So it turns out as a movie it is pretty problematic and shitty but a good 25% of it is Alan Rickman wearing swishy cloaks trancing (or something like it) ladies who realllllyyyyyy seem to enjoy it. But he just keeps whining about healing the world and science and stuff.
This is for science.
And medicine.
Not sexy at all.
SHE WANTS THE T. (T=trance)
Goddamn that little handhold in a hypno context can just be the most intimate thing.
Ugh Hans Gruber Snape Mesmer Rickman stop making me love you.
Not sexual. Nope.
NOTE This character is pretty much moaning at this point. Because getting your blindness treated is hawt.
Prettttttty sure I do something like this in trance.
I guess this could be kinky but she’s already blind.
Like I said, there’s a lotta dis.
AW YEAH GET IT GURL AND BY “IT” I MEAN YOUR VISION AND THERFORE AN EYEFUL OF SEXY HYPNOTIST ALAN RICKMAN.
ALL THE FRENCH ROYAL LADIES WANT THE T.
Same.
Wait I think I saw a porno like this once.
WHAT THE FUCK HE IS MAKING A ROOM FULL OF FRENCH LADIES HAVE AN ORGASM. THIS MOVIE IS NOT EVEN PRETENDING MESMERISM ISN’T SEXUAL. WHAT IS GOING ON. WHY IS THIS MOVIE SHITTY/GREAT?
YOU TOO ALAN?
GREATEST.
MOVIE.
SCENE.
EVER.
In conclusion: Thank you, Dr. Mesmer. You hoped your work would cure suffering and disease, and eventually your legacy resulted in freaks like me getting off on it. And you got a shitty biopic that was kinda hot in a weird way, even by hypnofetishist standards. Mazel tov.
It was the vacant expression on the women’s face across from me that frightened me the most. There were five of them, kneeling, wearing this god-awful outfit, the kind you’d think a horny 16-year-old boy would imagine a dominatrix would wear. Only these women weren’t standing sternly over the boy; they were on their knees, in a row, staring into space. I tried to get their attention, first by whispering, then by shouting. But it was useless.
I’d say I tried to take stock of the situation when I first came to, but only my ex-boyfriend would make those kind of lame puns. One moment I was at this new club wearing my LBD and having my favorite drink- a Manhattan, thank you very much- and the next, I’m here, naked, my wrists and neck caught between two planks. The planks were chained to the floor and ceiling, suspended, so I was stuck in a kneeling position, my ass resting on another wooden plank which ran between my legs. The room was dark, and I could barely make out anything beyond the five woman staring blankly into the darkness behind me.
They were of varying builds and races, and, frankly, they were all pretty hot. Pretty hot? Why was I thinking like that? I must still be woozy from that drink. Or whatever was in that drink. In fact, the one on the right looked like the woman who had been next to me at the bar, the one who said she liked my dress, and asked me about my shoes. I thought I saw her do something near my drink when I looked down, but I wasn’t sure. That’s about the last thing I remember before I woke up here.
It was then that I noticed I wasn’t actually terrified. If anything, this whole experience was making me… a little turned on. Yes. I was definitely turned on.
As i was trying to make sense of this, I thought I heard a whisper or a voice say something behind me.
All of a sudden, projected on the women and the wall behind them, was this amazing digital spiral thing. Well, it wasn’t quite a spiral and it wasn’t not a spiral. It was simultaneously black and white and all the colors of the rainbow. Or, at least, that’s how I remember it.
And then there was this weird sound playing in the background. It wasn’t quite music, but it wasn’t exactly drum and bass. And there was some kind of whispering going on behind that. I tried to make out what it was saying. I thought I had just figured it out when it got drowned out by what happened next.
Because, right then, a humming filled the room. I looked at the women and saw that they were on what looked a lot like Sybians, and that’s where the hum was coming from.
At exactly the same time, I felt something press against my clit and that’s when I realized the plank I was over had a hole right in the fucking middle of it. ‘Cause that’s when I started to feel the thing pressed against me start to vibrate. And the vibrations were pulsing in time to the video projecting on those fucking hot women and the wall behind them.
I’m not going to lie; it felt good. So good. Disturbingly good. I was just trying to come to my senses about this, when the women started speaking in unison.
“Obedience brings pleasure.”
What. The. Actual. Fuck?
Then again, in creepy unison. “Obedience brings pleasure.”
And that’s when I realized the vibration from the thing pressed against me was in time with their words, too.
Then the vibration on me, and the humming stopped at the same time.
All at once I heard a chorus of disappointed moans from the women.
They looked at me with… disappointment? Rage? Accusation? I guess it depends on which one I looked at, if I could tear my eyes away from their heaving breasts.
Then it started again.
“Obedience brings pleasure.” They chanted. “Obedience brings pleasure.”
Fuck. It felt so good, though it was much lighter than last time.
Whatever they had injected in me, whatever was going on, it was working. This was starting to feel better than the Molly I had at Burning Man five years ago.
But the fact it was lighter was sooooo frustrating.
Then it turned off again. Again, there were disappointed sighs from the women.
