I just put @khatsha to bed after our first christmas dinner
together and my heart is very full. (just as my stomach is full with bad
delivery Chinese food) Just now she said, “that was pretty crazy right?
Getting married without ever having lived together?” And I said “Yeah!”
We both took an enormous risk, her even more than me in her move across
the Atlantic, to be together.
And yet I never felt serious
doubt. And I don’t think she did either. And today, my day off in
Boston, played out just how I hoped and imagined such days: the hours of
intimate conversation, the cuddling, the partnership in making plans
(”later on, we’ll conspire / as we dream by the fire”), the making fun
of mullets in the Band Aid video, and the hot spontaneous hypnosis and
D/s scenes.
In the meadow we can build a snowman
And pretend that he is Parson Brown
He’ll say are you married, we’ll say no man
But you can do the job when you’re in town
I
hate the censored version of Winter Wonderland - what, are we afraid
the little kids are going to have sex after they play marriage? - and am
shocked and dismayed that Annie Lennox chose to sing it. Like why is
changing it to “a circus clown” less threatening? And what child refers
to other children as “kiddies” - a word exclusively used by grownups
that hate children?
But I also actively like the original verse,
the ambiguous time distortion of it: playing wedding in the meadow, and
then one day looking around and noticing you’re married for real. That’s
a little what this feels like, like a game of “let’s pretend” that just
keeps going, with the best possible playmate.
Because we get to
make it up. Marriage gets very very serious at times, and sometimes I
get vertigo realizing what the stakes are, but it’s overwhelmed by the
freedom of building something together like we want. Because the plans
that we made don’t end at living together: they are also about building
our adult lives, and even more specifically Boston hypnosis community,
and so many good things are already happening in both departments.
This
is already too long of a late night Kwak-fuelled ramble. But I’m just
so pleased and grateful. Merry early christmas to all christmas
celebrators, and I love you @khatsha.
“My cock is coated with a sweet, delicious substance - it tastes a
lot like coffee cream - that replenishes itself as you lick it,
especially around the tip, and makes you want to lap it up more and
more.
The coating also contains a drug. The more you consume, the
more this drug will make you heavy and sleepy, with warm relaxed
muscles. Ready for bedtime and ready to sleep for real.”
For a
while she had her usual enthusiastic head-bobbing up and down on my
cock. Then she slowed down, became very deliberate. But still regular.
After a while she propped herself up on her elbow.
Her head sunk down
until it reached the bed.
I snapped.
“Wide awake, energized and caffeinated. How are you?”
“…Good! Fuzzy.”
“Are you actually ready for bed, and is it ok with you if I put you to sleep tonight that way?”
“Yes!”
“Ok, then the coffee cream is back…” *snap*
And then I used her blowjob compulsion trigger.
This
time when her head drifted onto the pillow, face getting nice and
relaxed, I helped her out. I wrapped my hand in her hair and fucked her
mouth, knowing that each time I went into her mouth her half-asleep mind
would taste the drug and each time she would be pushed closer to sleep.
Even
as her head lay on the pillow, her mouth had some muscle tone at first,
letting me feel the friction. Then her mouth went slack.
I pulled
all the way out. “That’s ok. It’s sleepy time, ready to let go
completely and go to sleep for the night, only waking up in the morning
or if there’s something you need to attend to during the night.”
Her breathing became slow and regular. And I stroked her hair and nestled in beside her, to begin to drift away myself.
khatsha and I were the organizers of the hypnosis lounge at the Fetish Fair Fleamarket 50. Based on very disturbingaccounts
of the NELA board’s handling of a presenter accused of consent
violations and his accusers, we don’t believe that the organization has
the credibility at this point to effectively protect attendees or deal
with consent issues that may arise. Therefore we just sent an email
saying that we will not volunteer at or attend the Flea.
Update: The entire board has now resigned, and a transitional board consisting of veterans including my favourite erotica writer Cecilia Tan is now in charge. This is great news. We'll see what happens, but if they are interested in having a hypnosis lounge at this year's Flea, katsha and I are very willing to run it.
Another update: We have heard from the new organizers and we will be
running a hypnosis lounge at the Flea! Hope you come to visit, even if
you're only a little bit curious.
Minutes after I reblogged @ellaenchanting's great critical roundup about NLP on Tumblr, a stranger started messaging me on there:
So many thoughts are running through my mind! Like that was quite the plot twist at the end! But also his initial messages really reminded me of something…
There’s a certain type of dude who, when there’s a lot of conversation about consent and consent violations, gets really really pretend scared. “I’m so scared!” they say “In the current climate, if I open a door for a woman, she could accuse me of harassment! I’m afraid to say anything! I’m deprived of oxygen, for political correctness has truly boxed me in!”
Here’s my message to them and to all of us men: you should be afraid.
