Blank Aspen

obviously the pink words stood out. that made it easier to skim down the post and pick them out or read only the pink ones if she wanted to. of course she read them just as easily as the regular text. she knew they were just regular words. with some basic text editing she could make them herself, a little post gimmick. cute. use it to make the girlies feel extra girly. she was sure that other girls reading the pink text knew it was really no different than regular text too though, even as it felt different to read, even past the point they didn't have to decide to keep reading. did you read that right?

"I've read pink text so many times. it's just words", she said to herself, trying to convince herself of something.

still, right now she was exactly the kind of bored and attentive it took to scroll and read and follow along and it was easy to keep reading. she relaxed her shoulders. she slowed her reading pace.

even as she read on, the girl knew what this would be. the paragraphs would go on and on about how pink text and the intent behind it tickles a special nerve in her body and that even though the tingles will start small, difficult maybe to even notice, that once they start tingling in your spine enough to cause a little shiver, that it's an easy route to your brain stem and your submissive buttons and so forth, until through repetition the pleasure from complying with the pink words attaches itself to the repeating patterns of your mind, encouraging thoughts that are more and more likely to bring more pleasure, becoming a self-reinforcing thing, a virtuous cycle. she'd read all this before of course, like she was sure it was possible but ..really? just words that are pink? she sighed, so unsure. her breath deep, curious how this would play out. would it be boring? would it end with pleasure? her mind wandered until it found a little bit of tension in her face and, consciously or unconsciously, she relaxed it. she slowed her reading pace.

for a moment she thought it was odd to be reading about reading, or even to be a girl reading a story about a girl reading a story, but then she remembered it's not that much different than it is to think about thinking which is a like totally normal thing for her to do, thinking a thought with each word, repeating the words she reads in her mind, with her mind's voice. whether or not she intended too, she found herself sometimes repeating the words in her inner voice as she read. she slowed her reading pace. she focused her attention. her used her inner voice and enunciated the words a little more carefully and a little more automatically.

the girl stared at her monitor. now she wondered inwardly how long it had been since she realized she was just reading without thinking about reading, or speaking in her mind's voice without doing so on purpose, but once she understood how she was following and had let go of needing to understand how you were following, then this release of tension washed over her in a lovely warm peaceful kind of good, feeling these feelings of focus and release and knowing they are just so lovely, just breathing and noticing the doubt just dropping away. she heard herself speak the words in her mind. she slowed her reading pace.

she slowed her voice until she

was reading just

a word or three

at a time

and this was a

good

pace

for a Good

Girl

to

Drop

Down

And

Breathe

a whole

breath

slowly

and

Feel Pleasure

she then breathed in almost sharply as a bright pink Spot formed in her S e n s o r y A w a r e n e s s

and pressed her eyelids open or closed for only a moment-   and  -blink again open and remember pink. happy.

she breathed in again

and paused at the end of the line to breathe out  ·  ·  ·  · good

and she found it so easy to drop to these words. the girl was pretty good at trance, pretty good at following because she wanted to, pretty good at noticing that feeling halfway between bewitched and focused and horny when you Drop without really planning to.

and the girl read,

you will repeat these words using your inner voice

and she was like what?

she was like normally when i read text i sort of hear it in my head right? like everyone does this sometimes right? but when it's pink text, it's her saying it. that girl. that girl. every time I read some pink text, it's like i hear the words in that voice and sometimes im like ugh it's you again and sometimes im like this is dumb and sometimes im like yay pink words i love pink pink is so pretty i feel so good when i read the pink words i wanna do what they say lol

she glanced over the sentences. tried it out. when you're aware of the intent, it's awkward, isn't it? how much do I try? how much do I fake it til I make it? skeptical as she was, a part of her really wanted it to work, of course. who wouldn't want to feel pleasure on command? but at first when she read the pink words, it hardly felt like anything. and now?

Now, read these pink words.

Read each line three times.

good girls obey

and for a moment, girl second-guessed herself, before her eyes moved back to the words as many times as it took to obey.

and to be clear, it wasn't first time, and not really even really the third time but, reader, the girl found a time that she felt unexpectedly exquisitely good when she obeyed those simple words.

