Charmed 2023 Recap: Chapter Four – An Introduction to F&cking

            Now as I said in an early portion, Paige had expressed an interest in feeling some kind of degradation. Specifically, she liked the idea of being shared with a friend and being at their “mercy.” Before the convention I went to try to find someone who would (1) be safe; (2) be cool; and (3) be willing and able. Gender was no particular object, but having talked to her about the particular flavor of degradation she was looking for, a cis-male seemed to fit the motif pretty well. The problem, as it turns out, is that it turns out there are a limited number of cis-males who fit those criteria. At least, among people that I felt comfortable approaching (which is a limitation of its own). 

            I was bemoaning my plight to Hypnobunny, who suggested that her partner, Spike, would be more than happy to throw himself on this grenade. After confirming his STI testing status, his coolness, and his willingness to participate, we set a time. Spike made sure to avoid Paige during Friday so that this would, in fact, be the first time meeting.

            When the time came, I made Paige come to meet me in the room. A few minutes later, they knocked on the door, and I made introductions. We made some small talk: Paige had been to a hypno meet-up where, wearing a mask, someone thought she was Hypnobunny. 

            After a few minutes, I told Paige: “Paige. This is where you do anything Spike wants while we watch.” Paige blushed. I added, “Paige… don’t disappoint me.”

            HypnoBunny ran to the adjoining bed where I was to enjoy the show. Now, HypnoBunny and I had played a few times over the years, but in our pre-con conversations we each realized that we had been willing to do more over the years but, for some reason, didn’t think the other was interested. Well, the free sex show that was unfolding was more than we could take and, within minutes, we had torn each other’s clothes off, I had peeled on a condom, and then I went to fucking her from behind so we could watch our partners get to know each other. 

            Watching them was a bit of a blur. Between getting a hold of someone new and figuring out what she liked, getting turned on by Spike and Paige going at it, and then keeping an eye on the time because, incredibly, I had arranged another scene for about an hour afterwards and needed to shower first (obviously) I may have been just a little distracted. 

            I saw as he flipped her around and tried different positions. Watched as he worked her to a very intense orgasm. We ourselves had tried a few different positions ourselves, and I briefly considered mirroring the positions they were doing, but we eventually settled into a happy space of fucking and making out, then fucking, then making out, then fucking and making out again. As you do.

            But my time was short and so I had to, rather disappointingly, hop into that shower and change for the next scene.

            By the time I left, HypnoBunny had joined the duo on the bed and was helping Spike make Paige cum again. I’d say that I understood the assignment.

Charmed Recap 2023: Chapter Two – Win-Win

https://www.tumblr.com/hypno-sandwich/707580456271560704/charmed-2023-recaps-chapter-two-win-win

Charmed 2023 Recaps: Chapter 1 – Doll Time

2) Doll Time

            So my doll may or may not have been at this event. As a result, this scene may, or may not, have happened at the event or may have happened some time else. 

            When they’re not in dollspace, the Doll is an amazingly intelligent and crafty person (and no, I am not telling you who they are). 

            We talked for a few minutes in the twilight. 

            Then I told them to drop. I told them to sink. I told them to sink into the pink.

            There is something truly intoxicating about a face filled with intelligence being softened by your words. Seeing the triggers take hold and drag the consciousness down. Down. Down.

            We may have been working on a cock trigger. So that when I unzipped and showed them my hardening cock, the rest of their mind slid out of sight. 

            They got on their knees on the bed and began to worship my cock. Sometimes when you’re working with someone you can tell that the trance has started to stick its claws into their mind but hasn’t entirely taken control yet. This is what I was seeing as they struggled to concentrate on the cock on their mouth. But as they worshiped…. And as I made some moderately appreciative sounds… I could see the rest of their mind slip away. 

            At one point they paused over the head of my dick and stared at me. A beautiful, vulnerable drop of drool hung down their mouth and slowly slipped down on to my cock. They were gone. Worshipfully and completely gone. 

            I let them trance themselves as the moved up and down over and over again. Finally, after close to a half hour, I brought them out of a trance by making them emerge into an endorphin dump; about as close to an orgasm as some people get. 

            I then marveled as the lights came on in their eyes and a sheepish and sly smile returned to their face. 

Charmed 2023 Recaps: Chapter 0 – Brat-Taming 101

            I went into Glitter-Spiral’s room which was, magically, right across from ours. We had talked before the con about doing something, possibly involving hypnosis, definitely involving sexual activity. I told her I was looking forward to the sex, obviously, but that Paige had agreed to be the room slave for the weekend, so I had decided to have Paige be the first person I fucked at the con. Glitter-Spiral nodded, replying “that’s not to say we can’t do other things, right?”

            I agreed. I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her in for a kiss. She joshed me a little, teasing me about how she wasn’t feeling very bottomy (Glitter-Spiral is a self-described brat.) 

            “Oh really?” I said. “You really want to get fucked up this weekend, don’t you?”

            She nodded. I stared directly into her eyes.

            “So if you’re a brat, you’re going to stop yourself from doing what I tell you to right?” 

            She nodded again, her eyes getting a little wider.

            “Then whatever you do, don’t drop into trance. Because I’m telling you to go into trance and you want to stop yourself from falling. So don’t fall. Even though you know how good the first trance of a convention is. You’ve been thinking about hypnotic trance so much for so long and that busy little bratty little brain wants to be shut down, wants to be silenced, but it better not fall into trance. Don’t fall into trance!” 

            As I was talking, her eyes veered from wakefulness to unfocused and then back to wakefulness as the struggle played out on her face. As I used my patter against her, I slowly backed her into the room and in front of her bed. 

            “I said don’t fall!” and here I gently slapped her face and snapped in her ears. (All of which I had negotiated pre-conference.) “You don’t want to give in that easily, right? You don’t want to drop into a delicious all-encompassing trance, because you’re trying to stop yourself from doing the things I tell you, right?”

            The look of confusion spread deliciously across her face even as she found her head nodding in agreement with the things I was saying. 

            “But resistance makes you so tired, and being tired makes you want to sleep, and, after all, you need to do the opposite of what I’ve been telling you to do and I’ve been telling you to stay awake, and so the thing you really should do is DROP!”

            And here I pushed her on to the bed and onto her back. I could see her face lose all sense of self as the tell-tale signs of a trance settled into her face. 

            I deepened her trance and then told her I she would feel better and better with each rise out of and subsequent fall into trance. I went up and began talking to her face as I reached down and began running my fingers between her legs. 

            “So,” I said as I brought her up, “are you still feeling like a brat?” 

            “N-no?” 

            “You sound uncertain.”

            “I-I’m not…I don’t know.”

            “Well, maybe a couple of orgasms will help.”

            “I- what?”

            “Drop.”

            I proceeded to fractionate her into and out of trance as I ran my fingers over her very wet clit. In seconds she was cumming as she came out of trance, and then cumming again as I sent her back into trance. Pretty much, she came a lot. 

            At some point she recovered just enough composure to make one final bratty comment. “You know you’re just encouraging me to be more of a brat?”

            I paused and said, right before sending her into another trancey orgasm, “I know. It’ll be more fun to break you that way.”

            That time she came hard. 

            After some making out time, I left, with the promise to come back and, as she put it, “Fuck her up some more.” 

ClickBait/ClickBate

This is what happens when you start talking about human click-training fantasies around enscenic and I, someone suggests that we try our hands at stories based on the same titles, and then she and I feel compelled to write those stories. (Funny, there may have been some “clicking” sounds as people were telling us to do this. <shrug>.) Anyhow, people can find out about “click training” here. And I’ll post a link to enscenic‘s version here.

(WARNING-contains scenes of a suggestive nature, intended for mature audiences, viewer discretion advised. One or both of the stories may contain mind control, non-consentual situations, same gender sex, masturbation, graphic nudity, non-graphic nudity, mindfuckery, and jingles. Please do not operate heavy machinery after reading it.)