Why did Louis CK, Weinstein, Spacey, Tambor, Rattner, Toback, and all the others soon to be named do all those sexual assaults? Because they were not afraid. They judged that their power, fame, wealth and sheer old-white-manhood, would protect them.
And they were totally right!
For YEARS there were no consequences. They kept making movies and tv shows, and kept assaulting people!
And now the checks are all coming. Brave women and men have told their stories in numbers powerful enough to finally convince all but the biggest assholes. These famous careers are getting blown apart in front of our eyes, hopefully permanently (although white manhood has historically carried with it an astonishing amount of second chances)
And let’s hope the message filters down into everybody’s day to day lives. This shit is not going to stand any more.
Although crippling social anxiety is a bad thing, fear and wariness are your friend when it comes to not assaulting people.
Most importantly it should motivate you to learn. Learn about women’s experience of assault and how it doesn’t necessarily look like how you expect (for example, many people freeze up). Learn explicit consent and get fucking good at it. Learn how explicit consent isn’t enough: learn about structures of power and how they can let you mask even to yourself how little someone is free to say no. Learn to err on the side of not assaulting.
And know, deep down, if you prey on people, eventually your house will fall down.
And because of these serial predators, and how it’s never just one victim, young women and other vulnerable groups are talking amongst themselves and getting less and less tolerant of behaviour that has that flavour - the assault-adjacent, mild creeping and sexism that used to be considered the cost of admission if you are a woman. The bar is moving for what constitutes a fuckup, in a way that is no long controlled by older white men.
And if you fuck up, in a way that is not clearly a one time thing, you will get shitcanned. You will get kicked out of the community and have no access to kink. And this will happen to me if I get sloppy and inattentive about consent or start treating people like things, and it will happen to you. This is how it should work.
"SLEEP. That's right, nice and deep, all the way down, just like that. Relax and open your mind to receive new programming.
Have you ever walked into a room with the intention of doing something, and then you can't remember what it was? That feeling like having a word right on the tip of your tongue, except instead of a word it's something you were just about to do, but you were interrupted right before you could do it?
Just for the next little while, just until you leave this room, whenever I say the words, 'What was it?' you're going to have that same feeling - that searching, frustrated feeling, like there was something you were about to do, something you wanted to do, something you decided to do, but you can't quite remember what it was. And the more time passes, the more frustrating that feeling gets. Until I suggest the thing that you were about to do, and you'll have that wonderful, beautiful feeling of relief flooding your body and your mind as you realize, that's it, that's the thing I was about to do, that I wanted to do, that I decided to do, I just forgot. And you will rush to do that thing you were about to do just before you were interrupted.
And that will happen each and every time I say the words 'What was it?'
Let that sink in fully as you rise up, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Hi."
"Hi."
She looked up at him, both sitting cross-legged on the bed.
"How do you feel?"
"...Good. Fuzzy."
"I guess I brought you up pretty fast. But you feel nice and energized now, ready to do stuff."
"Yeah."
"Which is good because you were just about to do something before I so rudely dropped you. What was it?"
Her eyes widened, and she frowned.
"I was? Yes... there was something..."
Her eyes flitted around the room, and she squirmed on the bed.
"I'm sure there was something you wanted to do right before. You can't remember?"
"No... but... what..."
"I know, you were going to make out with me."
Her brow cleared, and a big smile crossed her face.
"Yes!!"
And she leaned in and started making out with him.
"Mmmm, yes, but there was something else you were going to do. Mmm. What was it?"
"There was?"
She leaned back and looked troubled.
"You were going to sing me I'm A Little Teapot, with all the gestures!"
"That's it! That's what I was going to do!"
She sang the song, complete with all the gestures.
"I remember now," she said, "I wanted to sing it to you because I thought maybe Canadians didn't hear that song growing up."
"Well you did a very lovely version. Thank you for teaching me that. But there was something else. What was it?"
"There was? There was."
"You were going to kneel down and kiss my feet."
"I was?"
"That's what you were about to do."
"I told you that?"
"Well no, but I could tell that's what you wanted to do."
"It doesn't seem like something I would do, but I do feel this urge to kneel down and kiss your feet!"
"Don't you remember? It's what you were about to do, what you wanted to do, what you already decided to do. I say just go with your gut."
And then she did. She knelt down on the bed and kissed his feet. Tentatively at first, and then with relish.
"Now doesn't that feel better? You shouldn't fight your instincts. Come on back up here."
And they lay on the bed and made out.
"Oh, I just saw something cross your mind that you wanted to do, but you got distracted. What was it? You wanted to fondle my crotch!"
And she did.
"What a relief! Doesn't it feel great to remember what it is you were about to do, and not be stuck in that frustrating state, trying to figure it out?"
"Mmmhmmm. But you're doing something. You're making me want to do something and then forget it. Right?"
