I’m in a bit of a weird place right now, so I’m just going to type and see what comes out. Continuous writing, or whatever they call it.
I’ll set the scene, since I’m going to try and get as much on paper as I possibly can whilst it’s still fresh in my mind.
We had another stage hypnotist come to my university town the other night, and there had been posters up advertising it for the past few days. If you’ve read my last post about David Knight’s awesome evening, you’ll understand why I was excited and dragged my roommate Elle along with me. I’d invited a few more friends, however in one form or another they’d bailed on me. Since it was just the two of us, I felt a little bad on Elle since, if I *did* get up (and I was in two minds of even doing this up until he started the show) she’d be left on her own for the duration. I think I even said to her at one point that if she didn’t want to go, it was okay, we could go next year or something.
I spoke to Lex about my apprehensions on the evening just before I started getting ready. This, of course, wasn’t anything unusual to him. I have a dreadful combination of mental tactics which often puts me off most activities. Firstly, I never think about things thoroughly until last minute. Seriously, if I’m going on holiday for example, even at the airport I *still* won’t be considering the fact I’m going abroad. I’m terrible for living in my own little bubble, oblivious to the world around me. Now, I know that can be useful in certain circumstances, but it’s a bugger for real life. Secondly, there’s the fact that when I *do* begin to think things through, I not only think them, but I over think them. I’m talking a pro’s and con’s list, a million and one ‘what if’s - the lot. I silently debate most decisions that amount to more than what I’ll be wearing that day (and that’s only since I generally adopt the ‘function over fashion’ look – frequently to my detriment, I’ve been told).
But yes, so I spent a long while just bouncing arguments and counter-arguments off of Lex, and I could tell before long he was getting pretty sick of it. I know it bugs him, but I have a habit (whether it comes from my submissive side, or my academic background) of presenting both sides of an argument, and making equally a good case for each side, and then waiting for someone else to make a judgement one way or the other for me. That way, if I don’t like their decision, I know I’ll have made the right choice in going against the advice given. But, to go through the same pain-staking process every time I want to make a decision - be it having take-away at midnight, or whether (in this case) I should get up on stage at a stage hypnotist’s show - quite frankly, is a pain in the arse. I’ll admit it myself. But you put up with it so well, Lex ;)
I’ll give you a quick overview of my feelings whilst I was talking to Lex, since they’re quite important to the events that happened later on that evening.
I’d had a really good time going under for David Knight, and whilst the whole evening was a blur until the day after, I was now looking at it with the cynicism of being able to recall *everything* nearly a year later. I remembered the suggestions I was given, my thought processes as I reacted, what I did, and what was going through my mind afterwards. At the time it was my first stage hypnosis show, so I didn’t know what to expect, and I was both anxious and excited. I followed his suggestions, not knowing what was coming next, and the cringing I did later on was pushed from my mind at the time. I had a suggestion to follow. I had a part to play, and by god I wasn’t going to let him down by not responding. So I responded, and I played up to the audience, and I felt and experienced most of the things he told me to. I got a lot of attention from the crowd afterwards, which was very nice. Over all, it was a lovely evening out, and my minor embarrassment was mitigated by the attention and praise I received, and the pride I took in myself for being able to respond, and keep it together, in an environment I wasn’t used to.
Then there came this year’s version. The posters around the university didn’t even include a name; they just simply said ‘Stage Hypnotist’, which didn’t exactly get my hopes up about the grandeur of the event. When we eventually arrived (Elle and I all dolled up nicely), we knew we were 40mins late, but we surmised that they’d be getting people to buy in the drinks for a good half hour before it started. Walking down to the Student’s Union, there was a group of students out walking about in the cold and the rain, who stopped us to ask us if we wanted to go and see a stage hypnotist tonight. As we confirmed that we were already going, they hurried off down the street, but Elle and I gave each other a knowing look – it mustn’t have been as hot-selling as he’d hoped. Sure enough, as we got inside the building and into the room, it was completely empty. Unsure of whether we had the right room (even though there was the poster confirming the location, the lighting in the room, and the positioning of a hell of a lot of seats telling us that this was indeed the place) we stood in the doorway looking a little lost until someone behind the bar shouted across that the event would be starting in half an hour, and that we could get drinks in the other bar. We exchanged puzzled glances, and headed into the other bar, but I felt incredibly sorry for whoever this hypnotist was, since no-one had apparently shown up.
As we entered the bar, the posters had changed from simply a ‘Stage Hypnotist’ to showing the name (though I don’t think I’ll mention it here) and a very creepy looking picture of the ‘tist. It had a yellow spiral background and his face in the bottom-right hand corner. It’s not that he was hideous looking or anything, but the whole image just stank of cheese. From the typical 45 degree angle he was at to the camera, to the head tilted forward to give him a bigger head (and by association, a bigger brain, maybe?) and there was this god awful smile on his face. A really toothy grin, but it was the kind you’d see on a ‘before’ picture for someone about to undergo dental corrective surgery. To say the least, my confidence was decreasing by the second.