Also, please enjoy! <click>

ClickBait

I’d say that Michelle was a little out of my league. In fact, I’d say she was a lot out of my league. But when you’re a junior in college, life is short, the hormones are strong, and you just don’t second-guess it when a smoking hot girl lands in your lap at a party and tells you to take her home.

I would have figured it for a one-night stand, but she kept calling me and asking me to take her places. Again-who was I to second-guess my luck?

Now, don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t say I was a social outcast, but I wasn’t in a frat, I hated College Football, and was barely a back-up defensive midfielder for our Division II team. Michelle was a sophomore and well on her way to being a head cheerleader; she was peroxide blonde, tan, built like a teenage boy’s wet dream, and smart. She was going to be a doctor, she would say. And I believed her. She was bossy, and… I guess I kind of liked it.

My best friend didn’t.

“So that’s all it takes, huh?” Jennifer asked me right after Michelle had asked me… all right, she had really told me where and when I was meeting her… all right, taking her to dinner. “That’s all it takes for what?”

“To grab and tag you.” She replied.

“Oh… shut up, Jailbait.”

She shoved me good-naturedly. “Shut up, yourself, Beanpole.”

Jennifer (always “Jennifer” to everyone else and never “Jenni” or “Jen”) and I had met on the first day of college and became close friends, navigating our new experiences together. We helped each other in the classes we had deficits in; Jennifer was a psychology major, and helped me through all the Humanities. I was in engineering and helped her though the core math classes. Fresh out of high school I was tall-much taller than Jennifer—and skinny. She immediately started calling me “Beanpole.”

Jennifer, on the other hand, was super tiny, with dark hair and features and, when I met her, still with braces. She was in college a year early, having skipped her senior year. Even though she was just 17 when she started college, she looked 14. So, of course, I called her “Jailbait.” Nothing romantic ever happened between us… I don’t know… I just didn’t think there was any chemistry–any “click” between us–you know? I just didn’t think I was her type.

Other than a couple of times when she would go home to see her high school sweetheart and when I had a couple of weekends home, we were inseparable. So Michelle’s appearance on the scene caused some slight tension. Oddly, Michelle wasn’t actually jealous of Jailbait…. I mean, Jennifer. I think she didn’t consider her a threat.

For the most part, Jennifer seemed happy I was getting some, but there was always a little snarkiness after Jennifer would see me with Michelle. Early on I swore I heard her say something like “even with her resting bitchface.” But I let it go, since it seemed they eventually settled into a mutual acceptance of each other’s existence.

We walked to our next classes in silence.

Finally, after a thoughtful minute, she turned to me and asked, “You’ll still help me with that psychology experiment, right?”

“What? Oh sure. What do I have to do?”

“Well… I can’t tell you. Just know that I’ll be doing some strange things around you for the next week or so, and seeing how you react. But I promise I’ll tell you all about it when it’s all done.”

“Oh. OK. I trust you. As long as it isn’t like when you tried hypnosis on me and I slept through the fire alarm.”

She laughed. “No. This’ll be different. Much different.” She got another dreamy look on her face for a second.

“Sure. It’ll be fine.” I responded, and turned to leave.

She grabbed my arm suddenly and almost whispered, “No. I need you to say it very affirmatively. Do you, Jean-Paul, consent to me experimenting on you for the next two weeks? And that you’ll be open to whatever happens and won’t ask any questions until the experiment is over.”

I paused and looked down at her into her suddenly serious grey eyes. “Yes. I, Jean-Paul, consent to you, Jennifer Anderson, experimenting on me for the next two weeks. And I’ll be open to whatever happens and I won’t ask any questions until the experiment is over.”

As I was talking, she reached into her jeans pocket, and, right when I finished, I heard this weird clicking sound, just as she smiled. “Good. Thank you! I knew I could count on you. All right, I’ll see you later.”

I watched as she walked off, then shook my head as I ran to class.

The next couple days, I would hear that clicking noise over and over again whenever Jennifer was around.  She had something in her pocket that she was constantly fiddling with and making those noises. I assumed it was part of the experiment.

On Monday, I was rummaging around in my bag on the ground, looking for a pen. It meant I had to take all of my things out and strew them around. Just as I got to my knees, and said I found it, she clicked.

Later that day, I was trying to decide which donut to have at the donut shop. I mentioned I was practically drooling, and she clicked.

On that first Tuesday she sat me down in a study room in the library and asked me about 50 or 60 questions all in a row, some of them personal. She didn’t click on all of them, but I think there were clicks any time I admitted I liked it when Michelle… well, actually, Jailbait never used her name. I guess it was whenever any woman took charge. Anyway, she seemed to click every time I answered in the affirmative. I kind of lost track of all the questions and it was like I was answering them on auto-pilot giving me the same floaty sensation I had from the time she hypnotized me. When we were done, she said, “good job,” and, as I smiled, she clicked.

Wednesday, she showed up to training, and stood on the touchline. I could barely hear the clicker throughout the game. I don’t think it made a difference, but still, I actually scored two goals.

The only time it was ever really annoying was when I was on the phone with Michelle planning a date for the weekend. Every time I said “yes” to one of Michelle’s suggestions, Jailbait would click. It was so annoying hearing that incessant click. I actually got on my knees to beg her to stop. Somehow this made her whole face light up, and she clicked even more.

Thursday night, I was getting ready to go to bed when she knocked on the door. She came in with her laptop, and sat it down in front of me.

“Don’t ask questions, remember?” was the first thing she said.

I nodded as she clicked.

She pressed a button on the laptop and a video started playing. It was porn.

“Really?” I glanced at her. But her eyes were glued to the screen.

“Shut up, Beanpole, and watch.”

As I turned back, she clicked again. It was a montage of many different scenes. I remembered it from an earlier psych class experiment she had had me sit in on. It was supposed to be a wide array of porn to test people’s subconscious reactions through an EKG. I didn’t have one connected; we just thought it’d be a hoot to watch one drunken night.

I couldn’t figure out the pattern to her clicks, but after a while, I didn’t care. In fact, I thought the video was about 30 minutes long, but it seemed to only take a couple of minutes.

When the video ended, she closed the laptop and walked out of the room without another word.

The weekend date night with Michelle didn’t seem particularly memorable. Jennifer met us at the pub. I couldn’t believe she brought the clicker there. I was sure Michelle would say something, but she somehow ignored it. When Michelle was out of earshot, I gave Jennifer a quizzical look. Without me saying a word, Jennifer whispered in my ear, “I told her about the experiment.” That pretty much satisfied me.

The next week went by in a blur. Periodically, she’d come over to my room, or I’d go over to her room, and she’d have me read a book out loud, or watch some terrible French movie, and all the time-at random intervals- she’d click her weird little clicker.

The next Friday, I had a really hot date with Michelle planned. She had told me she had something special cooked up for me, and asked me to wear the special silk boxers I had bought at the lingerie store the same day I had bought her this amazing corset and stocking set.

I eagerly knocked on the door to her dorm apartment, and Jennifer answered. I was shocked.

First, because she wasn’t supposed to be here.

Second, because of what she was wearing. The first thing I noticed was the heels. She never wore heels. Second, as I moved up, was the stockings and the leather pencil skirt. A pressed white shirt followed that, and then, above that, there was a face full of serious intent and covered in tasteful make up. Jailbai- I mean- Jennifer–never wore make up. I could have died right there.

“Wha-“ I almost said.

“John-Paul.”

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

“John-Paul. Come in.”

I walked in in a daze.

I stared at her.

She stared at me.

“What?” I finally said.

“Shhh. Don’t worry. I knew I could count on you.”

When she said those words, something clicked inside my head.

I started taking off my clothes.

When I was done, she said, “good job.”

I blinked, and found myself on my knees. I was also, suddenly, incredibly hard.

I started to ask something.

“Shhh. Don’t ask questions.” Again, something clicked inside of me and I stayed on my knees in front of her.

“Thank you…” and she looked at my crotch, “Beanpole. I’m sure I’ll find a use for that. But that wasn’t what I was after exactly. Oh, Bitchface!”