"Nope, that's not it at all. But I think you're too fractionated to understand, even if I was going to tell you. Speaking of which, there was something hypnosis-wise you were about to do, wasn't there? What was it?"
This time she whined a little.
"You were about to fall into a deep hypnotic trance!"
Her eyes slammed shut, and she lay there peacefully.
"And WAKE UP."
She blinked and looked around.
"So forgetful today! Good thing I'm here to help. Hey, remember that conversation we had earlier? About how you fantasize about handing over the keys to your mind, and letting someone else drive for a while, just giving up all control?"
"Yeah?"
"Just now you told me you were about to do something about that. What was it?"
He let it build until she was rolling back and forth and pulling on her hair. "Mmph! Why can't I! Ugggh..."
"You were about to hand me the keys to your mind! That is, give me complete control over your body and mind. You were going to mime it."
She had relaxed, but there was still a little frown. "Mime it?"
"Yes, pretend to put the keys into my hand. I thought that seemed a bit silly, but that's what you were about to do!"
@Minutiae wrote a piece called More rape sandwich which excellently draws a consent metaphor out of a Subway sandwich artist who sneaks onions into your sandwich, which you’re allergic to, after you specifically asked them not to.
But people in the erotic hypnosis community know that there’s an innocent explanation for what happened: in fact what you didn’t understand is that the sandwich artist was trained in NSC (Neuropsychoactive Sandwich Communication). For them, slipping in a few onions is simply part of how they express themselves. They can’t turn it off.
Plus, were they hiding it? Anyone with the slightest knowledge of NSC could have spotted those onions in there. Really, the important thing is to get those people weak enough to be allergic trained in self defence, in detecting and neutralizing onions, so they can easily raise their “onion shields” whenever they walk into a Subway.
Besides, if the sandwich artist had really been using NSC, you would never have detected those onions.
Wait, the sandwich artist only did that to four people with onion allergies? That Subway must have served 17,000 people last week! I haven’t heard a peep out of them. Are we going to let just four people - or 0.002% - turn this into a witchhunt?
Anyway, what’s with the big outcry? Give me a break. You know how many people and corporations try to give you onions every day? Ever since we first learned to make primitive sandwiches? What, you’re going to ban mustard and mayonnaise and lettuce too? Why should we jump all over someone simply for doing what those large, shitty, corporations, and sleazy, manipulative people do all the time, that is, not listening to your wishes or respecting your agency and forcing something down your throat that makes you feel bad?
I did this at a party recently and I thought it was genius, so I want
to share it around. It’s like regular spin-the-bottle, where you go
around the circle and spin a bottle in the center, except:
When
the bottle points to you, you have to offer three options of things you
are willing to do with/for the spinner, for them to choose one
At least one has to be nonsexual and vanilla (e.g. sing a Disney song, make up a secret handshake together)
A
nice touch was letting people know they can definitely reuse options
other people proposed, so there’s not too much pressure to be creative.
I
bet there’s still things that can go wrong with this consent-wise, but
it is SO much better thought out than regular spin the bottle, or truth
or dare or whatever. What’s particularly smart is that if you don’t want
to do anything sexy or flirtatious with the person the bottle points
to, the other option is usually fun and funny, so it’s a good cover. You
can be like, “I so would like to take you up on your offer of a makeout
sesh, but I’m simply too attracted by the possibility of a Top
Gun-style high five!”
The other important part is that it starts
sexy things happening at the party, and breaks the ice between people,
as well as letting people communicate their interests. It worked great
at this party - the options got a lot racier than kissing pretty quick!
No matter how much you've thought and read about consent
and negotiation, there's still a lot of intuition involved in asking the
right questions to a new partner. The right question at the right time
is critical, but it takes experience, or rather experiences, of many
different people, to do this well.
I always wrap up my negotiation with something like, "Is there
anything else we should talk about?" or "Is there anything else I should
know?" But people often don't know themelves what might be a problem
for them. I also don't think consent checklists are a solution, for various reasons.
Without the scenes and people I've been involved with, observed, and
read about, I probably wouldn't know these things about people that are
needed to ask good questions:
Some people don't like to be hugged, or any touching whatsoever.
Some people have a fear of drowning that makes water imagery a bad idea.
Some people have a fear of heights that makes floating imagery a bad idea.
Also some people don't like elevators because of claustrophia. And at least one person out there has a phobia of escalators.
Some people want hypnosis without D/s - any dominating or controlling language bothers them.
Some people are ok with sneaky hypnosis and playful triggers in
private, but are bothered if it happens in front of other people (which
usually adds at least a little humiliation).
Some people are ok with triggers that third parties can use, while some people are not.
Some people have physical problems, eg in their neck, shoulders, or
knees, that make certain common hypnotic devices, like hand floating,
difficult to sustain or start.
Some people have struggles with their memory, or with people calling
them dumb, that makes amnesia or intelligence play unpleasant.