A minute later it started again, only I could barely feel it. In fact, whatever it was that was beneath me didn’t vibrate at all. It just lay there, across my clit.
I admit I tried to press against it, but it didn’t make a difference.
Again, three times-”Obedience brings pleasure.” This time the words were displayed over the animation. This time, when the vibrations turned off, I admit, I joined the chorus of disappointed moans.
“Fuck it,” I thought. “Why not?”
When it started up, I waited until I could do it in time to girls. “Obedience brings pleasure.” Oh fuck. The vibrator started right up, just like the first time. “Obedience brings pleasure. Obedience brings pleasure.”
This time it kept going. And going.
I soon learned that if I stopped saying it, everything would stop for a minute, and the women would whine very loudly.
I really got into the rhythm of it, thought. “Obedience brings pleasure. Obedience brings pleasure.” Even the thought of it was really hot. I’d always had a thing for roleplaying in the bedroom. Pretending to be Chuck’s sex slave that one weekend was a lot of fun. This was starting to feel a little like that headspace I got to by the end of that weekend.
I was getting ready to come when all of a sudden all the vibrations stopped. This time I did groan in disappointment, but-strangely-the other women didn’t.
One minute later a new sentence appeared.
“I am blank and empty, ready to be filled.”
What the fuck? I mean, it was hot, but still. The women started to chant before I registered what was going on, and this time I got nothing between my legs.
This was so frustrating.
“Fine.” I thought. “I can do this.”
After the vibrations over there stopped, the glares happened again, and the minute was up, I was ready.
“I am blank and empty, ready to be filled.” As before, the vibrator kept going and going as long as I repeated what was on the screen.
This went on for-easily-another five minutes, and, just as I was getting close again, it stopped. Again, I groaned in frustration.
Do you ever get drunk on lust, where everything is hazy and you’d do anything to get over that edge? That’s where I was.
I looked into the darkness for what felt like minutes, waiting for the next sentence.
“I have no will, I live to serve.” That’s easy.
I started chanting right on cue, and was rewarded with so much pleasure.
“I have no will, I live to serve. I have no will, I live to serve.”
For the next… I don’t know.. several hours? This routine repeated over and over again. Pretty soon, the sentences would flash over the animation one right after the other.
“I am a mindless slave.”
“I obey my orders.”
“Only good drones get to cum.”
“I don’t deserve to think.”
“I believe my mantras.”
“I live to obey.”
“I want to be a drone. I want to be a slave. I want to be mindless, empty, and blank.”
“I am a drone. I am a slave. I am mindless, empty, and blank.”
“I am a fucktoy.”
“I am just an obedient cunt.”
“I live for my orders.”
And you know what? It worked.
I think when I finally got to “Fuck my mind like the good fuckdoll I am” I was allowed to come. But I can’t really say, because by that point I was really mindless and filled with desire. Several hours of frustration will do that.
Once I broke, the women got up, released me, and began to construct a new identity for me. But that’s a whole other story.
This story…
This is a story I like to tell women like you, because the drug I put in your drink took effect a long, long time ago. You won’t remember me telling it to you at all, even though you’ve been saying the mantras with me all the way through.
Thanks to every one of my new followers and all of you who have been reading and enjoying my stories.
If you’re into that sort of thing, please consider trying out this collaboration I did with theleeallure, called “The Edge of Trance.” Edge of Trance …
hypno-sandwich has set himself a project to write me a whole bunch of stories that press my buttons.
I didn’t respond to this one at first, and it was nothing to do with the story not being to my liking.
Far from it.
I’ve read this particular story so many times I didn’t want to just express how I felt about it in words. I wanted to record how I hear it in my head.
Honestly. This ticks so many of my boxes, and I’m grinning like a chimp that Sandwich took what I said to heart. It’s darker, it’s got repetition and mantras, and it’s so. Flipping. Hot.
I like your angry hypnofucking stories, Sandwich. Get angry more often 😉
They sat in his private screening room, just having watched some second-rate Danny Boyle flick. The credits were slowly marching their way up the screen.
She turned to him and said, “You know you can’t hypnotize me, right?”
He started. “What? Why?… Why would you say that?”
She leaned a little away from him on the couch, but kept her hand on his arm, as if to hold him at a proper distance.
“Because… I hate to say it.”
He gave her a blank look. “Go on. Be honest.”
“Because I’m smarter than you, Reg. I’m more clever, and, frankly, better read. I know all the tricks in the book. Look, I’ve seen your little harem, and I’ve seen how you get into what passes for their little heads, but you simply can’t get into mine…. you’re just…”
While she had been talking, Reg stood up, and was pacing in front of her. He stopped, a curious look on his face.
“I’m just… what?” A more attentive person might have seen the concealed fury raging below his face. She was a very attentive person.
“You’re just….” she giggled, “Not good enough.” She paused for effect. “You’re not really strong enough to handle me even if you got me.”
Reg grabbed a glass and walked behind her to get to the bar, apparently to grab another soda.
“Really?” he asked.
She didn’t even bother to turn around. “Really.”
He clicked something in his pockets and, all at once, the lights in the theater went out. Another click, and there, on the screen was this enormous, slightly green spiral, swirling and spinning.