I glanced past Jennifer and saw… Michelle! She was naked except for a collar around her neck. Her eyes looked at me pleadingly.

“You see, Michelle just had to ask about the clicking she kept hearing on the phone. And she wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Michelle crawled right up to Jennifer, and Jennifer lightly patted Michelle’s head. “So I showed her.” Jennifer bent over, pulling my girlfriend’s chin up to look her in the eyes. “Just like I planned.”

“Bitchface.” Michelle stared back with a ton of fury and anger. Somehow I could tell she wanted to say something but, like me, couldn’t. From my vantage point, I could also see how amazingly wet she was. “Bitchface… ‘Prove how much you care for him.’” I could tell it was some kind of trigger phrase, because a glassy look passed over her face and Michelle… just wasn’t there any more.

Michelle quickly, yet deliberately, crawled in front of Jennifer and slowly puled up Jennifer’s skirt.

“I am so glad I took that class.”

As Michelle went to work, Jennifer kept eye contact with me, and I could read every second of mounting pleasure written in her suddenly captivating grey eyes.

“Thanks for being bait, Beanpole…. Oh. Good. You’re getting so good at that, Bitchface.” She closed her eyes briefly. I think I let out a moan. “Shut up, Beanpole, and watch.” Once again, something inside of me shifted, and I found myself on the brink of an unexpected orgasm.

I could tell when she came–the whole complex probably could—but I knew because I could hear that sound.

She clicked her device.

And the next- and last– thing I remembered was the sound of my voice and Bitchface’s voice, coming together.

*      *     *     *     *     *     *

ClickBate

Try ClickBit™, the performance-enhancing device™ and “Enhance your Life, Today!”™

Our newest model, the ClickBit™ Wrist1000™, uses the latest research in physiological, kinesthetic, and psychological scientific training techniques to overcome the single greatest obstacle to changing your life: you!

It’s a complex device that monitors your heart-rate, skin temperature, hydration, and metabolic reactions. It uploads this information to ClickBit™, Inc.’s secure cloud-based database, Panopt-U-Can™, which keeps track of your progress.

As you meet your goals, and the new goals the Panopt-U-Can™ sets for you based on your prior performance, the ClickBit™ Wrist 1000™ releases a clicking noise, which rewards and reminds you what your goals are. The more you meet your performance goals, the more the clicks you hear, and the happier you are. 

This technology is complex, but easy to use, with a simple interface that is personalized to your comfort level. It even tells the time! 

There’s no introductory fee, and only a small monthly fee. And, since the biggest obstacle to fitness is you, it won’t come off until you pay a “Farewell Fee.”™ But we believe that, once it’s on, you won’t want to take it off! 

So try the fitness sensation that’s enhancing the nation! Try the ClickBit™ Wrist1000™, or any of our fine products and find out how “Enhancement is just a CLICK Away!”™ 

Sabrina sat on her couch in her living room with the device in her hands, and the brochure she had just read on the table in front of her. It was silver with a black display “face.” Her friend Sarah wouldn’t stop nattering on about the Wrist500, and how it had “changed her life.” Sabrina was usually extremely skeptical about such claims, but even she was impressed with how disciplined Sarah had been about her workouts and eating habits since she purchased it. Sabrina had gotten a nice bonus from her job at the accountancy firm, and had put on a few pounds in ice-cream and Netflix binging since Paul and Drake had dumped her to go off on their own. (She still couldn’t believe the bastards had the nerve to invite her to their wedding.)

It was after the New Year and it was time for a change. She had ordered the Wrist1000™ (“Enhancing You for the Holidays™”) after hearing their stupid radio commercial one too many times. The commercial had this ostentatious voice that suddenly broke into song and promised that “Enhancement is only a click…a….waaaayyyyy,” followed by a stupid sounding chime and then a clicking sound.

Whatever, Sabrina now sat there wondering whether to put it on. She didn’t like that there was a penalty for early withdrawal (so to speak), but, again, Sarah’s results were undeniable.

After a bit longer than she realized, she thought, “what the hell” and put it over her wrist and latched it shut. The state-of-the-art ClickFitSilver™ didn’t even show a seam. She picked up the brochure to see how it was supposed to work.

Instructions

…II. Booting up. Once you’ve placed the Wrist1000™ on your wrist and used the patented ClickBitSilver™ to seamlessly add it to your wardrobe, turn on your computer. The Wrist1000™’s Bluetooth™-enabled software will find your computer. Once it has identified it, press “OK” on the watch. A wizard will pop on your computer to connect between it, your Wrist1000™ and the Panopt-U-Can™ cloud-based monitoring system. This whole process should only take about 10 minutes. 

She put the brochure down and grabbed her laptop, opening it up and placing it on the table next to the brochure. She hit “OK” on the Wrist1000™ and waited. She minimized the window, and saw what she was looking at last night. Sabrina blushed. It was a “PornView” page opened to one of her favorite porn scenes. In it, a woman was commanding two men to…. Service her. What she liked most about the scene was that the woman wasn’t actually dressed in any dominatrix outfit; rather, the woman was in a business suit and was ordering her personal assistant and secretary—the two men—to do… things to her.

She checked the time on the Wizard and saw that it had about 15 more minutes to go. She grabbed her vibrator from her purse and decided to blow of some steam.

“Your performance review hasn’t been up to snuff, Malcolm. You know what that means?”

“No, ma’am.”

“You’re going to need a thorough, personal, oral evaluation.” The woman reached over to the intercom button. “James, please come in.”

A taller, darker man with impossibly broad shoulders came into the room.

“Malcolm, your review says that your ‘Team Player’ scores were far below a 69. That’s practically a fail rating. Please show James how you can improve this.”

Oh, yes. This was the best part. Sabrina’s hands were moving much more quickly now and she was nearing orgasm. She came for the first time just as Malcolm’s succulent lips touched James’ impossibly huge cock. She came for the second as the executive ordered Malcolm to lick her greedy pussy as James took poor Malcolm’s really tight ass. The third time she came was when the men made out with each other in between taking turns going down on the executive. The scene closed with a single shot of the executive catching her breath as the two men, tired from their exertions, fell asleep.

Somehow, in all of her own exertions, Sabrina failed to consciously register the Wrist1000™ give off a “click” each time she hit an orgasm, as well as one weird sounding chime. She wiped herself off and put the vibrator aside. She took a sip of some Chardonnay while she maximized the Wizard. It said “Set Up Complete. You are now ready to ‘Enhance Your Life, Today™.’ Press [Return] to continue.” She did.

The screen said, “You are ready to enter the world of ClickFit™. Tomorrow, at 6 am, the Wrist1000™’s alarm will sound which will be your notice that you will have 30 minutes to begin your workout. We’ve collected all the data we need to inform you-by the ClickFit™’s patented ClickClick™ sound- when you’ve hit the proper workout and intensity parameters. Rest well, and be ready bright and early tomorrow to Enhance Your Life, Today.™”

As she finished reading this, a bell chimed from the device. Sabrina smirked. That didn’t even make sense.

Anyhow, the set up for the Wrist1000™ must have been streamlined, Sarah had told her about having to be at the gym for an hour before the Wrist500™ was ready, and then it had to have all sorts of weird diagnostics run. She examined it closely. She liked how smooth and refined looking it was.

She downed the rest of her wine and headed to bed. The moment her head hit her pillow, a tiny bell sound went off from the Wrist1000™. She barely had any time to register it before she felt really, really, tired, and went straight to sleep.

The Wrist1000™ woke her up with a series of bells, clicks and noises that sounded like some strange dolphin and whale duet. She went to press anything on the Wrist1000™ that looked like a snooze button, but the device just kept making all the weird sounds. She decided she’d have to look at the brochure, so she got up out of bed, and… just like that, the sounds stopped. She looked at the Wrist1000™ and saw a counter counting down the 24 minutes left to when she was “supposed” to be working out.

