Too Many Questions - Second Session
by S.B.
((Author's Note: As the title goes, this is a sequel to my original story Too Many Questions. This piece was a patron request and you haven't seen the last of Josh and Monica. Thank you and have fun.))
Monica: “Hello again.”
Josh: “Hi.”
Monica: “Ready for our second conversation about hypnosis?”
Josh: “We had a first?”
Monica: “Oh yes. You don’t remember?”
Josh: “Vaguely.”
Monica: “Interesting... so you do remember something at least.”
Josh: “I remember questions.”
Monica: “Oh?”
Josh: “You asked too many questions, didn’t you?”
Monica: “I asked as many as you wanted to answer. Do you still hate them?”
Josh: “Yes, and I’ll always will.”
Josh: “That’s not what ‘they’ say at all. The expression is ‘never say never’.”
Monica: “I don’t think it should be.”
Josh: “Why not?”
Josh: “I suppose...”
Monica: “... I’m right again? How sweet of you to continue saying the things I want you to say. I’m glad you haven’t forgotten everything I taught you.”
Josh: “What did you teach me?”
Josh: “Right...”
Monica: “Why don’t you believe me?”
Monica: “I haven’t.”
Josh: “Come on!”
Monica: “I mean it. I’m always truthful in everything I say and do.”
Josh: “You just said ‘always’ was a strong word. Why can you use it, and not me?”
Josh: “No clue. You’re asking questions again instead of answering me and that’s...”
Monica: “... annoying?”
Josh: “Yes, and my patience is starting to wear thin.”
Josh: “Is this conversation supposed to be going anywhere?”
Monica: “Sure. Where do you want it to go, Josh?”
Josh: “Somewhere less confusing for starters.”
Monica: “Noted. Let’s change the subject. Tell me about your week.”
Josh: “What do you want to know?”
Josh: “My week was... okay. Could have been better though.”
Josh: “Too many things to do, too little consequence. I worked like crazy yet it seems I didn’t accomplish enough. Time didn’t help either. It moved too fast when it shouldn’t have and when I wanted it to move, it stood still.”
Monica: “Ah yes, the old dilemma, or the temporal paradox if you will.”
Josh: “Huh?”
Monica: “Our mood affects the way we perceive the flow of time. Surely you know this.”
Josh: “Time flies when we’re having fun and drags on forever when we’re bored? Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”
Josh: “What do you mean?”
Monica: “I’m not much for scripts because everybody is different so I improvise a lot. When I’m talking to submissive men like you, I start by ‘feeling the mood’, seeing how receptive they are to certain approaches. We all have things we’re truly drawn to and others that stay in the fringe of our thoughts. The fringe is variable though. Depending on one’s personal circumstances at the moment, some ideas can seem more enticing, and present themselves in a way that makes them hard to resist. Most of my job as a hypnotist/Domme comprises recognizing which underlying patterns are available at any given moment and making the best out of them so that we can both have a pleasurable experience. Does that make sense to you?”
Josh: “I guess but what does that have to do with the perception of Time?”
Monica: “When someone enters a state of trance, they often perceive Time differently. The old measuring constructs soon become meaningless. A second can appear like an hour, or vice versa. We can perceive a lifetime of experiences in a couple of minutes, memories becoming so vivid that they instinctively take root in our subconscious. But if you think only the subject experiences things like that, you’re mistaken. So does the hypnotist.”
Monica: “When we’re constructing any kind of hypnotic scenario whether it’s a fantasy where you want to lick my boots clean or simply filling one’s mind with positive suggestions to make their next week far more amenable than the one that came before, we too have to inhabit the things we say, to make them ours and, if we’re enjoying them, we get the same pleasurable distortion of Time as you do. If we’re not, we are also plagued by the same frustration and it’s as if Time didn’t go anywhere.”
Josh: “I’m confused. Why wouldn’t you enjoy the suggestions you give your subjects?”
Josh: “I see you’re doing it again.”
Monica: “Doing what exactly?”
Josh: “Calling me submissive.”
Monica: “Ah... you prefer the word ‘slave’, right?”
Josh: “No!”
Monica: “That’s not what you said last time.”
Monica: “I know. Isn’t that hot?”
Josh: “No, it isn’t.”
Monica: “Oh? Why not?”
Josh: “Please stop with the questions.”
Monica: “I’m trying to understand what really makes you tick, Josh.”
Monica: “So you say, but the question remains how you can be so sure of that if you don’t remember it. We talked about many things last time but I never told you to forget so perhaps you did it on your own because deep inside you like the idea and find it easier to go into a trance for me knowing it will happen.”
Josh: “No. I treasure my memories above everything else. I want to keep them pure and intact.”
Monica: “Of course, you do. You like things that are constant. Or at least imagining they’re so. Your biggest thrill is gazing at the boundaries of your safe zone instead of crossing them when you get the chance. You get excited thinking about it, sure, but when the opportunity presents itself, you do everything in your power to let it pass you by. You’ve done it before, it’s likely you’ll do it again and, each time you fall into that same old routine, you’ll look for a justification, a simple reason that makes everything right. You’ll say things like ‘the time isn’t right’ or ‘I want to keep my memories pure and intact’. Sorry to be so blunt, but those are pathetic excuses, you know?”
Josh: “What the fuck? How dare you, Monica?”
