NURSE JONES

The List 14 fixedup


Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage
Subject: The List 14 fixedup
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Date: 15 Nov 91 02:26:06 GMT
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Not only is my numbering system screwy,
So are my carriage returns. Sorry, the first
post of this file was missing bits.

From Nurse Jones,

Well,  the  hypnosis  is progressing.  I know,  I know,  this  is
supposed  to be something that only a qualified physician  should
do.   Possibly so. I've asked around at the hospital as much as I
dare,  and the verdict seems to be that no lasting  psychological
damage  could be done,  even by a malicious hypnotist.   I  won't
argue,  though,  we could be taking a chance screwing around with
his  sexuality,  but all the authoritative  references  emphasize
that  it  is impossible to make someone do something they  really
don't want to do.   I read one reference (by an MD,  not a  stage
hypnotist)  that said the mythology about the danger of  hypnosis
was started by psychologists as a turf-protective strategy.

References: there are hundreds. I used:
LeCron: Self Hypnotism. Signet Pub.
LeCron and Bordeaux, Hypnotism Today.  Grune & Stratton, N.Y.
Cooke and Van Vogt: Hypnotism Handbook, Borden Pub. Co., L.A.
Weitzenhoffer: General Techniques of Hypnotism, Grune & Stratton.

     All in the local library.

     We read and talked it over endlessly.  I am more afraid than
he is.   I like my men to be men.   Not Arnold Schwartzenegger or
Rambo, but not swishy either. Some of the most masculine men I've
known were S.F.  gays, oddly enough, and I don't mean the leather
set,  either.  I guess being confident enough of your masculinity
that  you don't feel obliged to demonstrate it 24 hours a day  is
my  definition of a Real Man.  Which makes _them_ more  masculine
than  the  scratch-n-burp types from back home.  I like  to  feel
protected and cared for though, and ... hell, I don't know what I
like anymore.   I'm definitely not bisexual, I discovered that in
San  Francisco,  and  relearned  it  in  the  hospital  cafeteria
recently. But I might have tendencies....


I've told J to stop reading ASB.  I'll save the fun posts for him
to read later,  but here's where I ask for specific advice, and I
don't  want  him  to  read it.  I finally  got  a  post  hypnotic
suggestion to work.  I told him he would shave twice on Wednesday
morning because his first shave wouldn't be close enough.  I told
him he wouldn't remember the session.
    He did it.  He says he didn't remember. This is really eerie.
It gave me chills. Feet still cold.


My Plan:
The  first step is to work on techniques to get him into  a  deep
trance  quickly.  There are posthypnotic tricks that speed up the
process. Right now, I spend all my time getting him into a trance
deep  enough  to give me some influence.  It seems  we're  always
going  down  stairs  and  escalators,   deeper  and  deeper,   ad
infinitum.  The  books say to gauge your success with tests  like
"You  can't  lift your arm," or "You can't open your eyes,"  etc.
They work.  I made his face numb and he couldn't feel pin pricks,
even on his lips. Or kisses on the pin pricks.
    But  before  all that we spent half a week trying  to  figure
whether anything was happening at all beyond him getting a  comfy
lie-down while I droned on at him for an hour. Twice a day now on
weekends. Actually, I'm not really sure it worked, even still. It
seems to have, but I have to take J's word for it.  He could have
been  faking,  but I don't think so.   Besides I trust  him.   He
believes it worked,  I'm sure.   Something happened on Wednesday,
anyway.
     It was weird, though, I'm tellin' ya.
     The techniques are easy,  but it's hard work.  It just takes
perseverance  and  trust  and  a little reading  and  a  positive
attitude.
    And  he  trusts me  completely:  that's  important.   Equally
important,  he has to want me to do it.

Back to the Plan:
Hypnosis   aside,   I/we  have  to  create  an  outwardly  female
appearance  for  him -- all over -- and he probably shouldn't  be
aware of the details of the process if he is going to believe it.
He has to look in the mirror afterward and see a woman.   Knowing
how  I  did  it would spoil that.   It has  to  seem  sudden  and
miraculous, even though there is a lot to do.

I'm  going  to do this from the ground up.   I told you I  got  a
corset  in  SF?  Did  I mention I got one for him?  He  sent  his
measurements without knowing why.  I hope it fits.  Mine did with
no extra fittings,  so keep your fingers crossed. And I got shoes
in his size.