“Jeez. I slept hard.” She yawned and found herself going to her dresser to put on clothes, grab her iPhone and head down to her gym, located just next door. Every time she completed one of these tasks, the Wrist1000™ would click. This was fine, and in keeping with what she had read about it, but she kept on getting distracted by how turned on she was suddenly feeling. She made her way to the gym anyway, but suddenly saw how good looking all the boys were in the place. She had never appreciated spandex until she saw Todd, one of the trainers, bend over in front of her. She nearly ran into a water cooler.

“What is wrong with me?” Sabrina shook her head.

She reached her elliptical just as the Wrist1000™’s countdown ended. The device chimed and then “clicked” and…. “Dear god.” She said out loud.

A wave of tension suddenly coursed through her body. She took some tentative steps on the elliptical, but the only thing she was accomplishing was feeling how good it felt when her panties rubbed against her clit. And normally, that wasn’t that great, thank you very much. She shuddered.

Todd looked up from where he was helping Mike. Todd was bent over behind Mike, showing him the proper way to do a squat. The fantasy from last night went right through her mind. She had to have an orgasm. Now. She found herself running to the bathroom, closing the door, and, with great haste and no dignity, plunging her fingers down her sweatpants. She came quickly, but… there was absolutely no relief. It was like some weird fever was overtaking her, and she had to have another one. Now. Her brain sent her fantasies of being in the gym office, ordering Todd and Mike to work their way through the Gay Karma Sutra Manuel she kept in the bottom drawer of her nightstand. She came again. Still, no relief. Now she was riding Todd, while Todd, in turn, was impaled on Mike’s cock. Yes! That! There! She came, hard, and couldn’t quite keep silent. As she came, the Wrist1000™ “clicked,” and she felt the orgasm tear away her terrible, visceral need. She tried to catch her breath as the sweat poured down her face.

“What the fuck just happened?” She said out loud.

“I don’t know, but I think you just had the best workout ever.” Came a voice from the next stall. Sabrina started. She felt her already red face flush even harder—this time from embarrassment. She got up quickly and ran out of the bathroom, not daring to turn when she heard the other stall door open. As she left the bathroom, she nearly ran over Todd coming out of the bathroom.

“Oh. Hey, Sabrina! Are you ok?”

She was about to say something, when she saw Mike right next to him doing push-ups. “F-fine. I’m not feeling well. I’ll see you later.” She ran back to her building and into her apartment.

She thought about screaming when she looked down at the Wrist1000™ and saw a 12-hour countdown “until your next workout.”

She called in sick.

She read the brochure cover to cover and realized what had gone horribly wrong. The set-up wizard had obviously taken much less time than it had indicated and had automatically started the initial set up. While she was supposed to be going through a standard workout she, instead, had been masturbating to some really hot porn. So instead of the default being set to a brisk run in the woods, the default was set to a hot and horny Sabrina.

She stared off into space for hours, wondering what to do, but exhausted from so many orgasms that morning. She fell into a fitful sleep, the brochure in her hands.

She was woken by the same weird dolphin-whale music that had woken her up that morning. She looked at the clock-only 6 hours had passed. She looked down at the Wrist1000™. The Legend “Delta Schedule 42” flashed on the screen. What did that mean?

She looked at the brochure, “Delta Schedule 42” meant “Based on your metabolic processes, the Panopt-U-Can™ has determined that you are not at work, and, moreover, you are not sick, nor does your online diary indicate that you have a travel day scheduled. Therefore, the work-out schedule has been brought forward a number of hours, to keep your regime on course.” No! She started to reach for the phone, when the chime, and then a “click” went off.

Once again, Sabrina went off like a firework. She clasped her legs together as she fell to the floor. She had never felt this horny in all of her life. She felt like she could just die. She crawled, quivering, over to her vibrator. She reached for it like a thirsty woman in the desert, and placed it between her legs.

“Three orgasms,” she told herself. “I just need three orgasms.” But nothing happened for a very long time. Sure, it felt good, but she wasn’t getting anywhere.

“Fuuuuuck,” she whined.

She thought, while keeping the vibe between her legs, and, out of desperation, she flipped open her lap top and raced for the PornView scene. She stabbed with at her pad and started playing a video on the front page. A scene with a man fucking a “cheerleader” started playing. Still, no progress. She started a different one, an amateur scene where two women were giving a guy a blowjob. Still nothing. Finally, she hit one with a woman ordering a man around a dungeon. Her clit throbbed and she felt the orgasm start to build. Ten minutes later, though, she was still nowhere close. Finally, she went to her playlist, and played the next scene in the “Executive Dominatrix” series. Now the exec (the name in the show was “Carli”) was ordering a man and a woman to fuck each other for her enjoyment.

Figurative fireworks started shooting from Sabrina’s pussy. God, yes! The first orgasm rolled though quickly. It was great, and Sabrina was ready for the need to still be there. The second took a little bit longer, but it rolled through Sabrina like a wave onto a beach. The third one took longer still, and Sabrina made it all the way to the scene where Carli is taking turns fucking each person in the couple with her enormous strap-on before Sabrina felt it.

But this time, there was no relief, no “click.”

“Fuuuuck!” She yelled. “What the actual fuck!?” And then some part of her dimly remembered something about a progression, and the “workouts” getting increasingly more difficult.

She watched Carli fuck the man in the couple while he fucked the other woman. Then forced him to watch while his girlfriend ate Carli out, telling the boy how she was going to steal her from him because he couldn’t satisfy her. Finally, as Carli was getting out the paddle and the needles, she came.

As she came, she heard, very loudly, the “click” from the Wrist1000™

She screamed for thirty seconds as her voice went incredibly, deliciously hoarse. She hadn’t even realized the vibrator’s batteries had run out. The only sound in the room was her own panting and sobbing.

After 20 minutes of recovering, Sabrina dropped the vibrator next to her. She had knocked the laptop over, along with a glass of water and most of the books on her coffee table. The laptop was a smoking wreck- the water from the glass had spilled and shorted it out. Sabrina barely registered this. She crawled to the phone and dialed.

She waited and counted the rings. Four rings.

“ClickFit™, Inc., how may we Enhance Your Life, Today™?”

“I…. I need to pay the Farewell Fee™.”

“I’m sorry, Ms….. Cantwell. But you’ll have to talk to our Customer Retention Department.”

“OK…. Patch me through to them… Now!”

“I’m sorry Ms. Cantwell, but Customer Retention has left for the day.”

Sabrina started to cry.

“You can pay online however.”

“My c-computer is gone.”

“I’m sorry I can’t help-“

“P-please. I need to talk to someone in charge.”

There was a pause. “Very well, I will transfer you to my manager. This may take a minute. You’ll have to listen to a little looped advertising while you wait, for which I apologize in advance.”

“OK. Just…. Hurry!”

She heard the line change, and then a voice: “Thank you for choosing ClickFit™. Your call is very important to us. Please stay on the line, and one of our Customer Enhancers™ will return to show you-“

And then there was that stupid jaunty little jingle as the overly ostentatious voice began to sing, “-how Enhancement is only a cliiiick…. Aaaaaa……waaaay!”

And then she heard it.

The chime.

And then the “click.”

Sabrina closed her eyes, covered her forehead, and said the only thing she could, before she lost control again.

“Fuuuuck!”

NEEHU5, A Personal Recap, Part 5, Saturday Night

Just How Many Settings Does the Sonic Screwdriver Have?

Warning: The Following is Moderately NSFW. All subjects involved have reviewed the portions they appeared in and have given their consent to describing the scenes listed below. Your mileage may vary, consult a Doctor if symptoms last more than 4 hours.  

Heading in to NEEHU I knew a few things about the people I was meeting: they all seemed (by their writings) to be very smart; they are all kinky (or at least pervy) people; and they all seemed witty and funny. But one thing I knew beyond all of that; nearly all of them are, like me, Doctor Who fans.

Sleepingirl had posted a story about how she had been hypnotized to accept one of her friends as the Doctor, and reacted to him as if he were the Doctor for the duration of their “scene.” (To her horror, and to mine as a reader, he took two different women as “companions” into the “TARDIS” at the end of the scene. Look, if you’re going to go through that much trouble, for heaven’s sake, have the Doctor take the drooling girl.)