Scanning down she read some words that said,

Now, reader say "these words" in your mind just a little differently than "these words", and perhaps she did say them differently, or perhaps she tried not to, and realized just what a puzzle it is to try to say some words more differently or less differently in your own head and she would be excused for giggling at the thought

she breathed in and out quickly. it was almost a sign of continued disbelief, almost of bratty disapproval. almost a pout across her lips.

Her voice unexpectedly leaving her mind out through her lips, audibly, "It's just lazy hypnosis…", speaking this Now.

She almost paused and laughed at the thought, both because she knew a few lazy hypnotists' tricks herself, but also she didn't really remember saying that out loud on purpose. it was worth reading closely anyway, to absorb some of the technique. it didn't matter that some of the text was randomly pink text, sometimes for reasons and other times for no reason at all. she liked learning hypnosis. learning feels good. the girl repeated the words she read using her inner voices and it was so easy for this to become a u t o m a t i c. all it took was a read or three.

Feeling better and better on every repetition

Read these lines three times

good girls obey

at this point the girl had read pink words feel good enough that she realized she was wet, and decided it couldn't hurt to touch herself about it. so what if it was silly to feel good by obeying a story, her fingers and her mind felt too good for that to be important to a girl like her right now.

and reader you might imagine all sort of girly things that she would succumb to, that she might masturbate to the thought of becoming a doll that gets brainwashed, or turned into a mindless pink fuckpuppet that all the edging would turn her into or the ways she would debase herself for attention or for pleasure, but in this story she simply stares at a screen reading and feeling, the girl is reading and feeling, as she slowly succumbs to the pink, as she surrenders to the little loops that she wears in her brain. and she knows that reading and language is a pathway into her mind. and she knows that she is safe. she knows that her mind has tremendous power to create her mind's experience, that words and thoughts can so easily create feelings, sensations, cravings, can make her moan, can make her whimper. she knew this but she kept reading.

This paragraph will fuck your mind. she read the first sentence and read on anyway. so when the sensation of pressure grew, like the feeling of a finger pressed onto that spot on your forehead, she shouldn't have been surprised. the sensation of a finger on your forehead. by this point, she knew she was a good girl. and when she got to take breaks in the regular text, it was almost a relief. obey. good girl. imagine that pressure or memory of a pressure finger on your forehead is a bright pink energy, fixated there in that spot on your forehead glow pink pressure finger on your forehead. imagine that pink energy growing brighter, deeper, and much more powerfully pleasurable and arousing. and i wonder if you can experience that pleasure moving inwards, into your head, the pleasure is moving inside your head, deep, pink, pleasure, and out. glow. there are pink words parting the lips of your head and your mind. and you know this and you don't care and you care like It's Everything just back out now resting on your forehead. and back in, in, in, Deep, and out. breathe. and in, pink pleasure pressing deep inside your head, out, and in, and out, fucking your inner sensory mind, deep, filling you, fucking your thoughts, overriding your inner voice, pink thoughts fucking your mind, pink pleasure fucking your mind, Good Girl, you're taking these words like such a good girl, Fucking. Your. Mind. Hard. Until. You

and Blink now and it's gone. the feeling disappearing from the body with a passage of another single word.

and the girl let out a small squeak of a moan at the sudden loss of Something Deep her heart was pounding she was feeling a most curious feeling and the realization that she is a good girl– she catches her thoughts- no the realization that the pink words felt like something was almost enough for her to feel that Pleasure again on this very word

Now.

And in this story, she did.

as her eyes traced the curves of those simple pink letters, the clench in her mind led to a thrust in her hips and a shock like pink lightning connected her brain to her clit and and this giggly happy pink pleasure tore through her again and again.

hungry for more of this pleasure, the girl glanced up to read that one word again but the sensation didn't repeat, her disappointment obvious as she found out it doesn't work that way. that sometime the pleasure has to stop. try as she might, simply reading that one word again in its isolation didn't bring the same level of orgasmic pleasure. it was something to do with the reading. it was something about the starting over again.

the creeping thing that the girl both knows and is still realizing is that the reading is not separate from the story. empathy, role projection, anthropomorphization are all subconscious processes that simply happen with the kind of careful attention that you put onto the pink words whether you read these sentences slowly and carefully and still even if your eyes dart from pink words in this paragraph to pink words in that paragraph building your own little magnet poetry suggestion. she knows your fates are linked. the girl blinks at the screen while reading and reading feels good.

"fuck"

the girl said, and another girl did too.