Established Patterns

I seem to have fallen into a rather strange routine, when dealing with new sexual partners.

I'm not sure exactly why, though I do have some theories.

That's sort of my curse..  Self analyzing, self obsessing, over analyzing to the point of ridiculousness.  I don't mean to say that I am self involved, or vain, or anything like that.  Though I am a bit vain, it's true.

I mean that I can't stop analyzing the reasons I do things.  I suppose it stems from a pathological fear of insanity.  Or more than that, a fear of waking up in some institution where anything I say is dismissed as meaningless ranting.  Unable to make myself heard, unable to get out, just stuck.

I also have quite a fear of being restrained, which I imagine is related.

But I digress, as usual.

You see.. I meet a new person, and after the initial getting to know you.  I tend to break the news about my little fetish sooner rather than later.  This, tends towards curiosity in the part of the person I'm meeting, and eventually turns to wanting to give it a try.

This isn't of course, the case every time, but if it isn't, it's safe to assume we're not compatible anyway and I tend to move on before we get much farther.

Anyway.. One thing leads to another, and eventually I end up breathing heavily trying not to squirm while they lay slumped in an easy chair mumbling responses back to me in an oh so delightful entranced mutter as I guide them deeper, trying to find out more about them..

Once I calm down a bit.. we play a few harmless games, seeing how suggestible they are, you get the idea I'm sure.  We probably try a few more risque things as well, which I shall leave to your imagination as they aren't really relevant to the conversation.

But eventually, perhaps after a few attempts, my pattern gets a little.. well you might call it strange.

Eventually, I decide to guide them into thinking that I am the one that was hypnotized.  And beyond that, I tend to let them think that their suggestions won't be resisted in the least, that they have far more control over me than I did of them.

So right now you might be asking.. Why would she do that?

Well there's where I'm not exactly sure...  But I'll tell you my theories.

First.. I am a switch.

Now I'm not entirely sure I use that term "correctly"  since so many things involved in being a sub would tend to have me just stand up and slap my partner if they tried them.  But in this case.. I can't help but be terribly aroused at the thought of being.. helpless.. to someone's will.  Of being changed, to meet their desires.  My personality, body, anything, changed for their pleasure...  *shivers*

That said, I am a terribly cautious person in many ways.  Perhaps because of how things went the first time around, perhaps because of other things..  But in this thing at least, I am wary of giving someone I don't know well such a level of control over me.

Also, I don't want it to end up a permanent thing.. It's not that I want it all to be on my terms when I want.  I love the idea of being surprised, taken against my will, molded.. *shivers*
But the thought of never quite getting back to myself, rather terrifies me.

On another level, I want to see what they are like with the gloves off..

When they think I can't fight back.  Don't see, won't remember, have no control over what they do and say.  I want to know who they are inside.

People treat you differently when they think you won't remember..

They may be caring, or callous.  Treat you like a beloved pet, or small child, or perhaps as a thing to be abused and punished, beneath notice or caring..  Some people just don't have it in them..  They can't be in control, and just ask what you want, try and think of a few things to do, and end it as soon as possible.  Others love it, understand, and try to be imaginative and evocative.. Playing delightful games...

Others still of course, take things to a dark place in a hurry...  The man who tried to pimp me out to his friends is of course a good example.

The twisted thing is.. I might have even enjoyed that.  If I had known them, and him.. If it were a part of something, larger.. if that makes any sense..  But his callous disregard, his simple exploitative abuse of the concept.. Suffice to say that didn't last long, and I gave him a few things to remember me by.

I suppose it mostly goes back to these fantasies.. This need to .. be used, controlled, changed.. And my shame for feeling that way.

But the pattern doesn't really stop there.. You see.. the more I play with them, and have them play with me.. The more I tend to feel guilty, ashamed, afraid.. So I tend towards making them angry.