I also knew that Ms. Mesmer was a huge Doctor Who fan, and had, at one point, mentioned being hypnotized by someone’s sonic screwdriver. For those who don’t know, a sonic screwdriver is a prop used on the show that is about 8 inches long (mind out the gutter, please) and silver and has various functions and settings. Usually it’s used to open doors or set off explosions from a distance or whatever the writers need it to do. It often has a light shining when it’s turned on, and makes some kind of whirring or buzzing noise upon activation.

Moreover, for reasons not important here, I had occasion to piece together a “War Doctor” outfit. (The War Doctor is a character created for the 50^th anniversary special, and takes his place in between the “8^th” and “9^th” Doctors. In the special, he’s played by John Hurt and he is awesome.) I had mentioned this in passing in the Hypbook chat room, and various people, including Mephki, insisted that I bring the outfit. So I did.

All of this inspired me to concoct a Doctor Who-related hypno-scenario, and hoped to get either (or both) Sleepingirl or Ms. Mesmer involved. In an episode called “The Doctor’s Wife” a Time Lord called “The Corsair” is mentioned. It’s established that the Corsair changes genders and is implied to be something of a hedonist. I had an idea that would have the Corsair “taking over” a human body for the evening. I thought it would be fascinating to see how a Doctor Who fan would react to “being” a Time Lord for a while. Beyond that general concept, I didn’t really have an idea how the scene would go; but the question was too cool to pass up, I mean, how would a hedonistic Time Lord react to taking over a human body in a BDSM club, anyway?

I mentioned it to Marc Cabot the previous day as something I’d love to do with Ms. Mesmer. He, very generously, thought it was a fantastic idea, and said he’d spend some time with Ms. Mesmer to get the proper triggers in place beforehand. We agreed that Saturday evening would be the time to do it. I had a sense, both from her writings and from seeing her around the weekend, that Sleepingirl would be fairly easy to get in the proper frame of mind. I mentioned in broad outline the idea I had, and she was agreeable, but the trick would be to catch her in and among the various shenanigans she was up to.

And so my Saturday night plan was slowly being pieced together, but before that, I was taking a well-deserved (and much needed) nap.

I was woken from my evening nap by a call from LeeAllure. She and a bunch of people, including ZanyMo, MrDream and GleefulAbandon, were headed off to a late dinner, which she said, should be “quick.” I needed to eat, and with promises of “quickness” dancing in my head, drove off through the rain to meet them in downtown Hartford. The company was nice and the food was exquisite. I found myself next to ZanyMo and across from Lee. I should mention that one of the mp3s Lee released involved a “dual induction” that she recorded with ZanyMo. We ordered a delicious bisque, which I had a taste of, and which Mo and Lee then used as the basis for a spontaneous induction. Essentially, each taste would send me deeper, and each taste was better than the previous one. I cannot describe to you my elation at finding myself living out that mp3, live, as two gorgeous women with delicious voices sent me into a mind-bending trance. So I won’t. I will say that I may have finished the bisque for them.

As brilliant as the food and company was, the service left a fair amount to be desired, and we didn’t get back to the Society until well after 10 o’clock. I was somewhat anxious about getting to my prospective play partners in time to actually play. [I understand I missed an amazing “Weeping Angel” scene led by SweetGasp. Hopefully there’ll be other chances to see that in action.]

I walked into the Society dressed as the War Doctor. Fortunately the outfit has enough leather and steam punk attributes that I didn’t feel incredibly out of place. I ran into Mephki first. She pounced on me walking from room to room, and noted that she’d be up for hanging out, but had promised to play with someone else that evening. She did say that she wasn’t sure how the sonic screwdriver would be useful.

“Well, it does have a hypnosis setting.” I replied. And I flicked it on so it made a whirring noise and shone its red light right into Mephki’s eyes, which focused immediately. I brought it down in front of her face, telling her it was actually very effective on human brains. And then, “3, 2, 1, sleep.” Her eyes rolled down and her eyelids slammed shut. She fell into trance standing up. I held her upright, and whispered in her ear that she would awaken in a few moments feeling refreshed and ready to have a fantastic time, both tonight and for the entire weekend. And I woke her up so she wouldn’t be late for her scene.

I shortly thereafter found Marc, who said that Ms. Mesmer was ready and would see me as the War Doctor. I could do my spiel, and when the time was right for the Time Lord take over, I would say “Corsair, I need your help!” and she would transition into her Time Lord persona. He had prepped her well.

I saw Ms. Mesmer kind of hiding in the corner. She looked at me incredibly shyly. It was as if she couldn’t believe I was there in front of her. It was quite the confidence boost.

“Oh, hullo.” I said in a vaguely British accent. It was an accent I was to hold on to in very nearly the way Dick van Dyke held on to his accent in Mary Poppins.

“H-hi.”

“I was wondering if you could help me. I’m… I guess you could call me the Doctor.”

“I know who you are.”

“Do you? Oh. Yes. This is the universe where my adventures are some kind of fiction for television. Ah. Well. The Time War has caused things to get all tangled up. Any way, I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

“Sure!” And she beamed the widest smile here.

“What’s your name?”

“[Mary].” (Not her real name, but, you know).

“Hello Mary. Nice to meet you. You see, I have a Time Lord friend who wants to know what it’s like to be a human being for the evening. The friend’s name is the Corsair. And he’s looking for a suitable host. And…” here I took out my sonic and waved it over her, “it looks like you have the specifications that just might work. It means that she/he’d be in control. You could stop the Corsair from doing anything you didn’t want, but otherwise you’d take a backseat and let the Corsair have the running of things. It’s a bit of an imposition, I know, but I need a favor from him.”

“No. That would be fine. I’d… I’d be ok with this. If it’ll help.”

“Thank you very much, I’m much obliged. Here, have a seat in this chair. Now this will work a little bit like hypnosis. I’ll put the right setting in.” (Here I fidgeted with the sonic.) “There, and then I’ll do a little countdown. Just stare right at it and let the sound invade your mind. And feel your mind go, 10, a little more, 9, take some nice deep breaths, 8, feel more of your own mind slipping away, 7, and leaving room for something else, 6, nice and relaxed, 5, nice and calm, 4, listening just to me, 3, and going deeper now, 2, and very soon, 1. Corsair, I need your help!” She had slipped into a nice little trance, her eyes shut, and her head fell forward on her chest.

When I said the trigger words, I let the sonic buzzing fade out a little.

“Corsair?”

She looked slightly bewildered for a moment, and then it was as if something took her over. She seemed suddenly more measured and deliberate in her gait. It was an amazing thing to witness. I took her on a tour of the Society, as she examined everything with a detached air, noting how “intriguing” everything was. Ultimately, I racked my brains to remember from her blog what were the things that she enjoyed doing. I asked her if she would like to see what it was like to be tied down, as a human, and experience some of the things we had seen. She agreed.

We went into the secondary play room, and I sat her in a chair by the wall, but away from some of the other people who were also playing in the room.

I went and asked Marc for some rope. He, lovely fellow that he is, was also in character.

“Why hello there, ‘Doctor,’ I think I have just what you need.” And he pulled out a length of rope about 18 inches long. “It’s special chrono-temporal rope, adapted from Time Lord technology. Once it’s bound together it’s impossible to break apart without the proper sonic adjustment. And I’ll loan it to you for… just a small favor.”

“Oh yes? Oh…Yes. I should have recognized you. I know you of old, don’t I?”

Marc smiled. “Why yes, yes you do. But it’s just a small favor, Doctor, the likes of which even you won’t mind.”

I sighed, “Oh, very well, a favor for a favor” and then, somewhat impatiently reaching for the rope, “Thank you.”

I brought the rope to Ms. Mesmer and explained its properties. I went behind her and tied her hands together. “This is just for safety purposes. Both yours, and, um, mine. It’s amazing, isn’t it? As a Time Lord, you could just break the string’s bonds and stand up. But as a human, you can’t. Moreover, you can feel time passing by in ways Time Lords don’t. Second by second. Can’t you?”