Some people have nerve issues so that language about tingling bothers them.
Some people get floppy when they go into trance, and could potentially fall or give you their weight in a dangerous way.
People mean different things when they agree to a sexual hypnosis
scene: some people want only induced pleasure and arousal; some people
are into imagery of having sex with you; and some people are into sexual
touch as well. You have to ask.
Some people are significantly altered in their judgment after even one trance, and shouldn't ever negotiate after that.
You can't tell someone's correct pronouns from the way they look, or their name.
Some transgender people are bothered by references to their genitals if they experience them as not matching their gender.
Many people have been sexually assaulted, and this can make for
obstacles that need to be carefully navigated, including ones they don't
know about.
Many people have a complicated relationship with their own orgasms,
including partners pressuring them to have them or have them faster, and
language that presupposes they will have an orgasm at a certain time
can create anxiety. (related blog entry: Don't Pressure People to Have Hypnotic Orgasms)
Some people have non-intuitive limitations in their polyamorous relationships that need to be respected.
I bet a lot of the things on this list seem obvious to you. That's
because of your experience! I guarantee for each of these there's
someone out there who didn't know, and screwed it up. Often, me.
My point is not that you shouldn't ever start doing hypnosis, or that
I've learned everything that I need to know. In fact my point is:
We're all beginners. In a few years this list of
mine will be twice as long, and whenever we play with a new partner, or
even an old partner, we are beginners: there's so much to learn about
how to navigate consent with that person. Respect human variation, and
get ready to be surprised.
and also:
It's ok to not ask the right questions. The most
important consent skill is recovery from mishaps, and learning from
them. I think that for well-intentioned, well-educated kinksters, things
tend to only really go bad because of two inner self images.
First, "Dom Draper": the idea of dominant as suave, smooth,
and omniscient, knowing exactly where your for-real limits are so you
can be pushed right up to them, making every scene flow in a perfectly
controlled way - just like in porn!
Second, the "Safe Player": the one who is so invested in
their image to themselves, and maybe the community, as being safe and
consent aware that they can't admit that they just fucked up.
Unlike mistakes from simple ignorance, these can actually get worse
with years in the scene - and besides making you more dangerous, in fact
prevent you from learning from experience. I want to take those harmful self-images in me out back and bury them.
What's important is to stay engaged with your partner, and be aware
that screwups are always a possibility. And that's ok. You just have to:
Notice something went wrong (or listen when they tell you that)
Ask them about it
Apologize if appropriate
Remember it for next time
Recovery, not perfection, and getting better all the time.
I
would love to have the superpower of seeing anyone’s late night porn
search keywords. Is there any time when we’re more honest about what we
really desire?
For me, 99% of the time “hypno” would be in there, but “glasses” is also a keyword I have searched. Glasses are really hot.
What’s relevant to my fetish?
They’re stylish.
They suit her face and personality.
She needs them.
Oh
yes, 3: there’s plenty of glasses porn out there, but it actually bums
me out if I see that the lens aren’t refractive! (even more so if the
same pair is being used by models in different videos!) I demand myopia!
Or, failing that, presbyopia! Is it that the hint of helplessness is
cute?
This is all just an excuse for me to perv, so let it begin! In vaguely chronological order! Jeanine Melnitz
Goddamn
this 80s lady has pizazz. I just know she goes dancing, and has a great
dating life totally separate from her work, as well as lots of buddies
in the 80s NYC avant garde art scene. Jet Girl
Soulful and badass! She needs another movie. Lisa Loeb
Yeah a lot of us there in the 90s were activated by this video. Scully
*Gulp*
Let’s keep moving. Tina Fey
Super
obvious but essential. Her looks are very nice, but her big, hard
joke-brain is the sexiest thing. I’ve read her book 28 times at least -
literally no one cares more about making the perfect joke than she does. 10 years later, subtly different glasses, still rocking it hard. Hope Davis as Joyce Brabner (American Splendor)
Pretty much my sexual ideal. Achingly smart and passionate. I can watch their first date scenes over and over. Felicia Day
Ok, yes, but I feel manipulated. Stiiiiill does it. Zooey Deschanel
Ugh, I hate me. You can probably tell exactly my age from this crush. Edna Mode
Passionate! Daring in her style choices! These are some sexy pixels. She has some stories to tell from the 70s. Daniel from Stargate
I’m straight but I’m not narrow.
A
lot of these glasses are 90s-style thin wire frames, I’m noticing. Is
this nostalgia, or is the wave of revival coming, such that they are
starting to look good again for real? Daniel from Stargate
As a teenager I literally took this picture to my barber.
It was still the 90s! Mr. Peabody
Oh, hello.
Here’s an irony: 10 years ago I had laser eye surgery. Primarily for cosmetic reasons. And I don’t regret it!
