't know anything about her body or her sexuality. (in fact she discovered she was gay by reading a book). But sex and love with women immediately rewrote her life and art: as she says, "I exploded out of the closet." She started spending all her free time on campus activism and LGBT community, and then decades writing and drawing a comic strip called "Dykes to Watch Out For". (which I love)
When it takes this much effort to have the kind of sex you want, even to figure out that's what you want, you better believe it goes right to the middle of your identity.
Overnight everything changed / I am not prepared
I'm dizzy, I'm nauseous, I'm shaky / I'm scared
Am I falling into nothingness / Or flying into something so sublime?Another person who turned his life upside down for sex is the english writer Christopher Isherwood. I just finished reading his memoir "Christopher and his Kind". Immediately before that I read "Berlin Stories", about his time in Berlin in the 1930s, which was made into a stage play, a movie, a broadway musical (Cabaret) and a movie of that musical.
But why did he move to Berlin and start learning German at the age of 24, rather than settling into a profession like most of his peers? The first book is foggy about that, whereas the second memoir, written 40 years later, is crystal clear: "To Christopher, Berlin meant Boys."
He was encouraged to go by W.H. Auden, who was also there to have lots of sex with hot working class Germans: "I can still make myself faintly feel the delicious nausea of initiation terror which Christopher felt as Wystan pushed back the heavy leather door curtain of a boy bar called the Cosy Corner and led the way inside."
He talked a bit about reading a passage by rogue psychotherapist John Layard that inspired him to change his life so much, and not just accept himself as gay but to really go for it:
When Christopher heard [that passage], he was even more excited than Wystan had been, for they justified a change in his own life which he had been longing but not quite daring to make. Now he burned to put them into practice, to unchain his desires and hurl reason and sanity into prison.
The rest of the book goes into satisfying detail about the romances and large amount of fucking he did in Berlin - none of which can be found in Berlin Stories. And by the way, if you think the modern kink or queer community invented power-exchange sex games (including switching), default polyamory and polyfuckery, and rough bodyplay, you should read this book! He was into all three in 1930!
This rough athletic sexmaking was excellent isometric exercise. It strengthened Christopher’s muscles more than all his years of joyless compulsory games at school.
As a digression, another thing I related to my experience joining the hypno-kink community was his first encounter with gay culture out in the open, on his visit to Dr. Magnus Hirschfeld’s Institut fuer Sexual-Wissenschaft—Institute for Sexual Science - which was destroyed by the Nazis only a few years later:
Christopher giggled because he was embarrassed. He was embarrassed because, at last, he was being brought face to face with his tribe.
...
Up to now, he had behaved as though the tribe didn’t exist and homosexuality were a private way of life discovered by himself and a few friends. He had always known, of course, that this wasn’t true. But now he was forced to admit kinship with these freakish fellow tribesmen and their distasteful customs. And he didn’t like it.
This feeling passes, and he lived the rest of his life in that community and dedicated himself to its growth.
So this is something that gives me strength, artists I admire who spent a lot of their time and energy thinking about, pursuing, and having, nasty sex: Isherwood, James Joyce, Henry Miller, Anais Nin, Samuel R. Delaney, Nicholson Baker. Obviously lots more!
But there's that voice in my head, doesn't chasing desire taint you, waste you away, lead you to destruction? Christopher Isherwood died in his 80s as a highly acclaimed writer and bon vivant, in a multi-decade relationship so famous and inspiring there's a documentary about it, "Chris and Don", while Alison Bechdel is 55 and super awesome, with both a MacArthur "Genius" award and a Tony award forever tied to her name. But those people were artists. Are we kinksters the grasshoppers in the story of the ant and the grasshopper?
People put sex to the side completely in service of other priorities, and for many it works, at least most of the time. (I am not talking about asexual people in this bit of course.) But I think there's always a cost to it. It can cause major problems, sometimes years down the road.
Christopher Isherwood writes about how even in his sophisticated circles, many gay men accepted the mainstream theory that the sex they were having was an "immature phase", and went ahead and married women. They bragged about being grown up now. Just guessing, but I'll bet the marriages he's thinking of caused a lot of misery to everyone, and then exploded - I mean if they were lucky.
In Fun Home, we learn that Alison's father, who was gay and closeted, never had that awakening, never really got to have the kind of sex that changed Alison and Christopher's life - intimate, abundant, not contrary to his public life. So instead it came out in many destructive ways, and probably contributed to his dark depression.
On a more positive note, I think of all those posts I've read on Fetlife from women in their 40s and 50s discovering, after decades of marriage, that they are kinky, always were kinky, and are now far more interested in casual sex and being dominated, whipped, tied up, and/or hypnotized, than in still being married. I see them having a blast! (of course there are lots of men on fetlife who have the same story! But for men there aren't quite as many societal messages to defeat, about what you're supposed to want out of life.)
Will you stay here with me for the rest of the semester? We won’t need any food. We’ll live on sex alone. Sex with Joan!I'm especially thinking about this, because I invited khatsha to travel across the Atlantic with me to NEEHU, and she's someone who turned her life upside-down for hypnokink even more than me. And I was her first contact with it. (though as with me, her hypnofetish runs deep) A part of me is saying, my god. What am I responsible for?