She nodded as she struggled against her bond. “Y-yes.”

I then clarified with her. “Now you’re not the biggest fan of pain, right?”

She replied, “It’s not too bad…..Just not too much of it.”

“All right, let’s see what your body is capable of. Did you know, for example, that humans have this thing called ‘tickling’? You can ‘tickle’ them and they’ll laugh uncontrollably. Now where is it? Oh yes. The sonic screwdriver has a tickle setting of 1 to 10. So let’s start you off at 1 and see what sort of reaction we get. Is that ok?”

As the Corsair, she nodded yes.

“All right, let’s try a tickle of 1 at your… feet.”

And I pointed the sonic at her feet. She reacted as if I were lightly tickling her feet with a feather. Giggling, but not moving too much.

“Fascinating. Let’s try a tickle setting of 2 at your knees.”

She laughed a bit harder now, and half-heartedly tried to get her knees out of the way.

“Interesting. Let’s try a tickle setting of 5 at your…. Belly.” At this, she started laughing really hard, and squirming. “Fascinating.” For a good five minutes or so, I explored every part of her body at different tickle settings (including getting explicit consent to aim at her breasts and more private areas). The biggest explosion was when I aimed it right at her head and experimented with different settings. I’d be interested to know what it felt like to have someone tickling her brain.

“Now then, let’s see what it’s like to do a different setting. Beyond a ‘tickle’ setting, I also have a ‘pain’ setting and a ‘pleasure’ setting. I understand that both can vary, and I’ll make sure not to above a ‘5’ on the pain threshold. Is that ok?”

She was catching her breath, but she agreed to this. So now I had fun switching back and forth from pain to pleasure and pointing it at various parts of her body. For a while there, I must admit I felt like a bit of a conductor. I could point the screwdriver, like a magic wand, at some part of her body, say the feeling and the intensity and Ms. Mesmer’s body would react beautifully.

Her head. “Pleasure, 8.”

Her stomach: “Pain, 3.”

Her stomach: “Pleasure, 5.”

Her knee: “Tickle, 9.”

Her feet: “Pleasure, 6.”

Her chest: “Pain, 2.”

Her brain: “Tickle 10.”

I had her squirming quite beautifully in her seat.

“You know, I’ve heard humans positively gush about their ability to orgasm. And there is an ‘orgasm’ setting on here. Apparently it sets you on the path to orgasm, it’s more intense and… sexual than the ‘pleasure’ setting, but it doesn’t get you to a climax until you hit ’10.’ Shall we try?”

Poor Ms. Mesmer was rather gasping at this point. But she found her voice, which was still relatively calm and self-assured, “Yes. Absolutely.”

“All right, then.”

And I pointed the wand—I mean the sonic—at her chest. “Orgasm 1.”

Her moan was positively delightful. There is a feeling people experience in the BDSM community called “subspace.” It can be brought about through pain or through service, or any number of ways, really. I believe I had a little bit of that when I was focused on Lee earlier that day. Less discussed, but by no means unheard of, is “topspace.” I believe I was starting to feel that at this point. There is a gratifying sense of power when you have someone being responsive to the slightest twitch of your hand.

“Orgasm 3,” and pointed at her head. Her moans grew a little louder.

“Let’s see how the body reacts when we alternate these things, shall we? Tickle 7.” And her moans turned into laughter.

“Pain 2,” and her laughter turned into a slight groan of discomfort.

“Pleasure 7” and she was sighing and moaning again.

“Let’s see what happens when we put you on the path to an orgasm, here; Orgasm 4” and I pointed it at her knee. She moaned with a somewhat incredulous look on her face. I alternated the various settings, as if I were more mad professor than Doctor. Somehow, I maintained the ersatz British accent throughout.

I brought her closer to the “Orgasm 10” setting, continually flitting through the other settings as well. I think I even invented an “8 ½” to prolong it.

And then I stopped and had another evil idea. “You know what? I am such an idiot. You’re a Time Lord! The ten orgasm settings are for humans, who are much more finicky than Time Lords. Time Lords can handle much higher settings than 10. I was wondering why this went to 100. So, this will get you prepped more and more until you reach 100. Are you ready, Corsair?”

Ms. Mesmer was shaking a little bit at this point. For a second a look of utter frustration passed over her face, and then her Corsair self took hold again.

“This is all very intriguing. Yes. Yes, I’m ready.”

And I started with “Orgasm 11” and slowly worked my way up through the 20s, 30s, and so forth. I didn’t go number by number; that would be cruel. But I did ratchet it back a couple of times, going from 67 down to 51, and occasionally flicking over to the pain/pleasure/tickle settings. Somewhere in the 70s I told her “Listen carefully. When you reach 100, when you have that massive ‘Time Lord Orgasm,’ the orgasm will be so powerful that it’s going to push the Corsair out, and bring Mary back in. For just a few seconds, Mary is going to feel the Time Lord orgasm, before calming down and returning to ‘normal.’”

Ms. Mesmer looked positively delightful and delectable as she squirmed, her arms still bound behind her. Her face had gotten flushed and her long hair drifted over her eyes. She was breathing heavily and insistently. To a person walking by, all that would be seen is a pretty girl sitting in a chair, as someone in a brown leather jacket and a weird vest and bandolier get up kept pointing a large buzzing flashing pen at her. The woman would have appeared to be moaning in some combination of ecstasy and impatience. The man was using the weird device almost like a magic wand, pointing at various parts of her body, and counting upwards, heading inexorably, though falteringly, towards 100.

I counted up, slowing down, relishing keeping her on the edge. 94…95….96…97… 98…98 ½…. 99.

She was practically vibrating in time with the sonic screwdriver.

I said the magic number. “100” and she hurtled over the edge, collapsing in a heap, bent over in the chair, her arms still behind her.

I “loosed” the bonds with the sonic, and made sure she was ok. “Mary… Mary? You there?”

She smiled brightly, though her face was more than a little flushed. “Yes. That was….” And she hid her face behind her hands.

Now, did she orgasm? Was she really feeling the tickles, the pleasure, the pain? I can’t tell you; only she can (and hopefully she will on her own blog). But I can tell you she reacted just as if she were experiencing all those things.

I sat with her for a bit, making sure that she was ok, doing my part for aftercare.

After a while, I brought her back over to Marc.

I must mention that there were a number of hot scenes going on all around me involving various people I’ve already mentioned in this blog. While I wouldn’t have traded in this scene for the world, the voyeuristic part of me was frustrated only getting bits and pieces of what was going on around me.

We ran into CCKitten, who had, I believe, caught the tail end of my scene with Ms. Mesmer. She was eager to try something with Marc and me.

“Well, CC. What is it you like? Do you like pain, or pleasure, or tickling?”

She shyly looked down. “Pain, actually.”

I glanced at Marc, who was standing there with his own screwdriver. His was the Master’s laser screwdriver. He made some comment about his being superior to mine, as you do, and I defended mine’s honor. I said to CC. “Well, how about this. Let’s set this up. I’ll set this for a pain setting of, oh, let’s say 8 out of 10, and this gentleman over here,” and I indicated Marc, “can set his cheap imitation screwdriver at a comparable pleasure setting of 8, and I’ll start at your head, and he’ll start at your feet. And we’ll see what happens.”

“Well, you know, Doctor,” Marc said, “when the waves from each of these meets in her middle, they form a resonance wave that will ultimately crescendo into an orgasm, right about here,” indicating her midsection.

“Well, of course I know that. Let’s see what this lady can handle.”

And we began. We noted that the orgasm would hit on the count of 10, and I’m not ashamed to say that as we hit 7 my sonic “gave out” (darn thing) and that we had to start over. And that as we hit 8, Marc’s laser screwdriver had a feedback issue, which meant we had to start over again. Or that, on the third go around, we encountered an unexpected time dilation effect, which meant that the count from 7 to 8 took about a solid minute in real terms, but described to her as taking a full hour. When we finally reached 10, CC exploded in what appeared to be a rather enviable spasm of ecstasy.

