Public Universal Boyfriend

the initial stages of their eyes unfocusing, when they still don't know what's happening, then the brief moment of surprised recognition before they fall so inevitably to your words alone?

What I love the most is when the slight shock sets in, not quite understanding the how and the why behind their relaxation, but knowing how good it feels and giving in anyway.

the only reason they drop so easily to those nice, pretty words and a soft, soothing tone is because they trust you as a hypnotist to take care of all their thinking for them. the how and why is completely irrelevant to their role at that moment.

After all, they don’t need to do much else but lay and relax. It’s all that’s needed and it’s all that shall be done, for it’s all they want to do. There’s no need for anything else when there’s pretty words dancing around in their ears, covering up what thoughts may still lie.

especially when the thoughts we provide for them to think only make them feel better and better.

I wonder how deep a subject could go should they be given a nice little thought loop to keep their empty mind occupied? I do have something in mind that goes,

the more you listen, the less you think

the less you think, the deeper you sink

the deeper you sink, the more you listen

and maybe they go so very deep that that would be too many words to remember. maybe it would have to be simplified, to better remain in their simplified mind.

listen more, think less. think less, sink deeper. sink deeper, listen more.

Listen more, think less. Think less, sink deeper. Sink deeper, listen more.

Of course whatever words just so happen to slip by their brain wouldn’t be important.

After all, that would hinder those pretty words fumbling from their lazy lips.

So they could keep repeating and repeating as long as they wanted.

Like an infinite loop of repeating and sinking, thoughtless and brainless intersecting to create that magic high they crave so deeply.

They don’t need to understand it, just to accept it.

That beautiful ebb and flow they can’t help but get sucked into, just taking them further down into the cycle, into their mindless abandon for all that was before or will be.

At least, for now it’s all gone.

every end of each cycle functioning to begin it anew each time, repeating itself until there's nothing left to repeat

until their mind is so blank that every thought just slips out the moment it's placed inside

That perfect euphoria where no worries are had, no problems or stresses. Just pure ecstasy.

Lulled within every nook and cranny of their mind lies another line of that mantra, still looping within.

They’re not simple words any longer, they’ve become so much more.

They’ve become everything.

That constant loop of whatever’s left of their silly brain collapsing and consuming itself while each repetition only drives them further into the loop, further into that infinite cycle.

it reminds me of something that happens a lot when learning how to code.

loops are a big thing in writing a script, especially when I've made little text adventures made with (poorly written) python. the loop is the thing that continues the program, until its user decides to let it end.

but sometimes the programmer makes a mistake, and the computer latches on to a single output, repeating itself over and over and over, helpless to its infinite nature until the programmer has to force it to

stop

just as the subject, with their perfectly looping mantra, repeats that same output, that same suggestion

that same command into infinity

not by mistake, but deliberately for this context, to let the infinities compile on top of each other until their mind is overloaded with its endlessness

at the mercy of their hypnotist to know when to step in

to force that infinity to

stop

the relief from the cacophonous echoes of the mantra, continuously calling them deeper into the abyss, enough to short them out completely in its sudden absence

That’s why the mantra is so powerful, the absence of it shows its potential.

Within the emptiness lies only the subject, their mind askew and unshackled by the burdens of the world, allowing themselves to enjoy what has become of them.

They don’t know how.

They don’t know why.

But they don’t care.

Because they know what’s happened.

They know how they feel.

And so now, by the end of their journey, they lie in ecstasy, only awaiting the next words to echo throughout their brain to guide them forward.

For now however, they’re perfectly content with that blank stare on their face.

infinity, or void.

whether their mind is hollowed out, open to the echoes of faraway mantras that are more audible in the total silence

or saturated with our words so completely that their mind submerges itself deep in the depths of trance

the differences between the concepts becoming what makes them so similar

combining and building to loop on their very existence.

making sure they always know exactly how to get right back to where they belong

many fathoms below the surface, drifting

waiting

so patient because it's so easy to wait when each moment they spend like this feels better and better the longer it continues

until it's time to be gently

pulled

back up