Small Trances

The Butterfly

by C. H.

Tags: #D/s #dom:female #dom:male #f/f #pov:bottom #sub:female #consensual_non-consent #f/m #hypnosis #hypnotic_language #hypnotized #microfiction #mind_control #mindbreak #pov:top #sub:male

Welcome! This is a series of self-contained hypnosis scenes. They have little to no plot, but in each of them someone surrenders.

Specific content warnings will be found at the start of each story. For this one: brainwashing, memory play.

This story is part of my Hypnovember 2022 posts on Tumblr, which also include induction scripts and more.

You remember waking up. You remember being something other than what you truly are. You remember not having a Master. You remember having to decide. Many things. What to eat for breakfast, and when? Should you answer that social media post? Should you allow yourself to get upset and outraged by that other one? Which clothes to wear?

(You remember wearing clothes! It seems so alien to you.)

You remember leaving your home to go to work. You remember long, boring stretches of time. You remember many choices, many different anxieties. You remember having to assert yourself over and over and over again, to engage in one fight for power and attention after another just to stay afloat, just to keep that job you hate but cannot quit.

You remember being a person. You remember not being very good at it.

You remember going back to your home, tired and frustrated. A wreck, wanting nothing but a moment of peace, of oblivion.

Of nothingness.

And now you remember sitting on a couch, putting the headphones on and starting your audio playlist. An hour or so of files. Just something to relax, take a deep breath, and—

You remember your eyes rolling back in your head. You remember losing your will and your consciousness.

And now you remember waking up again. Safe and naked, kneeling on the bare floor. In front of Master. Below him. Where you belong.

You are here now. You are his toy. You know you are, and little else. No complex thoughts. No worries. No choices. You’ve never had any. You exist to serve Master. You always have.

That other life is not your life. It never was. It was just a dream.

You should be happy now. Content. Complete.

And yet— something is bothering you. A strange notion has entered your simple mind and won’t get out. A doubt.

Are you a hypnoslave, a toy who just dreamed it was a person?

Or are you a person who dreams, right now, of being a hypnoslave?

This was based on the "parable of the butterfly" from the Zhuangzi, 3rd Century BCE. Thank you for reading! 🌀

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