And
yet! You will be sexier to me if you wear glasses. Taking them off for
sex makes you look even more naked, and possibly vulnerable. But leaving
them on is even better.
I think all explanations of fetishes
are a lie. Usually it’s just there. But I’m sure my glasses fetish has
something to do with me projecting combined qualities of braininess and
stylishness. Women with a rich specific inner life - who I could talk
about books with - but who have also put a few XP into aesthetics and
their feminine mystique.
My new wife is all those things, and she
wears huge, super stylish glasses, like a fashion designer or a famous
writer. They’re so vivid that when she takes them off it’s almost like
her eyes go with them, like a cartoon character. So basically she makes
me ridiculously happy, and horny all the time.
And you should be with me! This ring on my finger says so.
For
six hours there’s not that brilliant, hilarious, caring, responsive
presence of yours reaching out through my phone, tempting me all day at
work. That mind that I first fell for: sexting on the top of a mountain
in Italy, chuckling and getting hard. Instead, it’s silent.
No one said it would get so much more nagging, aching after the big date. These six hours.
Shit got real, but I’m not frightened of it. It’s more exciting than anything I’ve known before. I want this so much.
It
hurts every day, but the anticipation is so sweet. Every domestic
thought fills me with longing: coming home to you, bustling in the
kitchen, going to bed, planning and scheming our life together, having
the most intimate trance. Games and rituals and private jokes. Helping
you blossom into your new life and seeing it unfold in the most
delightful and unexpected ways.
It can’t really be that sweet
all the time can it? Won’t I get used to it? Won’t little things start
to intrude, to make it more of a mixture, more like the lumpiness of
real life, with its highs and lows?
But I believe in a
satellite-laser-blast of happiness, that we will be bathed in it, even
if it doesn’t stay as pure and simple for long. I believe it’s coming.
We are due it.
Less than eight weeks. I should savour this
time - the solitude, the flexibility, even the longing. It will be over
soon enough.
And you should be with me! This ring on my finger says so.
For
six hours there’s not that brilliant, hilarious, caring, responsive
presence of yours reaching out through my phone, tempting me all day at
work. That mind that I first fell for through the phone: sexting on the top of a mountain
in Italy, me chuckling and getting hard. Instead, it’s silent.
No one said it would get so much more nagging, aching after the big date. These six hours.
Shit got real, but I’m not frightened of it. It’s more exciting than anything I’ve known before. I want this so much.
It
hurts every day, but the anticipation is so sweet. Every domestic
thought fills me with longing: coming home to you, bustling in the
kitchen, going to bed, planning and scheming our life together, having
the most intimate trance. Games and rituals and private jokes. Helping
you blossom into your new life and seeing it unfold in the most
delightful and unexpected ways.
It can’t really be that sweet
all the time can it? Won’t I get used to it? Won’t little things start
to intrude, to make it more of a mixture, more like the lumpiness of
real life, with its highs and lows?
But I believe in a
satellite-laser-blast of happiness, that we will be bathed in it, even
if it doesn’t stay as pure and simple for long. I believe it’s coming.
We are due it.
Less than eight weeks. I should savour this
time - the solitude, the flexibility, even the longing. It will be over
soon enough.
I have been to 4 NEEHUs, 1 Entranced, 1 Charmed, a Deepmind Darkwood,
3 Fetish Fleamarkets, 2 London Hypnosis workshops, and a number of
one-off hypno things in Europe. (I bet my colleagues at work would be
surprised to hear this!). Most of them I went to unpartnered, all as a
shy introvert.
I’m not good at going to hypnocons. But I’m better than I was. So
here are my tips, customized for me and people like me. So not stuff
that I hope came naturally to me, like “be polite and don’t treat people
like objects”, and also not stuff that is literally impossible for me,
like “don’t compare yourself to other people.” But maybe you need to be
told a whole different set of things. Also, I don’t necessarily have
great insight into what I’m doing right, or what I’m doing wrong. But I
hope these help anyway!
Emotional and physiological chaos is normal.
FOMO,
envy, social anxiety, jealousy, disappointment, having to see exes,
having to see people who creeped on you. If you think everyone else is
having a perfect time and you’re the only one in distress, you are very
wrong. Also, they will lie about it, by omission, in their blog posts
afterwards (I do!) so for god’s sake don’t compare yourself to that.
Physiologically, I’ve caught a cold for so many of these cons, and sleep
deprivation, travel stress, sugar crashes and other things will give
your body a nonsexy pounding. And folks with disabilities or chronic
illnesses have even more to deal with. There’s no way to avoid some
chaos,
so just know that you can make wonderful memories in the midst of chaos!
ALL IS NOT LOST. And take it easy on people, eh?