Sleepingirl (“SG”) herself finally showed herself, but she was a little exhausted, and was getting ready to leave. We made tentative plans to find some time to Who-play the following day, and I went to talk to Marc and Ms. Mesmer. About three minutes later, SG came back and said, “OK. I really want to, but we have to make it quick.”

So I obliged. I used the screwdriver as a hypnotic focus, and told her she would see me as the War Doctor and that how I described the screwdriver would be real to her. I woke her up and told her that I needed some help with some unfortunate experiments on the limits of the human body. I asked her what she liked, pleasure, pain, or tickling? She answered, shyly, that she liked pain these days. I said something to the effect that humans always surprised me. I explained to her about the “pain” and “pleasure” settings and that the pain setting of 5 was like a slap across the face. She sat in a chair about five feet away from me, and I proceeded to alternate between “pleasure settings” and the slaps. I felt an odd rush as I stood, five feet away, flicking my sonic screwdriver like a wand, and having SG react to each flick as if she had been struck. Moreover, each “slap” seemed to turn her on more and more. The rather glorious pained-yet-turned-on expression on her face is something I won’t soon forget.

I didn’t have permission to go beyond that from either her or her dom, so we played along these lines for just about 5 minutes. When she said she really had to go, I walked over to her, thanking her for her cooperation. I told her that the Time War was no place for a companion, but that she had what it takes to be one, and I wish I could invite her with me. I sent her back down into trance, removed the suggestions, and told her she’d have a very restful sleep that night, and wake refreshed and rejuvenated.

I bid her and CC good night, and walked over to Marc where he was describing to someone the scene we had done with CC. The person was saddened that they missed it, so Marc volunteered Ms. Mesmer to reenact the scene. We did everything the same, including the screwdriver malfunctions, the time dilation, and the fantastic orgasmic climax. I have a feeling Ms. Mesmer slept well that evening.

By this point we were about to shut the place down. I went back to the hotel and flung my sorry self to bed. It had been a fantastic evening, and, as tired as I was, it took forever to fall asleep. I had been dual hypnotized over dinner, and somehow managed to squeeze in four (4!) hot, hypnosis-related, Doctor Who-related scenes in one evening. This weekend, which had started off exceeding my expectations, had entirely been amazing beyond the wildest dreams I could imagine. And there was still one day to go.

Next- Low energy day! Playing cards with hypnotists, and winning(?)! Watch that dial! Trancy take down! Arm wrestling! Bunny tag! Smugness! Saying good-byes!

 

NEEHU5, A Personal Recap, Part 4, Saturday day

WARNING- Headed into edgy territory with the next two blogs, so if consent issues, power exchange, and off the cuff hypno scenes aren’t your thing, skip to the Sunday blog. As always, if I’ve mentioned you in a post and: (1) you’d prefer I not; (2) you think I’ve gotten something wrong; or (3) you want to send me flowers, please let me know. 

 

NEEHU5, Part 4: Saturday, Part 1.

 

“Let’s Play Master and Servant”

 

            Saturday morning was another early morning for me. Those of us staying at the hotel had fallen into a kind of routine by this point. We would slowly stream in to the downstairs area, mixing slightly with the muggles who were there for other reasons. We would sheepishly share secret smiles, thinking of half-remembered adventures from the day before as we dug into the lovely free buffet.

            I don’t recall there being much in the way of breakfast shenanigans that morning, and I believe I took SweetGasp and OneEyedStranger to the Society with me.

            One of the parts of the set up at the Society which I had forgotten to mention is that Mephki (who was a whirlwind of energy and brightness wherever she went) set up a place over by the vending tables where people could place hypno-personal ads. They could write on 3×5 cards what they were searching for, and who they were or where to find them. Not many people took advantage of this, sadly. I think part of it was that people hadn’t thought about it well enough in advance and so didn’t really pick up on the idea until late in the weekend. (I think I saw 4 or 5 cards there by Sunday.) One person who had placed a card was LeeAllure, who said she was looking for a “Hypno-Slave” to be a step-and-fetch-it for her. I was intrigued. One of the things I was looking forward to over the weekend was experimenting with power exchange, and, in fact, had discussed that with Lee the day before. I had also mentioned in passing that I was hoping to experiment with more physical experiences, if possible (seeing as I was at a BDSM club and all and, presumably, among experts) including being on the giving and receiving end of paddling or spanking or some such.

            Shortly after arriving, I ran into Lee. She and I continued a different conversation we hadn’t quite finished the day before, and we repaired to the back room, where there were a few booths. We started off discussing different induction methods. One method, she said in a teasing voice, involves getting close to a person’s ear and whispering gently, while at the same time kissing and licking that ear.

            “It’s for this reason,” she said, “that you should always have Q-tips handy to have a clean and inviting ear.”

            “Well,” I replied, “that makes me want to buy a lot of Q-tips.”

            “Now, now,” she said, “you don’t use the whole thing; just the tip.”

            And, autonomically, I responded, “. . . that’s what she said.”

            Have you ever made a domme blush? It’s a strangely empowering moment. That moment made us laugh harder than we had any right to.

We decided to talk about the classes that were coming up. For some reason, this quickly transitioned into running through the classes in quick, 5-10 second improvisational bits.

Hypnosis and Yoga: We stretched while seated at the booth.

Your First Induction: “You did this yesterday with LeeAnn.” “Yep, check.”

Hypnosis and Humor: “That’s what she said.” “Shut up.”

Ethics Panel: “Please don’t make me squawk like a chicken, please don’t ask me to strip naked. Please don’t do anything that would embarrass me outside of this building.” “Ok.” “Done. Next.”

Rapport Workshop: We proceeded to try to imitate each other’s body language. “Right, done.”

Erotic hypnosis 101: “All hypnosis is self-hypnosis.” “So all sex is masturbation?” Awkward pause. “Yeah, good enough.”

You can be a better subject: “Pynchon, I believe that you are a good subject now, and as you fall under as I bring my finger from here to here, you will find that you are an even better subject. Now wake up on 1, 2, 3, wide awake! “…Yeah, that’ll work.”

Abreactions: “So, if something bad happens, wake up from trance and ask for help?” “Well, that’s way oversimplifying….” “Good enough for now, next.”

Kinesthetic Trance: She reached across the table and grabbed my hands, swaying them back and forth and then in a circle, and then she pulled them and… I was out. “And 1, 2, 3, wide awake.”

Your hypnotic voice: “It’s actually quite simple. Sometimes you can hypnotize someone by starting off in a higher register and then slowly lowering your register into a lower timbre. Just like this….. and 1, 2, 3, wide awake.”

Acquiring a hypnotist: “Hey Lee?” “Yes, Pynchon.” “Would you be my hypnotist?” “Sure.” “OK, done.”

Non-D/S play to D/s play in hypnosis. “Oh. I saw your ‘personal ad.’ Can I be your hypno-slave for the day? I mean, what does that entail?” “Well, just attending to me during the day, making sure I make it to things on time, keeping me hydrated. Are you sure you’re up to it?” “Yes. Yes, I am.” “Then ok. This’ll be fun.” “Thanks.”

Instant inductions: “Hey Pynch.” “Yes?” <snap>…. And 1, 2, 3, wide awake.”

Basic inductions: “Wait, I have this one. Um. Your feet are relaxed, then your ankles, calves, thighs, hips, back, shoulders, arms, hands, neck and finally head and you’re asleep…. Something like that, right.” “Yep.” “Great, next.”

Blow away limiting beliefs: “So you weren’t sure you’d be a good subject when you came here right? Why is that?” “Well I thought my critical faculties would get in the-“ “Sleep!…. and 1, 2, 3, wide awake.” “…That is so cool.”

Community building roundtable: “I think there should be EEHU’s everywhere.” “I agree.”

Memory Play: I…. actually forget what we did for this one.

