Remnants of the Flame
by me_chan
Author’s Note: Special thanks to Lady Jessica for inspiring this writing. If you would like to listen to her narration of this story, you can find it here.
“Wow, what happened there?”
A tall, thin, vertical dark shade painted a cream-colored wall, clearly standing out as the inverse remains of something.
“Oh, that was from a candle I treated myself to. I let it burn at night. Looked spectacular by itself lighting up the room, but left a bit of a mess when I looked at it the next day.”
“What kind of candle was it?”
“I forget, wished it was a soy one, but it burned well and smelled nice at the time.”
“Whatever it was, can’t believed it burned that high.”
Jessica looked over and considered explaining to her friend how soy burned clean, and didn’t leave smoke damage that gave the impression of a tall flame, but stopped herself. Curious eyes looked at the stained wall with wonder, like a child looking at a lava lamp. They spoke of not believing, but they clearly wanted to for that moment, so Jessica decided to silently leave the fantasy in-tact and turn her attention back to the TV.
She spent another five minutes concentrating on the show they found enjoyable enough to watch while channel-surfing. Jessica turned herself to ask her friend about the show, but the words never left her tongue or exited her mouth. She held her breath watching her friend still watching the wall. Rapt eyes never lost that fixated quality, pupils only traveling vertically, up the length of the soot on the wall.
Jessica’s breathless stare turned into a wondrous smile herself, followed by a tinge of wickedness tugging at the corners of her mouth. She certainly didn’t plan on using her hypnotic skills on such a laid back occasion; it was hard to blame a hypnotist innocently sitting next to someone already on the brink of a light trance, not to urge them a little further. This friend had experienced trance before, and far be it for the Queen of Dreams to not grace a subject in her court with a little dreamy lassitude.
“Yeah,” she began in a breathy whisper. “What a sight,” she spoke as if absentmindedly to herself. “To see the remnants of a flame leaving its mark so brilliantly, so proudly, as if to memorialize the brilliance that was. So easy to trek the length of the remaining shadow, up and down, up and down, up and down. Impressive how far the eyes can travel up and down, so hard to get lost traveling on a single road up and down, yet it wouldn’t be a negative to get positively lost in the ever-familiar up and down.”
“Studying the flame that was, puts at ease so well. It’s just one of those things that catches your attention and leaves you with comfortable, wanton sensations. That car ride where you’re the passenger enjoying the passing scenery, that walk you take where you lose track of where you were going, but found it effortless to keep walking aimlessly, the small little thing that catches your attention, makes you ponder, makes you wonder, makes you enjoy a carefree moment in time, as if time looses importance for you.”
“Maybe that captivating moment was when the candle last burned, bright enough to leave an imprint on the wall, on your attention, on your thoughts that become increasingly more about the former flame, until most other thoughts began burning away, its magnificence fanning the flames within you to observe and give in to the attention it wants to garner from interested eyes. And you are sooo interested, aren’t you?”
“How easy it must be to exclusively study a mere slim, dark shape on a lightly colored wall. You may not even notice the lighter wall surrounding, just the darkness. Such an ingenious juxtaposition to what was, where the light was the slender beacon surrounded by darkness, tall, looming, illuminating, holding its own while respecting its counterpart. The light isn’t a remedy to the darkness, the darkness isn’t a morose force that should be rejected. And by that token, the light isn’t a distraction to the beguiling darkness that creeps up on you like silk sheets to cover you for a well-deserved, persuasive rest to come. They are two natural forces in concert with one another, like old, respected friends, giving one another great meaning, one possibly poorer without the presence or existence of the other.”
“What may set it apart for interested eyes is just a shape the light or dark would take, a beacon for your eyes to bathe in the glow of any color it chooses. It doesn’t matter what it was or what it is, what color it takes as the background accommodatingly contrasts it. As sure as you breathe deeply and slowly, as sure as your body remains still and your open eyes settle onto the shinning guide, as sure as a voice and her words leave you gratefully adrift in delightful solace, you focus, you listen, you surrender to all the bliss the darkness and light have in-store for you.”
“So in-tune with this one simply enthralling thing, utterly magnetized and drawn. You are so focused, it wouldn’t make a bit of difference if those eyes were to close. Such an inconsequential thing really. You still find yourself breathing deeper and deeper, you are still unmoving, your mind is still so ever-suggestible, but while closing your eyes is normally such a change in perception, your focus remains too strong to be deterred, unbreakable and firm. It wouldn’t matter if a persuasive voice spoke about the weight of eyelids and how for no logical reason, they would begin to grow heavy, heavy of their own volition, of their own need to fight. The average eye might fight this, but they can’t stop from the muscle of those eyelids succumbing to gravity and the need to stretch, pull the shade over your vision, to grow so dense, so lead-like, laboring to keep them open which exerts energy you don’t possess anymore to keep them open, weighed down by the softest of words as they sink down, and down, and down, and down, and and down, mimicking how the softest of words take you deeper, and deeper, and deeper, and deeper, and deeper.”
