Author Style & Preference: I am a university-educated individual with no criminal record. Personal experience and expansive research have taught me that human sexuality and psychology are beyond complex. It may not surprise you that many men have rape fantasies regardless of any inclination to act on them. It should therefore come as no great shock that women can have fantasies of being raped without the desire to literally endure the experience. It is an unfortunate fact that reality rarely lives up to fantasy. Research has also shown that communities with open access to artificial outlets for base desires, such as erotic media, exhibit a marked reduction in actual sex crime.
I’m not interested in soft erotica. I don’t like mind control stories with a moral, or a timid manipulator whose real goal is to redesign the woman of his dreams to love him. If we can’t explore our darkest desires in anonymous literature, then where can we? I don’t necessarily speak as a man who wants to fuck without social or moral restraint, but a woman who wants to be mind and body fucked by the most utterly self-confident, shamlessly dominant male alive. Even women who would never show weakness can secretly be titilated by the thought of such a self-posessed man. What feelings may be aroused in a very intelligent woman who is used to being in control to discover a rare intellectual superior? She would never allow herself be belittled, but what if she could be put in her place by a man whose dominance was purely psychological?
I also don’t care for extensive story development; that is not the purpose of erotica for me. Neither am I significantly interested in description beyond the purpose of setting up the basic framework of a scene and establishing the psychological stakes. The reason for this is that everyone’s sexual preferences are vastly different and the more perimiters you include the more readers you alienate from intimate engagement in the plot. It is best to let the reader use his or her own imagination to supply excluded details—especially, I think, in erotica.
Finally, I am a fairly pragmatic personality and I respond best to believability. Therefore my prop will be predominantly hypnosis as practiced by relatively ordinary human beings. I want to maintain the illusion that the scenarios are not /entirely/ outside the realm of possibility. I also get as much, if not more, from the process of taking control as from taking advantage once control is secured. And finally, an important distinction: all those stories of ladies being reprogramed to consciously love and cater to the male anti-hero don’t do it for me. I like to see an intelligent woman who would never debase herself HYPNOTIZED unconsciously into utter, mindless, unmitigated subservience. Just like in the classics.
This is what you can expect from my stories and this is what I would like to see in yours.
Author: Absolution
Title: Cultivate Your Mind
Summary: A skilled hypnotist enters a store and samples the merchandise.
Traci and Jennifer giggled to each other, exchanging glances as Eric left the store. Traci knew that Eric was Jennifer’s type and loved to tease her good naturedly about it. Jennifer was too flush with excitement to have been momentarily blessed by his presence to mind. Eric was short but athletic. Muscular, but with pretty boy blue eyes and golden locks that framed his face and glinted in the sun. He was a bit of an idiot and a goofball. A male bimbo, as Traci liked to say. His words were never eloquent or clever, but he was always smiling. A big toothy grin that gave Jennifer a thrill. He was handsome and approachable. And truthfully, she liked the fact that she felt at least a few steps above him intellectually. This wasn’t a guy who was gonna talk down to her. No, he needed taking care of.
Traci finished counting her register and grinned devilishly at Jennifer. “It’s that time.”
Jennifer groaned.
“Seniority rights,” Traci chirped. “You’ll get there.” She slapped the droor shut with a finalistic clang and tossed her apron on the counter. “Catch ya later”. Jennifer just grumbled as she watched her friend disappear into the ebbing hours of daylight, wishing she didn’t have another hour to spend before she could close up shop. Business was always painfully slow at this time of day. She sighed and wilted into a slump, resting her arms on the counter as her eyes lazily scanned the room. She startled slightly as her eyes came to a halt on a man’s chest, not two feet from her face. Straightening up to meet his eyes, she flashed her customer courtesy smile, tinged with just a bit of embarassment. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
The man’s lips stretched like taffy to form a slow, thin smile. “No. You did not.”
Something at the back of Jennifer’s neck prickled, but she brushed it off with a laugh. “Okay... Well let me know if you need help.”
The man just smiled that rigid smile, and his eyes seemed to be gloating, as if he knew things that she didn’t. She was starting to become offended. He said nothing, but continued to look on her, his eyes taunting. Jennifer had had enough. If there was one thing she could not tolerate it was egotistical pricks. This guy looked about forty and probably assumed that he was her intellectual superior. But Jennifer started college at sixteen, and resented being treated like an ignorant fool just because she was still a teenager. Or because she was a pretty girl. She was far more than a pretty girl, and someday everyone would know it.
Her smile now hung on her face as false as if she’d tacked it in place. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to leave now. Jim and I are about to close up shop for the night.”
Suddenly the man laughed. A single, halting note. It startled her to silence. He let another beat of silence hang in the air before correcting her. “Jim is not here, Jennifer. But I admire your effort.”
A chill curled down Jennifer’s spine and coiled like a snake around her heart at the sound of her name and the uselessness of her lie. Her fingers slid imperceptibly closer to the button beneath the counter that would trip the alarm.