I lash out rudely while they think they can control me.  I might behave poorly, or do something simply to make them angry.  Or sometimes even just re-enforce the concept with them, making them more and more upset with me, want more and more to punish me.. To .. get even.. for some real or imagined slight.

I want to see what they will do.. But also, I think that maybe I just feel like I deserve to be punished..

It never lasts.  As much as I might think I deserve to be punished, my nature won't let me sit back and take it for too long, and I eventually get a bit even myself.  Maybe push a few boundaries they don't really want to push.  Maybe do something to really earn their anger, and not just the suggestion of it..  The cycle escalates, with our games getting darker, more perverse, driving each other well past what we might have considered within our range of acceptable just a short while before..

But always eventually I drive them away.. Sometimes accidentally, sometimes on purpose when things get too out of hand and they start to damage the rest of my life...

But eventually I force them away..  And I start all over.

What Next?

I've thought for some time, about what to talk about next.

Except it's not really what to talk about.  It's what to tell you.  There is no conversation in a medium like this.  I just get to sit back and decide your experience, your understanding of my situation.

In some sense that gives me a great deal of power.  Over your perception, over your belief.  But in another.. It makes me helpless.  If I am misunderstood, I won't ever know.  If I'm not even heard, how can I tell?  I can pour out my heart, and I'm still at the mercy of all those who read.  All those who come to read, come to see, come to judge...

So why do I do it?

I decided that's what I should tell you.

To explain why I'm doing this.  Or attempt to at least, and maybe understand a little better myself.


I told you about my early experiences with hypnosis.  And now I'll tell you about one part of my current reality.

Some of you know, that I run a store in Second Life.  Some of you who know me there, know that I pulled back from that enterprise some time ago.  And some of you who know me from the various boards and things around the internet know, that I first started getting involved there only recently.  And those who know me only from here?  Well you can clearly see that this blog is a rather new construct in my world.

So why the migration?  Why the shift?

Well.. I'll tell you.


I can't stop.


I really can't.. I've tried.  Sometimes I wonder if I should get some help.  If this is what addiction feels like..  It's not really what I imagined it to be.  I've never had much of a problem with substance abuse.  When prescribed pain meds, I don't even bother taking them, let alone get addicted.  I drink, occasionally to excess, but I'll go months without, without ever really noticing.

I imagined addiction to be something that gnaws the back of your mind.  Something always there.  Something that you struggle with constantly.

Certainly that's how I've heard it described.  You take it one day at a time right?  You wrestle with the demons inside you...

Mine are sneakier than that.

Mine don't haunt me.  Mine don't wrestle with me.  If you might forgive what is likely a terrible football metaphor.. There is no line of skirmish.  There is no battle, no fight.  My demons leave me alone, for a good length of time.  A day, a week, a month, but when they eventually strike, it's from the shadows, suddenly, powerfully..

And most of the time I don't even know they've hit me.

I pulled back from Second Life because it was sucking me in too much.  It was compromising my real life, my work, my education.  Not the game, or the escape.. But the girls...

I know they don't look like they pretend to.  I know most of them are probably boys.  But to someone interested in their minds, it hardly matters at all.  So many.. and So willing.. Wanting, BEGGING.. to be toyed with..

I just couldn't help myself...

And worse.. Seeing their submission, their ecstasy.. I wanted to feel it for myself.


When it got too intense, I pulled away.  The store still runs, but I don't visit much.  But still once in a while I end up back there, despite not meaning to.  Despite not wanting to..

It reminds me of how I felt with Adam.. All those years ago.  I didn't want it.. until I did..

For a time I did ok without it.  But I found myself wanting more of an outlet.. For that side of my personality.  For that need.  So I got more involved.  I tried writing stories, making images..

But of course, I like praise.. I like attention..  I can admit that about myself.

So I talked to people about my work, and talked more, and somehow found myself doing things I shouldn't be doing.

I always seem to end up back there.. Eventually

Finally I started writing here.  With the perhaps foolish hope that getting it out there.. This shadow that lives in me, this shadow that lives Me..