Eventually, we got called into the other room, and the pair of us braced ourselves for the worst. But to our pleasant surprise, the room was beginning to look a little busier. Now, it was nothing compared to last year with David Knight, where it was basically standing room only, and students were unwilling to leave their seats to go to the bar for fear they wouldn’t have one when they got back. No, this year it was about half as full, if that, really. But we both pressed on, determined to make the most of the night.
As soon as I sat down, there was about 5 minutes where I made small talk with Elle on the outside, but inside I was going over the conversation I’d had with Lex earlier. As I’ve kind of gotten side-tracked setting the scene for the evening, I’ll just go back a little and try to re-voice some of my concerns. Now, I knew that I’d have no trouble going under – I *rarely* have *any* trouble going under, and I knew the audience would react at seeing me drop instantly and completely as I have a habit of doing when put into trance. I also knew that last year had gone really well; I’d enjoyed myself, the audience had enjoyed seeing the show, and it was a good night all round. But, my doubts were if I could do it again, knowing the general gist of what was coming. Could I play up to the audience in the same way? Could I make sure that I wasn’t just following suggestions blankly and devoid of emotion like I’d grown accustomed to with Lex? Not only responding correctly, I’d be going above and beyond that – entering the stage as a new me, if you like. A me that was uninhibited. Actually, I think that’s the wrong word, since I’m not a very inhibited person generally. I’m more than happy to randomly run-tackle-glomp people who are dressed up in the streets, or wearing ‘free hugs’ t-shirts. I’m more than happy to make a fool of myself on a karaoke, or run through a park kicking leaves and scaring pigeons (I even stole a balloon from a 4 year old once since it was my birthday and I wasn’t given one... Oh, and I was about 14.) But this version of uninhibited is different. It’s taking a suggestion, and not just following it like I’m used to, but going that extra ‘lights, camera, action!’ step further and parade around the stage like I owned it.
After all, the hypnotist is looking for impromptu lines/actions/emotions from the volunteers, and you can’t predict what’s going to happen. It’s like live television, except this time, you’re *encouraged* to act up because it’s live.
But in the end, it came down to one question: Would the embarrassment I might suffer on stage be greater than the regret I’d feel if I sat and watched the show? Would I be kicking myself later, or be relieved that I was ‘safe’ for once. I use ‘safe’ in a loose and unusual term, since it’s the first word that popped into my head, even though I know that hypnosis is perfectly safe and there’s ways and means of coping with just about anything a subject can throw at you. That and I flipping love going under.
So, the hypnotist came on the stage, and at first, I had mixed emotions. I was relieved to note that he wasn’t nearly as bad looking as his poster suggested (seriously, get a better photographer when you’re advertising yourself! Geez...) but conversely, he had a really thick Irish accent. I wasn’t sure whether I’d be able to go under with a straight face for him. But, he began his patter, and since the room wasn’t all that full, turned the initial testers onto the whole of the audience. He tried on the staff and those manning the lights, but to my amusement, they all ignored him. He had the audience standing up out of their seats, and sitting down as fast as they could whenever he lifted or dropped his finger, and then moved onto magnetic fingers and sticky hands on the whole of the audience. What surprised me though, was that he didn’t finish the delivery. He didn’t end the suggestion, he just told us that our hands were stuck, and then moved on to asking for volunteers.
Sloppy mistake #1
In the end, I thought what the hell. At least if I try it and don’t want to do it when I get up there, I can always pretend I’m a crappy subject, and get him to send me back down again. If I enjoy it though, I won’t have missed out and regret it later. So I got up on stage, and he just repeated the same thing. Sticky hands again, but it wasn’t the repetition that annoyed me (since I presume he was going for the expectation/reaction of a repeated suggestion), but it was his delivery. He was counting upwards, but between each number, he just repeated the same flipping words. “1, tighter and tighter... 2, tighter and tighter.... 3, tighter and tighter...” Now, that in itself is fine, in small doses. But for the general audience one, he went up to 25 and for the volunteers, he still went up to 15. This for me was a little much, especially since he was opening with phrases like “when we do this again [to the volunteers] your hands will be a hundred times more stuck than last time” – question, why do you need to go all the way to 15 then? Surely, with the multiple, you wouldn’t even need to go to one? 0.25, maybe? But it was the same for the trance “7, deeper and deeper... 6, deeper and deeper... 5, deeper and deeper”. Alright, I get it. If I go into trance before 1 will you shut up sooner? Please?