How to Push: And here she reached across the table and slapped me. I went into a sort of shock for a second. And then she slapped the other side of my face. I kind of looked down, to avoid her seeing my reaction, which was somewhere between amazement and befuddlement (and possibly a little turned on). She said “look me in the eyes.” So I did. And she slapped me a few more times. After about 4 times across each side of my face, she stopped. And we moved on.

 

Tangent: My reaction to getting slapped across the face

Look, this was possibly the most impactful moment of the weekend, in many ways (and if you’ll pardon the pun). When it happened, there was a moment of shock, as if the world had held still. I had several reactions. First, the (for lack of a better word) submissive part of me was really turned on. (There, I said it.). Second, the more dominant part of me was outraged, and, frankly, wanted to slap her back. I didn’t. I later asked Lee (and we did discuss this at length later) what would have happened if I had slapped her back, and she said she wasn’t sure. Probably, she said, she would have criticized the slap back and then slapped me again to show me how to do it properly. Third, the strict legalistic part of me knew that we hadn’t actually established explicit consent for her to slap me, though we had established that I was interested in pushing the envelope physically. The fourth part of me, the part that understands comedy, thought this was the funniest thing ever. In improvisational comedy, the first rule you learn is to say “yes” to things. We were in the middle of a seat-of-our-pants improv scene and she reached out to “push” me beyond my comfort zone; she said “yes” to an impulse that was edgy, and awesome. Frankly, in my opinion, that’s just brilliant. And funny. Do I think she would have done that with anyone who wasn’t in the same frame of mind as I was, who hadn’t discussed how they had wanted to stretch themselves? Oh dear god, no. But I am glad I got to do that. My only regret? Not slapping back. Because having us trade slaps for a while would have been really, really funny.

 

Hypno-scene negotiation: “So, um, you didn’t technically ask permission to slap me right there…” “Oh, right. Is that ok? Are you ok?” “Yes. And I think I want to do it again.” “Really? ‘Cause I can do that as part of an induction.” “…..I’m in.”

And this is where I realized that we had been sitting there for most of an hour and I needed to get her to the “rapport class,” since, as it turned out, she was teaching it.

I don’t want to give away the secrets of the rapport class, but it wasn’t a typical “hypnosis” class, per se. Rather, the point of the class was to demonstrate how people can establish a level of rapport with someone—and break that rapport—through simple techniques mostly having to do with body language and the like.

I stuck around for the next class, “Kinesthetic trance” taught by the lovely and talented ZanyMo. This class was fun inasmuch as it taught people how to go into trance using mostly physical movements. Once again, I served as Lee’s guinea pig, and was sent down into trance several times in a short period of time. I tried the same thing on Lee, and, although I did not send her into a trance (that I know of) she gave me some good pointers. At one point we had a brief hypno duel where we were both attempting to send each other into trance. To be fair, I had been really fractionated for most of the day, so I probably didn’t stand much of a chance, but I thought for a moment I had her going under. And then she snapped her fingers and said “sleep” and I was out. It’s not fair I tell you.

I got lunch for Lee as part of the “hypno-slave” portion of the proceedings, and then meandered around chatting with people for a while, enjoying the feeling of being around like-minded people in a safe and supportive environment.

I have to take a minute and underline again how awesome a job Mephki did in terms of organizing the event; everything was on time and there was a really broad variety of classes. Furthermore, in terms of general coordination, the selection of food was ideal; there were vegan, vegetarian, and carnivorous options (I think there were even kosher options, but I’m not entirely sure). I’ll thank her again when I finally get to my closing thoughts, but her touch was felt throughout the day. In addition to thanking her profusely, I was delegated “give the coordinator occasional massages throughout the weekend” duty. Mephki told me she enjoys massages that are actually on the painful side, which is a little like telling Usain Bolt to turn it up a notch, thank you very much.

The next class, “How to Push” was taught, not by a hypnotist, but by a fellow named “Max” who had flown in from Seattle and, I understand, conducts many classes in various BDSM concepts. This class was concerned with the question of when it is healthy (or not healthy) to push people to their limits. It was also about setting boundaries, and how to discuss those boundaries in an open and honest way. Max did several demonstrations with volunteers from the audience. In each case, Max went right up to the edge of consent. In essence, he made it clear what he was intending on doing, and gave the person a chance to raise an objection, but never actually asked for explicit consent before engaging (or in one dramatic moment, not engaging) in the activity. He included handouts which were very educational and helpful in terms of setting out the parameters for negotiation, consent, safe words, and aftercare. Even more interesting was watching Lee during this class; she was positively bouncing with glee. This was the kind of thing she likes (obviously). For my part, the legalistic part of me was very concerned; his methodology was not something I would normally subscribe to. I would have liked at least the explicit consent in the following regard: “You understand that I will be pushing your limits and it’s up to you to say when, right?” However, I suppose that by attending a class on “How to Push,” and then by volunteering, you do know that you are going to be pushed to your limits, whatever that is for you. In any event, regardless of my personal qualms, I think it was an extremely valuable, if advanced, class, and I’m glad I attended.

The following class was Wiseguy’s “Kinky Human Tricks.” For this class Lee sat just behind me. I understand that the point of the class was to have Wiseguy perform some basic hypnosis tricks on various people (doing a quiz show in which the subject couldn’t say the answer until after the time had expired, freezing someone, then moving them so they think they’ve been teleported from place to place throughout the room, etc.) I’m pretty sure that’s what went on, but Lee kept putting me under and then bringing me up throughout the class. By now I was so far gone that just by running her finger down my arm she put me to sleep. Run it up the same arm? I was awake again. I must give “good face” while under—at some point Lee brought me up and Wiseguy broke off in mid-sentence to say “Oh, what a great expression.” At least, I assume it was me; it may not have been, I was kind of out of it.

Tangent- On Being Topped by LeeAllure for the Day

LeadPrism and I had hung out for a good part of the weekend, and, at some point on Sunday he asked me what it was like to be “topped” by Lee for the day on Saturday. Somehow, we kept on being interrupted before I was able to give him my answer, so this is it.

It was really fun, to tell the truth. It’s not something I had ever experimented with in my life. The best way I can describe the experience is this: my fetlife profile name is “Herderofcats.” The reason I chose that name is because my usual experience in any group situation is to be constantly scanning the group to see what needs attending to. Is there someplace we all need to be by a certain time? Is someone not having a good time? Is there something I can be doing to get anyone anything? And that’s if I’m not even hosting the event. For the day on Saturday it’s as if all that energy was focused on one person and making sure that that one person’s needs were met. In a way, the focus was a relief; it meant that there was a lot less, paradoxically, for me to worry about. That also may have been because my tasks were relatively simple: keep cup filled with water, keep track of the schedule, and be available for trances. It was an interesting experiment to try for the weekend, and I was glad I did it, and grateful to Lee for the chance.

As for what did Lee get out of it? I’d have to leave that for her to answer, but you know how when cats play with balls of yarn? You don’t ask what the cat gets out of it.

 

[I’m leaving out some fun conversations I had during the day on Saturday with LeadPrism, SweetGasp, DrDream, ZanyMo, GleefulAbandon and Marc Cabot. I also teased Ms. Mesmer incessantly about what Marc and I had planned for her that evening. I also recall that Marc also used the “that’s not funny” trigger a couple of times on both of us. Also, apparently, my skills as a masseuse had not gone unnoticed, and the lovely LuckyAlbatross requested my services at some point to work on a few knots after her long trip. I’d go into further detail on all of these, but then this weekend would turn into rather a Proustian memoir. And no one wants that.]

After all the classes, with all the trancey ups and downs, I, somewhat ironically, needed a nap. I decided to bail on the volunteer dinner and head straight to my hotel room. I called my wife, and filled her in on my day. She said something that she’s repeated to today: I sounded happier and more “me” than I had in years. I had gone to the circus, and found at least one place I belonged. My mind… my life was opening up. And I was so happy.

 

Next time: Dinner! Bisque! Costume! Screwdriver! Scenes! More scenes! Settings! Tune in, won’t you?