Might offer some salvation
Or at least.. Absolution

After the Fall

To say our relationship changed after that would be...  A serious understatement.

I couldn't seem to get my feet under me.  No matter where I turned or twisted, things kept getting out of hand.

I would wake up in the strangest situations.

Lose time.

Have these strange blocks of the day that just seemed to.. Fade out.

I kept meaning to say no.  Or stop.  Or anything to indicate to him that I didn't want to be doing those things right now, anything would have been enough, I was sure.. But the words just.. Wouldn't come.

I would be there, going about my business, doing whatever it was I was doing.  Homework maybe.  And he would wrap me in his arms, and I would smile at the hug.

And he would whisper in my ear.. and things would get all.. fuzzy..

His hands.. his fingers.. his lips.. And the words, always talking, and I could never..

And then things would start to get so very out of hand.


I don't mean to imply that he forced me.  He would never do something like that.  For all the other problems we had, he was really a gentle person.

I always agreed.. Eventually.

But still it seemed somehow a.. Violation.  I mean, I never intended to do the things I did.  Or say the things I did.  I didn't want to.  Until I did.


As things went on, he got bolder, and I started to lose more time, and to grow more and more concerned about what was happening.  But I still couldn't break away.  I couldn't tell him no.

There was a drive in, where I decided that the movie was terrible, and that the only logical solution was to spend the evening with my lips around his cock in the front seat on the car.  Seat belts pushed aside.  Shirt tugged up so I could feel the fabric rubbing back and forth across my breasts as I moved..  My hand buried in my panties..

I don't know what to tell you other than.. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

A lot of things did.

I for some reason started flashing him all the time.  I would be talking to him and suddenly it would occur to me that he hadn't seen my breasts in a while.  I spent an evening wandering my basement trying to find him.  I knew he had just been there, and for some reason I just kept losing pieces of clothing while I searched.

We shared a few classes.. and we would pass a sheet of paper back and forth having a quite conversation to pass the time.  It was always so romantic, and sweet.  But now it seemed.. Strange, and awkward.  He would smile at me with that arrogant, expectant look, and pass me the clipboard.  And I wouldn't be able to make out what he wrote.. But I would feel such heat.. Such lust.. Such need..

I would make an excuse to run to the girls room and.. take care of myself.  It was so embarrassing.  My legs, fingers in a frantic dance.. Biting my tongue to keep from making any noise.

But it didn't help of course.

After class got out I would drag him down to the parking garage and into his car.  He would smirk as I ripped off his pants and pulled him between my breasts.. Or between my lips.. He would just keep smirking, and whispering in my ear, asking what I wanted, what I needed.. Until I told him, and he let me have it.

I started not being able to pay attention in class.  I would lose time even there.  Sometimes, I would lose a whole day.  I don't think he was doing it on purpose.  I just, couldn't seem to keep it all straight in my head.  Time, classes, became this disjointed stream of events, with no context or relevance.


Things started to get more open, more overt, more.. Obvious.  He didn't tell anyone what we were doing, but he liked to see me react in public.  I would call him master when no one could hear.  I would suddenly find my breasts weighing a thousand pounds, pinning my to my desk.  I would do.. pretty much whatever he wanted.

But in the end, I was given my escape.

He had to move away, for a while.  And while he was gone, I started to piece together what was happening.  Things started to get clearer, and all those triggers he had set, they started to fade from my memory.

When he came back, I saw that smirk on his face again.  But I managed to cut him off.  I suppose over time, all the things he had done, all the confusion and arousal, had faded enough that I could tell him no.  So I did.

I could see that he was hurt.  He thought that he had been doing what I wanted, what we both wanted.  But I told him no, and I sent him away.

We drifted apart, still friends, but not close.

I didn't want to get too near him again.  I was afraid for what I might lose.

It was.. quite a while before I thought of playing with hypnosis again.