She went to turn around, to tell him he was wasting his time, but he was right there, with his hands clutching her hair. He moved whole body by her hair, until she was sitting and she was facing the screen. A brief smile danced across her lips.
“Listen, girl,” and the sneer in his voice was palpable. “I wasn’t going to take you into my ‘harem,’ and I’m still not sure I want to. Frankly, I have higher standards. Your skirt’s just a little too high, and you undid just one too many buttons when you went to the bathroom after dinner. What sort of girl does that, I wonder? Hm?” He paused. “Well I don’t care, because you’ll tell me what sort of girl you are by the end of the night.”
He shuffled around, putting in some earplugs, and then, clicked another button. Now, in addition to the spiral, there were flashing lights, and a hum in the distance, like whispers begging for her to do something.“
“But since you want proof of how ‘good’ I am. I’ll let you have it. Just for now.”
She struggled, but they both knew she couldn’t really win. He shoved her right back down into the couch and she landed with a poorly contained yelp.
“Look at the spiral, girl. Watch it! Because any second I’m going to hypnotize the fuck out of you. And I haven’t decided if you deserve to know when it happens or not. I haven’t decided if you’re going to slowly fall into the trance ‘cause I pushed you, or if you’re going to surrender to it and wind up on your knees begging to go even deeper. I don’t know if I’m going to waste hours guiding you through every crevice of trance, or if I’m just going to fuck your conscious mind into submission.”
She shook her head “no,” but it was already half-hearted.
“Even now you can feel my will pouring over you, as my whispers in your ear combine with the whispers in this studio, drowning your will. Even now your unconscious mind is paying attention to all those tiny little subliminal words I put into that spiral. Submit. Give in. Obey.
“I don’t even have to put you into a trance. In less than three minutes you’ll be so suggestible to me and my voice, I can tell you what to do when you’re wide awake and you’ll beg for me to let you do it.
“You want to know how I know you’re about to give in? It’s the way you’re squeezing those bare thighs of yours together, desperately trying to ignore how turned on you are, right now.
“And right now, we’re so far away from where you were when I turned on that spiral. Because the moment I turned the spiral on your mind turned started to turn off, and a whole different part of your body turned on.”
She continued to shake her head.
“Go on. Resist. I’m begging you. Please don’t ask me to be part of my terrible ‘harem.’ Don’t give in to me. How embarrassing for you to give in to the man who’s not as clever as you are, who’s not as smart, who’s not as well-read, who doesn’t know ‘all the tricks in the book.’ Come on, girl. Don’t give in. Stay conscious. Don’t listen to those voices in the room how good it feels to give in, to obey, to submit, to be just another conquest for me. Don’t be one of them.”
She was trying so desperately to resist. Part of her was turned on, part of her, after all, wanted his attention. But like this? She kept shaking her head. She was on the brink of tears, her eyes beginning to water with frustration.
“Resist. Show me what a clever girl would do in this situation. Tell me what a smart girl would do. Tell me.”
She couldn’t find the words. She felt like she was holding on to her last shred of dignity, her last shred of willpower, her last shred of consciousness. The lights were disorienting her. She saw words flying by in all the corners of the room. Those whispers, telling her to give in. And always there was that screen with the spiral. And always there was his voice, goading her, mocking her, telling her not to give in.
“Show me what kind of girl you are. Show me how you’re better than me. Don’t sleep. Don’t give into this trance. Don’t give into the whispers. It’d make me happy to see you resist all this pressure on your poor. Little. Mind. So come not. Don’t fall. Don’t let me push you. Don’t give in.”
She could practically taste the mocking tone in his voice. Her mind was a racing blur, trying to keep up with his words and all the sounds and visuals. She had to fight him. She couldn’t do what he wanted. What did he want? It was getting so hard to think, like moving through molasses. She didn’t even notice that he wasn’t holding her by the hair anymore, that she had slumped so far forward she was on her knees, her head spinning in time to the spiral and the whispers all around her. She was, literally, overcome.
“So don’t do it. Show me what you’re made of! Don’t give in, girl. Stay awake”
That was it! She’d show him! She wouldn’t let him push her around, she thought to herself.
And with that, her mind executed a brilliant, perfect 10 dive into a deep, deep trance. And another smile came across her face. Those this time, it stayed.
After all… she showed she was smarter than him.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Don’t try this at home. This is fantasy, and you shouldn’t do NC-hypno on a first date or in any interaction with another human being. Please, no wagering.
Later Friday after cooling off (marginally) from my scene with hypno-sandwich I encountered switchette. We’ve spoken a fair amount but we finally got around to playing. This woman is fucking amazing and she has such lovely reactions to having her beautiful teal and black dreads pulled.
When I…
So this is zanythoughts’s delicious (and super-sweet!) retelling of our scene a couple weekends ago. I have more to say about it, but first I need to read it over and over again and cover my mouth with my hand and look askance and think terribly naughty things and occasionally make noises – as is my wont.
I feel like I’ve been tagged in. I’m gonna have to start blogging now, somehow someway.