But I can point to lots of wonderful things that have come from my kink (meeting her not being a small one). Wanting to have hypnotic sex has pushed me way, way out of my comfort zone: walking into a sex club in Milan with leather pants and no shirt is not something many people in my nonkink life can imagine me doing, or teaching a crowd of people in a Swiss rope bondage dojo. As someone who defaults to cautious and timid, it's a tremendous gift to be driven to do adventurous things by my cock. Kink has brought me in contact with so many different types of people with many different lives and identities that my narrow, upper-middle class academic track (for all its internationality) would have isolated me from. And I love the fact that erotic hypnosis connects to literature, poetry, spirituality, the body, experimental psychology, science fiction, computer science, feminism, public speaking... (I can go on, and will given the slightest opening!)
There I go, falling into the trap of needing to justify it as worthy! As a means to an end. But pleasure should be an end in itself - if there's one thing I should be learning in Italy, it's that! (oh man the cities, the countryside, the meals, the wine, the coffee...I'm getting all these gifts dropped on my head...)
Is chasing pleasure and desire a good foundation for a life? I don't know! I do know it's better than a lot of others, anyway! Most important for me, it's a better foundation than fear. It's running towards something, not running away from something. Do you become an artist, at least a little tiny bit, when you commit yourself so much to something positive like this? When you try to eat and breathe it? This feels like it will repay that, like it's about growth, creativity, connection. Also boners.
Who needs dignity? / Cause this is so much better...Opening yourself up to desire and passion takes courage. Makes you silly and vulnerable, like Alison in her underpants. My friend has a line about how much safer it is just to fantasize alone in the dark - besides the obvious risks of going out and doing things, you also risk having your cherished masturbation fantasies touched by disappointment, embarassment, sadness, all the complications that come with doing things with real people, in the real world.
The upside? Having my wildest dreams come true.
And so I have no trouble committing to this. I'm in it. Long term.
I must say that I'm changing my major to kink.
Tuesday, January 19, 2016
"Um...Can You Turn It Off?"
I gave her a quick post hypnotic suggestion, that she
would become aware of wherever her clothes were touching her body, and
that it would feel like little sensual caresses, every time the fabric
brushed her, however lightly. I woke her up and then sat back and
watched her squirm. I pointed out different parts of her clothing she
might be noticing on her skin, such as her bra and panties.
After a few minutes, I started to chat with her about the next thing we would be doing, and she hesitated and went,
"Um, could you please turn it off?"
The clothing suggestion was distracting her too much to focus on what I was saying. This is an absolutely delicious moment for me. (I turned it off right then by the way; I'm not a dick, unless we're having a scene where I'm a dick) Whenever this happens, or my partner is obviously startled by a suggestion taking effect, or I'm surprised by an odd emergent consequence of a suggestion, it soothes the little part of me that still wonders, "is hypnosis real? Or is this all just pretend?"
Because none of those things would happen if she was just playing a role to try to please me. And while I don't think it's important anymore to draw a line between roleplaying hypnosis and "actually" being in a trance (after all, one recommended way to get into your first trance is to act as if you're going into trance), it's the eerie and surprising moments, the moments that let me know it's still going on even when I'm not looking, that make it both real and magic.
So it was scary to me when I was walking down the street and saying to her, "I mean, you can't hypnotize people with a sarcastic tone of voice - you can't just go 'hey, why don't you go into a trance NOW' snap" and saw my partner stagger and almost fall on the sidewalk, and I resolved not to let that happen again, but it was also thrilling. Neither of us wanted that to happen, but it still did. Hypnosis has an impact. Which also means you have to take care.
Actually this thing I mentioned up top, a request to please cut it out with an ongoing suggestion, happened twice during my latest session: the other time being when I transformed this Swiss girl's Gruyère into American processed cheese, just as it went into her mouth. And I made it stop - I might be a sadist, but I'm not a monster.
After a few minutes, I started to chat with her about the next thing we would be doing, and she hesitated and went,
"Um, could you please turn it off?"
The clothing suggestion was distracting her too much to focus on what I was saying. This is an absolutely delicious moment for me. (I turned it off right then by the way; I'm not a dick, unless we're having a scene where I'm a dick) Whenever this happens, or my partner is obviously startled by a suggestion taking effect, or I'm surprised by an odd emergent consequence of a suggestion, it soothes the little part of me that still wonders, "is hypnosis real? Or is this all just pretend?"
Because none of those things would happen if she was just playing a role to try to please me. And while I don't think it's important anymore to draw a line between roleplaying hypnosis and "actually" being in a trance (after all, one recommended way to get into your first trance is to act as if you're going into trance), it's the eerie and surprising moments, the moments that let me know it's still going on even when I'm not looking, that make it both real and magic.
So it was scary to me when I was walking down the street and saying to her, "I mean, you can't hypnotize people with a sarcastic tone of voice - you can't just go 'hey, why don't you go into a trance NOW' snap" and saw my partner stagger and almost fall on the sidewalk, and I resolved not to let that happen again, but it was also thrilling. Neither of us wanted that to happen, but it still did. Hypnosis has an impact. Which also means you have to take care.
Actually this thing I mentioned up top, a request to please cut it out with an ongoing suggestion, happened twice during my latest session: the other time being when I transformed this Swiss girl's Gruyère into American processed cheese, just as it went into her mouth. And I made it stop - I might be a sadist, but I'm not a monster.
Sunday, December 27, 2015
Memorizing 40 Digits of Pi with Memory Palaces, Synaesthesia, Hypnosis, and Sex
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!
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!
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.
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