#hyponosis

The thing that most people miss is that there aren’t just post-hypnotic suggestions, there are pre-hypnotic suggestions as well. If you tell a room full of people who have never been hypnotized before that “most people tense up their right hand when they are hypnotized,” then that is what will happen.

So if you make super-duper sure that every medium takes your trance class where you tell them how bad your gods are, and how they do this and thus during trance, and how you therefore need all of these special rituals and techniques to stay safe, it’s a pre-hypnotic suggestion which then manifests when they next enter a hypnotic state.

Worse, if you teach people to fear their own natural trance states (which we enter and exit naturally — like during ‘highway hypnosis’ or whenever we space out) then when a person dissociates for too long, they might imagine they’re being possessed, and then you have a person in crisis, and there are so many of them at this point that — hell, may as well charge money for a ritual cure, or books about how to deal with this now-common problem, or classes about trance safety and warding, which only serves to reinforce the fear, which in turn generates more problems.

And of course, some people perpetuate this unknowingly. It's their reality, now, and leaving it would require the assistance of more than just a priest.

But mark my words, somewhere back up along the line there was a bastard who did it on purpose as a cheap power grab. They're the people who will say 'our gods need to be controlled' out of one side of their face and 'if we decide trance makes us healthier, it will' out of the other. They get it, and they are perpetuating a narrative of toxicity anyway.

The part of me that is listening agrees, groaning softly in the affirmative even as the rest of me is drifting far, far away.

My Lady has put me in trance before. I’ve listened to her files more times than I can think of. She’s sat with me on a couch and talked me down in hushed whispers, her fingers dragging lightly through my hair as she murmurs instructions. She even sat in a parking lot with me in my car, not long ago, and rewarded me for helping with her holiday shopping with a new trigger, but this is very, very different.

We lie side by side in bed, her hands sliding up and down my bare chest, and I groan softly as she toys with a nipple, reinforcing her soft murmur of “Pleasure” in my ear as I arch and gasp, a moan caught in my throat.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been laying with her. Shifting positions periodically, waking up just enough to find her lips with mine, nuzzling her side and trailing kisses along her arm, drunk on her flesh, drugged by her scent.

Deeper and deeper, I sink down into trance, coming back up just to fall further down.

My brain is disconnected at one point, leaving me a happy, giggly mess. When I blink back into full awareness she checks in, making sure I’m comfortable, asking me to drink some water, and we shift again.

She likes seeing me get worked up before letting me slip away again, and each time I swim back to awareness I smile goofily at her, murmuring a soft hello.

“You’re such a good girl,” she praises me as I blush and nuzzle closer.

“That’s all you ever wanted to be, isn’t it?”