I'm  going  to use a flesh-colored unitard,  padded out  to  look
feminine.  I have scads of sterile cotton wadding from supply  to
make  hips.  I  have  a selection of pastel chalks to  sketch  on
nipples,  navel,  details  like  that.  I'm going  to  try  water
balloons, guys, unless you have a better suggestion.

Wig,  makeup,  fabulous fakes,  false eyelashes, I've got tons of
that stuff. He has the face for it. He'd be better looking than I
if he were a woman.

I'm going to convince him his anus is his vagina,  and then treat
it like one. Make him a contralto. Make him walk the walk.

Keep  the  light dim,  him under strict control,  and my  fingers
crossed. But I can see that this is all a long way in the future.
I have a lot of work to do.  A lot to develop in his  head.
     And most of all,  I have to make myself feel like I'm making
him up for a play.  Or a halloween party. Not changing him on the
inside,  not down deep.  That way, maybe I won't lose my favorite
top.  He's  GOT  to go from being a definite man to a  believable
woman without ME thinking of him as anything ambiguous or icky in
between.

That's the plan, troops.  Elf mustered the shining armour brigade
to  present  medals  after the dismemberment  of  Little  Retchid

    (shame,  shame,  I  should  be magnanimous in  victory.   But
    instead I think I'll be unbearable for a page or so.  It just
    comes over me,  sometimes).

I  think,  for reasons of public health,  Elf also had to relieve
some of you of your battle trophies:  various internal organs, an
argyle sock, etc. An unruly bunch.
     Anyway,  Elf now has my scarf to tie on the end of his,  um,
lance.   And I have to ask him to muster the troops again.  Don't
just  stand there shuffling your feet in the dust,  boys.  I need
suggestions.
     Kayvan, stop fiddling with your codpiece and tell me if this
will work.
     WildCard, drop that scrotum, it's nasty. Besides, it belongs
to  Richid and you don't know where it's been.  No-one  would  be
impressed by it anyway. Battle trophies are supposed to be big.
     And pay attention,  Strider.

                           And  for heaven's sake put  away  that
                           pipe  wrench.   I don't care if it  is
                           sterile,  Richid  is in no shape to be
                           kippled. Or squicked.

     And Gweeb,  come out from behind BlackDouga and get in line.
Wizyrd will make a space for you.   I don't think I want to  know
what that is behind your back. Come on, let's see it.

Eeewww!    That's disgusting.!  Explain yourself.

      Stop mumbling and stand up straight Gweeb, or I'll put Moon
Knight in charge of you. He didn't get a piece of Richid and he's
NOT  in a good mood.  (Although I'm glad to see SOMEBODY polishes
his armor...)

               Now speak up, Gweeb. What IS that thing?

                           Arriving  too  late to get a proper trophy is  no
                           excuse,  Odor-Eaters don't count. Give it back to
                           Richid; he probably needs it anyway.

     Now the rest of you,  put on your helmets (yft, that's NOT a
helmet  and you know it.  Give Kayvan back his codpiece) and  pay
attention. Sheesh! Talk about motley. Nurse Jones needs advice on
how  to top Jay and keep his dignity so I can drop this role of a
half-pint  Brigitte Nielsen and go gracefully back to  being  the
topee.
     Maybe it's up to him to keep his dignity....... Help!

Nurse Jones,
      reviewing the troops, a butch damsel in diaphanous fatigues,
          hands on hips,
            smile on lips,
              rings on nips.

(deep breath)
Ten-HUT!
Now, boys, I want to thank you all ...

                                           My Goodness!

How on EARTH did you all manage to do that all at the same time...?

       Hmmm. Remind me not to take a deep breath next time.

Still, Elf, I'm touched by the gesture.

                           My scarf looks nice.

                                              Out there.

Wot the hell. (deep breath)

DIS-MISS... Wait!
                              I'm a top now!

Maybe I'll just leave you like this. After all, it's my post.

(giggle)

Nurse  Jones,  learning  that monogamous
                         and  monotonous
                        ain't
                              synonymous.
                            Even amongus
                       that be
                               anonymous,

who's doggerel is an insult to the entire canine world,

and who promises to be nice to Richard from now on,  even  though
he's not speaking to anyone,
                           silent
                              lurking, and
                                 anonymous behind his real name.


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