But still, I went along with it. Then he had us all line up across the stage, and I felt myself going deeper into trance the longer he spent with the other volunteers. I was stood with my eyes closed, hands still clasped from the sticky hands suggestion. He then proceeded to make each of us fall back onto the floor behind us. Now, that’s one sure-fire way to make me nervous anyway, but not only didn’t he catch me properly, but he’d not factored in how many students would be lying down on stage. So we were all lay down, very cramped (I believe I had my knees resting on some guy’s shoulder) and then rather than space us out and make us comfortable, he just gave us the hot/cold weather suggestions lying down on the floor, but not before telling us to ‘stretch out and sunbathe’. I nearly kicked the poor fellow below me in the head.
Sloppy mistake #2.
But still I went along with the suggestions, and the longer I was on stage, the more I was trying to plan a subtle way of asking him if I could leave the stage. I thought perhaps if he whispered into my ear any deepeners off mic like David Knight occasionally did, then I’d say something to him then whilst it was off mic. But of course he didn’t, and for a very long time I just couldn’t bring myself to leave the stage. I was dropping in and out of light trances, but I was responding almost as if I felt I had to; like it wasn’t me controlling my body anymore. It was as if there was a little ‘me’ inside my head asking to get off of the stage, and my body had other ideas.
I even lost my glasses at one point, thanks to an ‘8 year old naughty schoolchildren class’ suggestion where one of the other volunteers stole my glasses and after he put us back under, he either didn’t notice they were still missing, or didn’t care.
Sloppy mistake #3. At least *look* at your volunteers, you didn’t even have that many to begin with.
Eventually, when he started us on an ‘Irish Dancing’ suggestion, I plucked up the courage to walk to the side of the stage and ask him both for my glasses, and to leave the stage. He just looked at me dumbfounded. I suppose he mustn’t have had many volunteers just get up and leave the stage before. But he basically wanted me off the stage as soon as possible, which I could understand, but I just kept repeating to him that I’d lost my glasses. Luckily, one of the volunteers (who I’ll name ‘Grey Hoodie Boy’ or GHB) stopped responding to his dancing suggestion and gave them back to me, so I left the stage.
But I’ll tell you, from the moment I plucked up the courage to get out of my seat, even to now – hours after the event has ended – I’ve felt very peculiar ever since. I’m not even entirely sure why I’m feeling this way myself, or indeed what exactly it is I’m feeling. But I know I didn’t like it. I watched the rest of the show with Elle, and I just began to feel worse and worse as the night went on. I saw him put one of the female volunteers (we’ll call her Red) into a inflatable raft, and told her that she was lost adrift at sea, and that when she heard the sound of a plane (from a musical cue) she’d think that someone was coming to rescue her until it passed over. When she heard the Jaws theme, she’d think that Jaws was in the water and that she’d paddle as fast as she could to escape it. He woke Red up, and honestly, my heart nearly broke for her. She instantly looked around, her face awash with pure fright and despair. She really *was* lost and alone in the middle of nowhere in a boat she’d just woke up in. Then she heard a plane above her, and threw her oars in the air (making sure to steady herself occasionally with the waves) trying to get the plane’s attention. As it flew past, she just burst into tears. So what does the ‘tist do? Play the Jaws music.
Sloppy mistake #4. Way to kick a girl when she’s down, you fucker.
Red of course, doesn’t even pick up an oar. She just buries her face in her hands, and begins to cry, not before giving the audience a look of pure terror the moment the music came on. It was honestly heart-breaking, and after the audience’s reaction got a little too much, the ‘tist gave a few words that she wouldn’t feel hurt or distressed. He said that she’d just want to get away as quickly as possible. But it had little effect on her, and it was painfully obvious to everyone that it hadn’t worked. So in the end, he employed another lad as a scape goat and gave him a Jailhouse Rock trigger to dance like Elvis whilst he went over to Red and removed the suggestion of the plane and the shark. He then, rather than giving Red a few words of comfort or deepeners, or anything like that... He leaves her in the boat, and makes her belly dance to Barbie Girl.
Sloppy mistake #5. Seriously, give the girl a break.
It was obvious that the whole boat thing had woken her up, as every time the music played, it wasn’t an instantaneous reaction. It was one of embarrassment, and almost torment. It was like she was being forced to dance, and she wasn’t happy about it. GHB by the way, for the entire show (according to Elle) hadn’t been under, had been smiling and laughing and looking around whenever the ‘tist had turned his back, and hadn’t really been responding to any of the suggestions. But he wasn’t one of the ones that the ‘tist sent off stage until *right*before the wake up. When of course, the ‘tist *did* notice that both Red and GHB were having difficulty going under, did he try a rapid induction to shake things up? Did he try a bit of extra patter, or a short induction along with a trigger? Of course not, he just repeatedly clicked his fingers at the side of their heads, telling them 2-3 times to sleep until they eventually caved. Geez.