“But, as I told you before, even the gravity of those tightly-shut eyelids don’t measure up to your focus. You focused on that darkness so well, and now you are bathed in it, it is your world, and it’s willing to share the world with a shape your familiar with, for out of this beautiful darkness, rising like a powerful phoenix, the remnants of the flame return, gently holding your mind. Other thoughts burned away, thoughts or resistance made into ashes, the deepest parts of you alight languorous joy the inextinguishable flame provides. The warmth of the light and the darkness cover you, like a bedspread and cover, your vehicle on a safe road of pleasurable dreams.”
“You see this light with all that you are, you know it, and it knows you. It knows that you love staring, and it is more than happy reward those adoring eyes. Its reward is substantial for you, as this flame and all flames like it will have much more meaning in your life. The sight of an unlit candle will give you a sense of hope and potential, an internal giddiness to want to see the flame lit. And if that makes you feel good, the sight of a lit candle will be oh so satisfying to your senses. The special odor of a scented candle will become more palpable, the heat from one will warm your skin almost like a lover’s touch, and it goes without saying that your eyes can shut everything out and leave it behind the wonderful darkness that frames the light you love so.”
“There is a special condition to experiencing this light, so you must listen very carefully now. Only under safe, civil, and proper conditions are you able to experience this as I have said. The light, the darkness, the flame, the voice you listen closely to, all have your best interests in mind. Under no circumstances will you be able to enjoy candles and flames like I have said if it is or even appears improper to do so. Surrounded by friends, family, other samaritans wherever you may be, the flame will only be as normal to you as it was before today, leaving you silently anticipating the next time you can enjoy one in private or with those who know your love of candles so well, a hypnotic friend perhaps. And when politeness isn’t an issue, safety must be, without question. The only way to garner any pleasure from a lit candle is if all precautions are taken to ensure that it burns safely, with nothing around it that could be set dangerously aflame as a result. The flame has your best interest in mind like I do, its wishes to keep you safe should never be ignored. Only when it is safe, civil, and proper to enjoy one, the pleasure you feel now for a candle flame will be unobstructed and irresistible.”
“The flame is quite irresistible, yes? Just like my voice. Profound submission blooms within you whenever you are exposed. Doesn’t seem to matter that most times you must light the flame to enjoy it, or that my voice may often surprise you, hitting you with a feathery touch you never see coming until a puddle of surrendered bliss; when you obey the will of the flames, and the will of my words, you will rightfully prosper. How, you might ask? Well, that slender, tall flame you still see in your mind’s eye, once you acquiesce to all of our commands enough times in-practice, you will be given further rewards. Further as in a welcoming heat, concentrated on your most erogenous points. Wherever they may be, pleasure will rise and gather there, collections of tremor-inducing euphoria reserved for only the most obedient, hypnotized servants. As this mental or physical arousal grows, so will the height of the flame, rising as high as you want it to go, until your body his hot, at the cusp of any satisfying release you may reach. Unless I deem it at my discretion, only when you speak the words ‘I obey the remnants of the flame,’ or ‘I obey Jessica,’ will you see what brings you over, a pair of lips with a playful smile dancing on her lips, the lips that shape my mesmerizing words, effortlessly blowing the candle out completely, letting darkness and mindless elation consume you. At that point you will give yourself time, and either resume whatever you need to do that day, or slip into a peaceful, normal sleep in the aftermath.”
“This is the will of the flame, as well as my will. To obey it means pleasure, to resist is impossible. Enjoy this heavenly revelation as you slowly come back to the wakeful state you knew before the flame caught your attention. Slowly, carefully, with remorse, come back and enjoy the rest of your day off with your friend.”
A set of eyelids rose slowly, adapting to the light in the room, looking to the wall above the fireplace with the tall, smoky shadow, and then to Jessica who smiled in their direction.
“Got a good nap?”
They stirred, and apologized, not realizing how sleepy they were.
“It happens to the best of us; but who knows, maybe you got a little help in that regard.”
“If you did mess with my sleepy head…” was the fake threat that got them both laughing.
“Whatever you do, just promise you’ll burn a candle for me.”
That idea created one confused smile, convinced of just having a weird dream, and a deep smile befitting a hypnotist who knew a candle would be burning soon.