There’s a role for the new person. The hypno
community is incredibly cliquey. It’s a natural consequence of hypno
being a very rare kink, and one that requires a huge amount of trust. It
takes years to build that trust. So be patient with yourself. If you do
any pickup play with new people at all on your first con - and you’re
not a young woman - you’re doing very well. But if you’re positive,
genuinely interested in people, and obviously eager to learn, people
will be extremely kind.
Learning to ask while not being gross is everything. There are many, many great guides to this online,
as well as cautionary tales about what not to do, so all I’ll say here
is look at it all as practice; be as bold as you are respectful; amazing
things can happen just by asking in the right place at the right time;
and as the great wristbands at Charmed said, “Ask first. Respect the
answer.”
The greatness of your con is decided long before you hit the registration desk.
The upside to my pitiful addiction to hypnotumblr is that I could put
faces to tumblr names at the con. “Ah yes! I have enjoyed your
pornography! And your curation of animated gif pornography!” This time
was very aware that most people - flying in from everywhere from
Vancouver Island to Manchester, England - are beginning and maintaining
their relationships online between cons. At the moment the thing is
Skype, Dischord and Snapchat groups, in addition to tumblr and fetlife.
You don’t actually have to do any of that, but it helps – see,
cliquyness, trust. And preparation in general: I half-assed Charmed and
NEEHU this year, since I only decided to go to each at the last minute,
and as a result they were a little flat (except for the presence of
@khatsha at Charmed!) Actually read the schedule, make plans with people
you know, check out other people’s wishlists and make plans with them,
give yourself missions or sidequests.
Think about how to help other people have a great con.
It’s a great way to take your mind off yourself and how you’re doing,
and to be visible in the best possible way. If people are bored, have
something for them to participate in. If something needs to get done, be
the one to do it. I know two people who brought their cars just to
ferry people around at two different cons, and made tons of friends,
including sexy friends. Teaching or demoing for a class is best of
course, but if not, volunteer, bring treats, join in activities. Get
involved in every way you can.
Figure out who’s sleeping with who. For “sleeping
with” substitute hypnotizing, playing with, or living with in a polycule
in a creaky old mansion. And also, who used to be sleeping with who,
who wants to be sleeping with who, who wishes they were still sleeping
with who (don’t go around creepily asking these things of course).
Otherwise much public behaviour will be baffling.
Figure out who’s assaulted or creeped on who. For the same reason.
Make your interests specific and public. I learned
this from @khatsha, who asked for, and got, two incredibly intricate
gender-bending interrogation scenes at her second ever hypnocon. She
also wants to be hypnotized to be a raccoon, and I have no doubt, some
day that will happen. (Maybe I’ll do it on our anniversary) At Entranced
Dreamelf carried around an adorable decorated printout of her wishlist,
and I believe she checked off every one. And one of those things was
copied off my published wishlist, and I got to do it with her!
It’s paradoxical, but being specific can be much more attractive than
just wanting “any type of hypnosis with anyone”. As long as you’re
unattached to any outcome, and sharing your fantasies rather imposing
them, only good things can result.
Ask people what classes to go to. Some classes are
way better than others, and it connects you with folks at least twice,
once when you ask and once when you tell them how great it was.
Take a break before you absolutely have to. No class is unmissable, and recharging is often the most important thing you could be doing.
You don’t have to bring it style-wise, but it pays off if you do.
A nice thing about hypno cons is that you can totally wear jeans and a
t-shirt and it’s never a big deal. But ever since I got turned away at a
Dublin kink club for not having a dungeon outfit, I’ve been determined
to level up. I’ve been slowly collecting party clothes that are progress
towards my vision of Hypnowave. (the coming overwhelming trendiness of
erotic hypnosis, in music, fashion, art and pop culture, that we will
ride until it spectacularly burns out and becomes a dated joke even
faster than Vaporwave) Not only did I get a lot of compliments at
Entranced, but everyone wanted to grope my shiny fuzzy blazer. If you
are saying, I can’t find or afford party clothes, that blazer was $80 on
Amazon. Last argument: I’ve noticed that on average the women are
making more of an effort. If you have ambitions to trance with women who
are in pretty corsets and great boots, shouldn’t you rise to the
occasion?
Reject control, embrace chance and happenstance.
Think of it as an improvisation, and say yes as often as you safely can.
Many of the best memories will come from totally spontaneous group
occurrences, often nothing to do with hypnosis. I remember being on an
elevator at Charmed that was very full and someone started groaning
sexually about how very full it was, and other people took it up, until
we all orgasmed together as the doors opened on the con floor. A real
“you had to be there“ moment I see as I type this, but I was there! On
the flipside, plans fall through, unforeseen stuff comes up. Nothing is a
sure thing.
Listen to emotions like curiousity, enthusiasm, affection, and lust.
Ignore emotions like lust for status, or desire for approval or acceptance.
Take a buffer day or three if you possibly can. See:
above point about emotional and physiological chaos. I had to go back
to work the day after Entranced, and it was horrible.