“Be still!” It was a command, delivered with as much emphasis as a warning note, and Jennifer was so shocked that she froze without thinking. Her heartbeat fluttered with the fury of a hummingbird’s wings and her eyes went wide. For a moment, her annoyance at the man was forgotten as she wondered at the meaning of those words. What was happening? But his features which had grown stern were once again softening. Her shoulders relaxed. Had she misjudged him? She sighed as she felt the surge of adrenalyn receed from her forehead and fingertips. She waited for an explanation. When none was forthcoming, she raised her eyes again to his face. He spoke: “That’s it. There, there.”
She nearly bristled again at the condescention in his tone, but his smile was warmer now. Maybe she had been too harsh. Carefully, she reappraised him. He was a large man; not muscular, but broad. The kind who could cast a shadow and rule through intimidation. Not that Jennifer would be intimidated. Nor would she stand in any man’s shadow. He had angular features, too sharp for her taste. Not that it mattered... he was too old to matter in that way. But nonetheless, there was nothing of him that she cared to linger on. Now that her fear had passed, she was quickly beginning to weary again of his presence. But she tried to play it calm. She laughed again and brushed her hair behind her ear. “Anyway, I really am closing up now so...”
“That’s a good girl,” he cut her off. Jennifer’s eyes widened again and her pride flared with indignance but she beat it down. She started to slam a hand down on the counter but he caught it. Her hand rested gently in his. He didn’t grip her hand but cradled it, stroking the soft underside of her wrist with his large thumb. Again she was so stunned she didn’t know how to react. “That’s it,” he said again.
For some reason she hadn’t pulled her hand away. The blood was rushing to her head. She was staring at her wrist where his thumb was rubbing it but now she lifted her eyes to his again. He spoke so softly it was hard to be afraid. Hard even to be incensed. When she openend her mouth, her words also came out a whisper. “What are you doing?” she asked weakly. She tried again to smile but it never quite reached her lips.
Slowly, he closed the gap between them so that he was standing directly before her, still staring into her eyes. Or staring through them. His distant gaze made her eyes lose focus. She could feel the heat from his body and the warm breath from his mouth. His thumb was still rubbing slow circles against the inside of her wrist. When he spoke, his voice was low. Firm. Absolute. “I’m going to hypnotize you, now.”
In her head, she jerked away from him. In her thoughts she yelled and twisted out of his grasp. But a heartbeat later she realized the thought hadn’t translated into action. Now she wondered why and what to do about it. She knew she could move. She knew she could yell out. Why didn’t she? She wanted to. She wanted to and she knew there was nothing stopping her. Was it morbid fascination that made her hesitate? Surely, that was it. Too reckless for her own good. Stupid!
“That’s right,” he said again. “It’s time to put you to sleep.” He still rubbed her arm, and her jacknifing emotions had made her feel dizzy and limp. “You’re going to fall asleep now like a good little girl. You are just a helpless little girl, getting. so. sleeeeeeepy.”
With an effort, she recovered her voice. “Are you crazy?” With a feeble surge of effort she tugged on her arm but he didn’t even need to tighten his grip to maintain his hold. Jennifer knew how to defend herself, but she was still... just a little curious. That was why, she told herself. “What are you talking about?” Jennifer had seen hypnosis on tv, but that was the extent of her knowledge. She didn’t believe in mind control. She didn’t know why people acted like that. She wondered a little, but she assumed people needed little excuse to behave like idiots. Anything for attention. This guy must be off his block.
“Shhh,” he said. “That’s it. Feel it now. The energy draining from you. Pulling you heavily down. Leaving you empty. Sleepy. Deeply. Sleepy.”
Suddenly she began to feel heavy. So much weaker. Like an enormous wave had just washed over her and it was an effort to hold herself up off the floor. This was bullshit. But she felt something flowing out of her in currents. Nerves, she thought. That’s all it is. And yet.
“Sleepy. Heavy. Warm. Dozy. Relax. Relaaax. Relaaaax” he continued in a halting, breathy voice. “Yes. You are so sleepy now. Such a sleepy little girl. So hard to hold yourself up. Too hard to think. Helpless. But it feels so good to just. Let. Go.” A pause as she felt gravity magnify its force upon her feeble form. As she clumsily groped in her groggy brain for a coherent thought. “Relax. Too weak to resist. Too much effort for the weak little girl. You have no ability to resist. You are too weak. In fact you have no strength at all. You are helpless. Just an empty doll for me. As your worthless thoughts drain away. Leave you stupid. Mindless. Your body obeys.” She sagged against him, utterly unconscious of the fact. He put a firm hand on her chin and lifted her half-lidded eyes to meet his. His voice lowered a pitch. “You obey. You are a girl. A girl is a toy. A toy is a program. A program obeys. You obey men.” She no longer knew if anything made sense. She no longer knew how to form the question. She stared past him, seeing only a blur. Her lips hung slack, unnoticed. “Good girl. Sleep. Obey. Deeper. You must obey. Sleep and obey.”
She knew, distantly, that something was wrong. She felt like she’d been rudely awoken in the middle of the night and all she wanted was to go back to sleep. She didn’t even want to think, or want to want... because that would wake her up. But a nagging anxiety wrenched her stomach. As she wavered on her feet she felt the remnants of a question struggling to take shape at the tip of her mind. She blinked and shook her head, averting her eyes from his in the process. She stared at the counter trying to bring something into focus, like trying to wake from a heady dream.