Sloppy mistakes #6 and #7, I think it’s safe to say. One for not noticing that one of your volunteers wasn’t under, and one for the Neanderthal assault on their senses until they caved into trance.
But eventually, he woke up the *three* (yes, there were only three) remaining volunteers at the end of the show, and then pissed off. I of course, was sat in my seat still not having been given a proper wake up, but my mind was clouded by this incomprehensible funk to add on top of it. GHB had been sent off literally right before the wake up, without anything for him either. I know that he wasn’t really under for the whole thing anyway, but I certainly was a little dazed, and even when I spoke to him afterwards, he didn’t ask once why I’d left, or how I was feeling, if I was okay, if I needed any further waking up, etc.
Sloppy/inconsiderate mistake #8.
Oh, and let me just add before I forget. The *star* of tonight’s show, a guy who told me as we were waiting in the line to be hypnotised, that he was pissed out of his tree – and you could tell in his uneasy swaying every time he stood up and was asked to do something on the stage. He still had a broom in his hand from the Jailhouse Rock trigger when he was given a ‘you stole my penis!’ suggestion. He was told he couldn’t leave the stage, but was shouting and screaming... and then threw his broom at me. To be fair, he was aiming for the lads in the music booth behind me, but it still fucking hurt and wasn’t a nice way to round off the evening really. The lad did come over and profusely apologise to me afterwards, so I’m not annoyed at him, it just wasn’t what I was expecting when I walked in. And I bruise really easily.
But yes, back to my strange mood. I spent the rest of the evening up until now a little quieter than usual, trying to dig down to find out what was up with me. I think I know the main parts, but not the specific details.
Up on stage, I’d had a major fight all the way along with my submissive side. This is the side of me that wants to follow any suggestion (within certain limits, of course) that I’m given, and follow it well. The part of me that wants to do the best I can for the ‘tist, and doesn’t want to let him down by disobeying or not following the suggestion as thoroughly and completely as I can. Coupled with this, I also didn’t want to let myself down. I had the weight of my past experiences with hypnosis crushing down on my back. I’m a subject who’s been popping in and out of trances for nearly 3.5 years now, and here I am, worrying about whether or not I can handle a stage hypnosis show? I’ve seen walls appear out of nowhere, and walked around Bristol as an Elven Queen (there’s a post coming about that, I promise!) and I was feeling so uneasy about the thought of being made to do something silly? I kept putting off leaving the stage, convincing myself at first that I was ‘waiting for my moment’ to tell him, and in the mean time I couldn’t *not* respond until that moment came. But it gave me a really disjointed feeling, like my body was doing something that my mind wasn’t actively taking part in.
Now, the majority of you reading this blog will be fellow hypnofetishists, so I apologise if I appear to be blaspheming by announcing that tonight, that *wasn’t* something that felt hot, or sexy, or even nice at all. I came away from that stage with a feeling that I think I’ve managed to pin down now, and I’m no longer denying it. I felt like I’d failed. Both as a practiced hypnosis subject, and a submissive. And from the moment I left the stage, I had to sit and watch the audience lapping up the performances of the other volunteers, and then after the show watch them get congratulated. I viewed it with both envy, and sadness. I thought I’d be kicking myself for leaving, and I guess in a way, I am. But not nearly as much as I thought I would be. I knew that if I’d have stayed on the stage, I’d have dragged myself through the performance, and I don’t necessarily believe I’d be any happier than I currently am.
But it brings me back to the analysis of why I was feeling the way I have been. Is it back to what I mentioned in an earlier post of self-conditioning? Aspiring to be this perfect hypnotic slavegirl who has amazing responses to any and all suggestions, and can be shown off by her Master with pride, knowing she can respond when he wants her to. To me, as a submissive, I felt I should have dragged myself through that performance regardless. Being a sub wasn’t going to be roses and sex 24/7, and I think I was forcing myself through it initially because I felt like I had to. Of course, when I plucked up the courage to leave, I felt like I’d tarnished the image I’d aspired to; like I’d failed in achieving it. It was like I’d placed a big, black mark across my (relatively) spotless record. Sure, before now I’d said no to suggestions, things asked of me in company I’d rather not show off in front of... but that’s what puzzles me. Why is it that this is the occasion I feel the worst about? Why do I feel like a terrible sub *now* of all times, with a randomer who was (I feel incredibly pompous for saying this, given my incredibly limited study of hypnosis myself) on the bad side of average himself?
At the moment of writing this, I’m just in an incredibly weird funk. I don’t feel properly woken from trance, even hours after the event ended (which I assumed I’d just wake from naturally over time) but I’m not sure if my funk’s keeping me in the daze. I’ll ring Lex in a second and talk him through it, but I just wanted to get as much of my thoughts down on paper as quickly as I could tonight.