Monica: “I do it because it’s true. I do it because you don’t do it yourself. You don’t dare, but you don’t choose truth either. Instead, you’re stuck in the middle, and virtue is nowhere to be found.”
Monica: “Because you’re curious. You’re trying to piece together what happened last time, hoping you’ll find the answer in these lines. You want a perfect recreation of everything playing out inside your mind but there’s no such thing as ‘intact memories’. The very nature of memory implies fragmentation, a sense of disconnection to the things we’re trying to remember, and that’s why we forget.”
Josh: “That doesn’t make any sense.”
Monica: “Maybe this analogy helps. Computer files are made of data, right? Millions of fragments scattered around, ready to be assembled when we need them. With each save, the file itself changes and so do its components. Change is inevitable, it will always be so. Nothing ever gets really destroyed, it merely turns into something else along the way. Sometimes, files become corrupt or obsolete, but even when we delete them, traces of what they were still linger. Memories are the same. They’re fluid, changing with each experience. They often blend and can be redirected, reorganized, reshaped. What you remember isn’t always what happened but rather the romanticized idea of the original event with some fabrications along the way. Amongst countless other things, nostalgia makes fools of us all. The only way for you to have clean memories would be to remember everything that ever happened to you at any given moment in Time. Can you imagine how torturous that would be? To have that surplus of emotions always at the forefront? If you remembered everything all at once, you’d soon wish you remembered nothing at all. Amnesia would be a bliss but you already know that.”
Josh: “I know nothing. God, are you always like this?”
Monica: “I am the way I am and you are the way you are unless you are the way I want you to be which is pretty much all the time, but especially when we talk. My favorite conversation was the fourth. What about yours?”
Josh: “Fourth? You said this was the second!”
Monica: “But you don’t remember the second...”
Monica: “So the chances of you remembering anything that happened after that one are next to none. I guess you don’t remember the fourth one either, my bad.”
Josh: “There was no fourth!”
Monica: “Oh... there’s always a fourth. And back and forth too, like the pendulum of a metronome ticking in the background, telling you it’s okay to stop being so serious and accept the fact that Time is meaningless when we’re talking like this. If I were a liar, you’d be in trouble right now, sinking in your chair, your fingers sliding away from the keyboard, unable to stop yourself from falling deeper and deeper for me. However, you know you’re safe because I never told a lie in my life and if that’s the case, everything I say is and will always be true. The truth in my words is that you’re already under and, every time I put you under, there’s one little sentence you know must come out of your lips the same way it bleeds through your fingers. Remember those words for me. What is the only acceptable answer to every question I ask?”
Josh: “Yes, Monica.”
Josh: “Yes, Monica.”
Monica: “On second thought, let’s make it thirty. Thirty times I’ve been inside your head already, changing little things with each one, updating the software so that only the best version of you remains, a version that always types...”
Josh: “Yes, Monica.”
Josh: “Yes, Monica.”
Monica: “And again.”
Josh: “Yes, Monica.”
Josh: “Yes, Monica.”
Monica: “Good. Very good. Even better when you realize that’s all you’ve ever said. Whenever we talk, you say nothing else because you don’t remember any other words. You will remember nothing else unless I tell you you can. You remember nothing else, isn’t that right?”
Josh: “Yes, Monica.”
Monica: “And if you remember nothing else and everything I say is true, no matter what I type right now, you have no choice but to comply. You must accept and obey my words.”
Monica: “It’s good to have no sense of Self, no control, no power. Real slaves know this and you’re one of them. You’ve never been anything else otherwise you wouldn’t continue to type...”
Monica: “Yes, yes, YES! Programmed to say it, doomed to repeat it, loving every step of the way... you’re getting so hard on your end of the keyboard it’s amazing how you haven’t sunk to your knees yet. Don’t you want to do it, pet? Don’t you wish to show me what a good mindfucked hypnoslave you are? I know you do so don’t be shy... say what’s on your mind.”
Josh: “Yes, Monica.”
Josh: “Yes, Monica.”
Josh: “Yes, Monica.”
Monica: “Well, look at the time... it’s late and I have to go to bed soon but you’re off tomorrow, right? Hmmm... I think you can afford to kneel for me another hour or so. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re doing it so make my dreams happier. Please me with your dutiful compliance, and my words that are your own. Stare at the clock on your nightstand and don’t get up until at least an hour has gone by. Know this though: the more you enjoy this sensation, the slower time will pass for you for what’s the point in rushing things we adore? If, on the other hand, you find yourself uncomfortable after a while, the minutes will fly like seconds until the trance wears off. Either way, when you snap out of it, you’ll remember only what you wish to remember, the same way you did before. Whether it was one time, ten, or one hundred will always be irrelevant and when I decide to call you again, the only words that will come to your pliable mind will be...”
Josh: “Yes, Monica.”
Monica: “What a good boy. I love it! Good night, Josh. You’re always fun to talk to. Bye.”
((I hope you had fun with this little tale. I always do when writing. Want to have more fun with me? Support my site - https:://www.sbspellbound.net - through my patreon page - https://www.patreon.com/sbspellbound - and it can be yours, because you’ve yet to see everything I can create. Feedback is always welcome at my e-mail address, too: sbstories@hotmail.com. Thanks in advance.))