Stay in the game. Don’t bail. You might find
yourself deep in your head, and ready to throw a pity party for yourself
lasting till the end of the con. But things can turn around so fast!
And even if they don’t, there will still be many beautiful little
moments, of friendship and humour and sexiness and “this could only
happen at a hypno con”. You can be ready for these moments if you keep
your eyes open and your head up.
PS As I drafted this, two people have beat me to the punch
with excellent advice sparked by Entranced 2017, and I highly recommend
reading those too! Dommestic and dommesticpet
I had such a great time at Entranced. I volunteered, made new
friends, saw amazing classes, and soaked up the weird good vibes. I feel
like I’m getting better and better at this, solo con going - even
though my wife @khatsha
will accompany me henceforth, and I plan to stop trying and merely
coast on her charisma. But so many kudos to the organizers, who created
such a happy, creative, inclusive, consent-aware, and sexy as hell
weekend. And by the way, pretty much every time I talked to them they
seemed good humoured and actually enjoying themselves, which is quite
the feat for something so well run.
I had a few excellent scenes
that I might write about with permission, but for now here are other
major highlights, somewhat randomly arranged.
Getting
stranded in Logan airport for 4 hours on thursday night - a lowlight,
missing out on night 1 of the con and being uncomfortable - except for
one thing, which is that I was stranded with @digitalswitchgamine. And there were rocking chairs.
Empowered hypnobottom presenters with an equal voice in classes
Hypnobottom presenters getting increasingly flustered as classes went on and they got more turned on and fractionated
A very silly human muppetphone in the musical inductions class
@LeeAllure and @hypno-sandwich‘s always mind-blowing edgeplay class, which I also saw last NEEHU and will go to again every single time I can
Chill
breakfasts in the restaurant, including one where I learned about the
secret floating north american gay hypno con (Roo, if you’re reading
this, get in touch! You are cool!)
Being exposed to bits of
hot scenes near my scenes in the play rooms: two on one, four on one,
forced to kneel, cuddling together with a hypnoegg, and so on
People getting their nerd on, wonderfully, at @mrs-prism‘s karaoke. Plenty of Hamilton and Weird Al Yankovic
Intending to practice @spiralturquoise’s
instant inductions, what turned into instead a post 1 am impromptu
class on how to catch floppers with Dreamelf, in which I put myself in
the way of her flopping head and got my lip smashed to shreds against my
teeth. But we kept going and this somehow turned into quite the
spectator event. The next day, I used this skill!
Cracking
jokes at the back of the Consensual Nonconsent class with @LeeAllure
(Lee telling the story of how she makes partners like things they didn’t
like before, such as vegetables, and now one is always making her
stuffed peppers, which she doesn’t like. Me: “The dark side of CNC!”
Someone else: “That’s Culinary Non Consent?”)
Wearing my shiny fuzzy jacket for the first time Saturday night, and lots of women needing to fondle it
So
many great conversations and hangouts in the consuite, which was kept
stocked with abundant and delicious food at all times, including full
lunches and dinners. This was a triumph, making a note here, huge
success
Hypnotic hysterical literature.
Holy fucking shit. This is one of the hottest things I’ve ever
experienced, including most of my own orgasms. When I realized this was
sexy hypno people reading porn precision-crafted by our best writers to
get them off, even without the post-hypnotic suggestions… This is worth
more to me than all of Marvel Phase 3, dinner with Joss Whedon, and
drinks and karaoke with Lin-Manuel. I’m being super sincere
Glorious
introvert half hours in my hotel room tinkering with my app, the Hypno
ViewMaster™, before going out for hours more of intense socialization
with hypno peeps. This is a huge bonus of Entranced and Charmed
SCREAMS
of happiness at the announcement of the new, female Doctor conveyed by
someone on their phone at the end of a class. This might have happened
at any nerdy con, but it particularly highlighted for me the feminine,
and feminist, strength of Entranced
By some insanity
agreeing to set up chairs at 8 am on Saturday *and* Sunday (If you sat,
you probably sat in one of my chairs half the time!), but having lovely
conversations both days with Welselran about 50 Shades Darker and John
Carpenter movies.
Talking to the sweet, normal-looking suburban married couple for whom tuesday and thursday are Nova Pro 100
nights. One of my missions (I had missions! That helped!) was to learn
about live-in hypno D/s relationships and how they work, and got some
beautiful examples
I am enjoying decompressing, reading all the reports, and gloating, but I miss you all! Can’t wait to get to know you better!
Her Love Boils Bathwater
- Title of Japanese film in the seatback entertainment system
I'm flying back from Switzerland, after proposing to @khatsha (with a broadsword).
Although I won't watch this Japanese film, because xXx: The Return of
Xander Cage is there, the title grabs me. It makes me think of khatsha -
ok, everything does at this point, but it makes me think about her
passion, and how irresistible that is.