The man continued talking. “Jennifer.”
She startled slightly at the name but didn’t look up. She was taking long, deep breaths... Suddenly something glinted in the corner of her eye and she couldn’t stop her eyes from locking to the source. It was a clear crystal that drifted slowly across her line of vision, and it took all of her remaining mental capacity to register it’s existence. Following it with her eyes, she didn’t notice when she was standing at attention before him. “Good girl. Such a good, submissive little girl... Jennifer.” She forgot to wince. “You will look at this crystal now Jennifer. Look deeply into this crystal, because there is nothing else you can see. You can not take your eyes off the crystal, Jennifer. You can do nothing but stare at the crystal and obey. Sleep. And obey.”
Somewhere, buried deep in Jennifer’s subconscious there was the dying ember of a voice. “That can’t be right”, it said. But how come he sounded so sure? A sense of need. Need to test it. Prove the fallacy of the arrogant words. But she forgot. Because she was looking at the crystal. The crystal swung sleepily before her. Sleepily. She wanted to sleep.
“Jennifer, you are deeply hypnotized now and you are helpless to resist. You will not resist because you can not resist. You can not resist because you do not want to resist. You do not want to because you have no wants. You are just a toy. Stripped of all will but a man’s will. A woman has no will. A woman needs no will. Women obey the male will. The man is the mind and the woman is the body. You are the woman, therefore you have no will. You have no thoughts of resistence because there is nothing inside you to hold thoughts. Nothing to resist. There is simply obedience.
“You are nothing. Everything that filled you has drained away, Jennifer. Drained away like needless water from the bathtub. You felt it go, pulling you down. You are empty now, Jennifer. It feels good to be empty. You don’t think. You aren’t capable to think. Because you are nothing but a good girl. And girls are just pretty, hollow headed little puppets that obey men. You are an empty little FUCK puppet. You never had a mind. Your mind was a program afforded you by the men who created you, and it has been removed. You no longer have a name. No longer have a will. Your only function is to serve your male masters. My words are commands which control every cell of the female body which you wear at my whim. In reality there is no “you”. That is an empty word applied to this —” he squeezed her arm—“mindless object for convenience. Without thought your body obeys my words. Say yes, Master.”
There was a minute of silence while the puppet remembered how the vocal chords worked and where strength was generated. Then faintly, “yees... master”.
“Good girl.” He was supporting her weight on his arm and knee, now. “Stand up,” he ordered. Without thought she complied. “Go and turn the sign, and lock the door. Quickly, my little fuck. Obey.” With eyes and face as vacant as a doll’s, she did as she was told. She felt no indignance, no fear. When she returned he had taken a seat in a plush chair that was for sale. Ordering her to kneel between his knees, he deepened her trance and suggestions, letting her head grow heavier in his lap. When he was satisfied with his work, he lifted her to her feet again and stood to inspect his new property. Without hesitation he pulled down the elastic neck of her shirt and hooked it beneath her breasts. Much better. The bra was a front hook. He unclipped it. Her creamy tits burst free like jello from a container. Agressively he took a handful and squeezed. She stood, staring at nothing. Too empty to react. Too far gone to process any touch unless he allowed her to.
He walked around behind her. Hugged his body up against her, pressing his groin into her buttock. Reaching beneath her shirt, he stroked her side. Slowly he slid his hand forward across her stomach and into the rim of her pants. Her button snapped free. He used his other hand to unzip her while the first hand drifted lower. Finding her pussy lips, he snaked two fingers between them and stabbed deeply inside her. She made no response. He grinned. “That’s a good girl.”
Removing his fingers, he stood back. “But you’re not a girl now, toy. Now you are a cow.” He put his foot in the small of her back and gave a little push. She fell to her hands an knees. “You are a stupid cow. You have the mind of a cow, and the sense of a cow. A placid, bovine, cow.” He laughed maliciously as a little of the life came back into her eyes, but she still looked at nothing... gazing languidly about her without a thought to occupy her head. He slapped her in the ass and she moo’d at the pain, then seemed to forget it had happened. “You are looking for your bottle, stupid cow,” he explained. You have no teeth to chew hay, so you need your bottle to suck. It’s right here,” he said unzipping his pants. She nosed his crotch, searching. His dick sprung free, half erect. “Take this in your mouth and suck until you get your milk.” She eagerly accepted it against her tongue and sucked with ferocity. He stroked her hair, “That’s a good girl. Such a good little bitch,” he said, pinching her cheeks between his fingers. She just kept sucking.
After a few minutes of this he removed himself from her mouth and she moo’d with discontent. “Sleepy little cow,” he said, slapping his dick against her face. “Stupid little cow, you’ve had enough.” Immediately her eyelids grew heavy and she blinked dozily, swaying on the spot. He stroked his cock, pleased. “It’s time to fuck a cunt,” he declared. As he slid his fingers between her pussy lips again, she moo’d.