From: [email protected]
Subject: Nurse Jones on hypnosis and I forget what else...
Date: 13 Nov 92 00:33:44 GMT
From Nurse Jones,
Someone posted a pessimistic note on hypnotism recently. Plus
everybody and his brother has been asking me about it.
SO: to the people that e'd me... We still do it, but it takes a lot of
time and we discovered after the excitement of the first experiments
began to wear off last year that it takes a lot of effort to keep any
effect going for a long time. We had kind of hoped that getting
started would be the time-consuming part, but even with Ericksonian
time compression of the induction it still consumes a lot of time. We
bottomed out in the hypnotism department sometime last summer.
But! To the pessimist who thought you would be too relaxed to have a
sexual experience: not true. Especially not with posthypnotic
suggestions, but not even while under hypnosis. It is a state of
extreme concentration, but relaxation need be no more than a path to
that focused state. On the other hand, I only have practical
experience with two people (well, three, counting me) and since last
Spring I have learned that your mileage *certainly* varies.
Neets, my OSO, is nearly impossible. With her I can't get near a
posthypnotic suggestion. In fact I can't get anywhere at all with her.
I have spent *hours* and *HOURS* on her. I guess I was lucky with Jay.
Or he with me. Live and learn.
I read up on the subject of susceptibility to hypnosis, even. And my
research seems to fit our situation: Jay and I have no trouble
hypnotizing each other, and neither of us has a hangup over control.
Well... Jay plays with controlling *me* and I play with *being*
controlled, but neither of us feels the need to have absolute control
over our *own* bodies at all times. I think Neets does. I think she
afraid that if she relaxed her molecules would come apart or
something. And that unwillingness to relinquish control probably has
something to do with my inability to get through to her in the same
way I have to Jay.
So anyway.
I do have a few unposted posts on things hypnotic that we have done
but they are buried somewhere in the disorganized stack of diskettes
that had to substitute for my Turing Diary while I was between
accounts. I'll post these when I find them.
Wait, Wait! I almost forgot! I can tell you about a party I went to
where hypnosis played a role. Well, it wasn't much of a party, but
there was a moment. And it has to do with hypnotism. Sort of.
I don't know if any of you remember, but *ages* ago I wrote about a
little trick Jay does. It's about the only posthypnotic suggestion
that we still work on. He has fixed my head so that every time I put
on lipstick I am ... aware (?) of my Other Lips. When I put on
lipstick I feel the same lipstick-putting-on stroking sensation Down
There in sporting goods. It's not like I turn into a raving maniac and
throw myself at the nearest convex object or anything. It's just a
mildly erotic sensation of being touched. A kind of awareness. Not
quite a tickle, not quite foreplay, but it definitely gives me That
Feeling.
So anyway, Jay and Tom and Neets and I were at this party. I guess I
should explain to the newbies that I'm married to Jay and have a thing
going with Neets. Who also is married and ... um ... I'm getting off
the subject. Anyway, the four of us are pretty close friends, and it
shows. It can be confusing to people who are concerned about figuring
out what label to stick on us.
Ok. At the party there was a line at the bathroom and I had to sit on
the sofa and fix my face. There I am putting on my lipstick in a
little hand mirror and I get the rather blurry impression that this
man is watching me from the other room. Blurry because I am
nearsighted and I was giving my eyes a rest from the contacts. So I
fish out my glasses and take a brief peep and sure enough, he *is*
stealing surreptitious glances at me.
I suppose I should make this clear: it's not like the effect of Jay's
little posthypnotic suggestion *shows* when I'm putting on lipstick. I
mean, I'm *sure* I hide the fact that I'm feeling these interesting
sensations. Almost completely. I mean, you'd really have to know me.
But he was watching me anyway. I'm sure it was just a coincidence. I
asked Neets about this and she said, "Yeah, right. Sure. Like no-one
would ever know. Sure. Right."
Well, Neets knows me well enough to recognize the symptoms, so how
would she know what other folks think?
Anyway, I'm afraid I hammed it up a bit when I realized he was
watching. This is embarrassing. I mean, it's not like I drooled at him
or anything. I just did the things you normally do when you put on
lipstick: Do lower lip. Maybe a little more slowly than is absolutely
necessary. Press lips together to do upper lip. Check mirror. Blot.
Check teeth. Run tongue over front of teeth even though there wasn't
any on them. Check to see if he is still watching. Moisten lips. Pout
slightly at the mirror to make sure everything is in working order,
lipwise. Verify that he caught that part.
He did. Men. It's so easy, sometimes.
Okay, so later .... Wait! I forgot to tell you. My sartorial
arrangememts for the evening were a little unconventional: they
included a few hints as to my sexual predilictions. Nothing *obvious*
mind you. Just a tiny trail of breadcrumbs so the like- minded could
find me if they were so inclined. Besides, I didn't have a choice. Jay
had dressed me. Or parts of me.
So later that evening this guy strikes up a conversation and it turns
out he's kind of cute, straight as Donnie and Marie, and "intrigued."
You know: the way they are sometimes when they are embarrassed to
admit that they want lessons. I ended up teasing the poor fellow a bit
(Ask Michael Feely. I'm too embarrassed to explain...not that I mind
being embarrassed -- you know how I get -- but I'd rather Michael did
it to me... with his SO's permission of course).
Anyway, Mr. Straight had taken note of the 5 piercings in my ears and
I had just turned the screw a notch tighter by batting my eyelashes
and telling him that we did my *eighth* piercing at home.
So he's ogling my miniature padlocks (and adjacent real estate) and
trying to figure out where the other three piercings are and who,
exactly, "we" are when Anita comes over and embarrasses the complete
and total absolute hell out of me and confuses the poor guy even more.
I can't take her anywhere. She told the guy practically everything,
according to Michael. Again, ask Michael. He'll explain.
Oh hell. Don't ask Michael. He'll *tell* you.
I better tell you instead. I had these really cute little padlocks
that Jay found somewhere. They were dangling over my heels, locked to
little chains that held my shoes on. *Not* comfortable shoes. I had
turned around to show him and he was looking a little north of my
actual shoes (tight knit dress) when Neets comes over and slaps me on
the butt and tells me to stop showing off. And THEN she asks him does
he want to know where the key to the little locks is. Well, I mean,
really. I had a few choice words with her, I can tell you. The trouble
is she wouldn't stop laughing. She thought she was being *so* cute.
She's such a bitch sometimes. And believe it or not, she expects *me*
to top *her*! Do you believe that? And then she goes and does
something like that.
And of course Michael Raymond Feely, Romantic Mystical Rational
Cynical Sweetypie, (did I leave one out?) *still* hasn't told me
whether Neets spilled the beans to this guy or not. I don't even know
whether to be retroactively mortified or what. Neets, of course, says
she's completely innocent, but Michael seems to know more about this
whole thing than I do.
*Somebody* told *someone* *something*. And it wasn't me....
I dunno how I got onto the subject of padlock keys. I started out on
hypnosis somewhere up there.
Oh well. You know how I get. Sorry about the memory dump.
Nurse Jones,
I *do*
have a few
unexpressed
thoughts.
No, really.
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