She came to see me on the train in Italy in August, 2015, and we had a
mindblowing few days of sex and hypnosis. But I started to fall for her
when I read her writing about it.
I always fall for writers - people who can make me feel their powerful,
specific emotions, and draw me into their world. khatsha is a writer.
She has that thing. And also has the kind of wild, poetic flow that I
envy. She has a talent for surrender: to the flow of words, to her
unconscious, to her senses, to trance, to new pleasures, to passion. To
me.
From that writing to her most recent,
how could I not be seduced by those words? And by how I'm magic for
her? This is not a metaphor: I'm magic, as close to literally as you can
get without breaking the laws of physics. Because of post-hypnotic
suggestions I can snap my fingers, or say a word, and something really,
truly happens to her. And no one does compliments like an enthralled
hypnotic pleasure slave.
But it's not just about her passion for me, it's her passion for her
ideals; for hypnosis; for community; for open source software. What she
loves, she loves so hard, and the same with what she despises. Some of
it is for comedic exaggeration, but only a little. Being around her,
colours are brighter, contrasts are deeper.
“At the end of the day, it comes down to the same question I've
been asking my wife every Friday night for the last 20 years: Do you
want some of this??”
- Samuel L. Jackson as Augustus Gibbons in xXx: The Return of Xander Cage
I know this level of excitement won't last. These feelings are partly
about the joy of finding someone with such compatible interests and
fetishes, the hunger from forced separation, the spice of different
cultural backgrounds, the thrill of travelling all over Europe together,
and, last but not least, hypnoamory, the tendency of people to fall in
love with their hypnotists and vice versa. There's something
tremendously naive about what we're planning to do.
But I feel lucky that we're both in our 30s and have a tiny bit of
life under our belts. Enough to know that there's more to this. Even
when we're sexually spent (well me anyway) there's so much to talk
about. Everything from design to politics to fictional tropes to deep
learning to french translations of Poe. I remember looking at her across
fancy high tea in London in March 2016 and realizing, I want to keep
this conversation going, pretty much for the rest of my life. That’s
when I told her I wanted to do what it takes so we can be together.
I have high hopes for our sex life, and the touching weekly ritual of
Samuel L. Jackson and his unseen wife are an inspiration. Khatsha is
bodacious and a super pervert, and with hypnosis in the mix the weird
stuff is just endless. But it's the conversation that makes me most
confident.
"We are officially living together." "The experiment begins."
- Sheldon and Amy in The Big Bang Theory, Season 10 ep 4.
I've never lived with a girlfriend before. Now I'm having khatsha
move thousands of kilometres to make a home with me in a Jamaica Plain
apartment. The most consecutive nights we've slept in the same bed is
about 14. There's going to be so much stuff to figure out, from what
sides of the bed we sleep on to how the sink gets cleaned.
Hopefully living together goes way, way better than it does for
Sheldon and Amy. I'm a much better roommate, and unlike Sheldon, I like
sex! But I have my Sheldonish side, being used to having things in my
living space just so (including the messes), so there will be a lot to
get over.
But as we've been telling each other for a while now: there will be
happiness, and there will be freakouts. All we can hope and plan for is
that we'll freak out at alternating times, which still leaves at least
one person to do the reassuring.
"I live for this shit."
- Xander Cage in xXx: The Return of Xander Cage
Nearly all the time I'm cautious and prudent in my decisions, not to
mention physically and socially timid. Then once in a while I get a
voice in my head that scares the shit out of me because it tells me it's
time to do something big (also because it sounds like Riddick). When I
switched colleges to move thousands of miles from my home town, when I
walked into my first kink event, when I decided to move to Italy for two
years in my mid 30s, when I proposed to khatsha. All sparked by
something saying, you need to bust out into a bigger, more exciting
world. My life would be so narrow without these decisions!
Khatsha, also a nervous computer scientist, has that thing too,
except it's much more consistent and warrior-like. Since we saw Mad Max
she is often heard to say, "What a lovely day!!"
(we’ve had some discussion of spraying our mouths with silver paint
just before our wedding ceremony) That's something I really love about
her.
I've spent so much of my life, maybe more than most people, immersed
in fictional stories. Sometimes they seemed very important, but other
times they were undeniably a kind of in-flight entertainment system for
my life, just getting me through the ride with as little discomfort as
possible.
But when the real inflight entertainment shuts off as the plane lands
in Boston, I'm still in the story. It's real. Two nerdy hypnofetishists
moving to America together for love, fortune, kink, adventure, and
community.
I'm marrying khatsha, sooner than I will finish this box of Raisin Bran. And things will never be the same.
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.
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.”
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.
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:
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?
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.
- Stephen Colbert
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.
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?
- Vincent Van Gogh
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!!”
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.
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 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.
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:
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.
