Someone on Twitter recently made a comment about my Kinky Bucket List. Honestly, it’s been a minute since I originally wrote that – I posted it in 2012! Ten years? Whew! There’s still a lot of things I haven’t done, and a lot of things that still resonate with me, but others…maybe not so much. I’ll probably need to go over it again at some point and update it; maybe revise it a bit. But if you’re interested in what kinds of kinky fuckery I get up to in my head, feel free to take a gander over there.
What I am interested in now though, what surprised (and delighted) me, was finding this on my list:
Experiencing erotic hypnosis – the ultimate scene would involve being hypnotized to believe that I have been drugged and have no control over my body, then to be used by several men, unable to move or help myself.
I had told K in one of our early hikes that I was interested in it. I’d seen it on his Fet profile after I’d met him in our kinky hiking group and I had wandered over to Fet to find out more about him. Just about every nerve ending stood bolt upright when I read that he was into it. But it still felt…transgressive…to talk to him about it. I had to steel up the nerves to do so. Erotic hypnosis – hypnokink – has been a hot button for me since the very beginning (as evidenced by my Kinky Bucket List!) But none of my other partners had been interested in it. (Now I am wondering where that book I bought V on the topic is…) To actually be talking to someone that was actually interested in the topic? Maybe not just interested, but practicing it??
God I wanted him to fuck my mind. (Just typing that makes me throb, makes me ache, makes me catch my breath.)
And now…now he is. Now he does. Fuck my mind. Now I am in a relationship in which hypnosis plays a large – a very large – part. K incorporates erotic hypnosis into our relationship, for play and deeper aspects of (consensual) conditioning and control. No, we haven’t played out the fantasy above (if that would even be possible) but we’ve played on some every hot edges and he’s trained(?) conditioned(?) me to orgasm on command, without any stimulation (except him in my head – which is really freaking stimulating, lol.)
I’ve spoken before about how keyed I get to my Dominant when in a D/s relationship. His desires become mine, his fantasies become mine. I am not subsumed by him, but I get so deeply tied to him that even when I don’t want to get turned on by the shit that turns him on, I do. It wasn’t until I started talking to K about hypnosis that I began to see a connection between allowing – maybe even wanting – myself to be conditioned by my D/s partner in this way and the things I find incredibly compelling about hypnosis. I’ve realized that I probably have a “very serious” kink for it. (Surprising to no one I’ve ever talked to about it, and K least of all, lol.)
So, here we are. Me, in my dining room writing to you, hot and bothered just thinking about him in my head, fucking my mind…controlling me; conditioning me this way. You, out there, probably wondering, is it real?
I can’t speak for anyone else’s experience. Sometimes I can barely find the words for my own. I could turn this into an argument about the nature of reality… What is “real”? We perceive everything through the filter of our minds… everything. So if he is between my legs, but not touching me with his hands, or cock, or anything else…and my mind is open to him, my subconscious, below the level of my thinking mind…and he is telling me that I am feeling him fucking me, feeling his cock press against my opening, feeling him pushing inside me… And I do, I feel him rocking against me, the weight of him, the pressure of him inside me…and my mind is telling me that these things are real… How is that any less real than my mind telling me that the sky is blue or water is wet?
Or if we are walking down a busy pathway to the river, and he tells me that I can feel the Lush inside me, feel it buzzing, as we walk, and my mind tells me that I can…
There is a part of me now that is always open, always receptive, waiting to listen to him. To what he says to me, to what he doesn’t say, to what he wants, to what he tells me my body is doing, even if it is not something I am aware of actually doing until I am already there. I think, during our extended times together, that I am falling in and out of trance the whole time. I find myself focusing on the tracing of his fingers on my skin, or the sound of his voice, or his eyes, and suddenly I am there…tho it doesn’t feel sudden. It feels like a slow, dreamy slide into a place of waiting. Waiting to be commanded, to be controlled.
And I love it there.