From musepoetsub, on My latest text trance:

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There is no way you want to look at the pocket watch.  Zusa is naked, she is swinging the watch in front of your eyes, you want to look at that perfect body, who needs a pocket . . .

Watch the watch.  Watch only the watch.

The watch is in front of your eyes, swinging back and forth. Pesky watch. Back and forth.  In front of Zusa. In front of that body.

Back and forth.  Back and forth.

That body.  Focus on it. The snake tattoo. Focus.  It’s right in front of you. Focus.

You can listen to my voice, or not.  It doesn’t matter. You will watch the watch.

Watch.  Back and forth.  Why is it so hard to see the snake.  As the watch goes by, it follows the curve of the snake. Of her hip.  Focus on the hip.

See only the watch.  Only the watch.

While it goes back and forth, I wish I could peek at Zusa. Zusa. Peek at her. Listen to her. Listen to her voice.

Back and forth.  Your eyes go back and forth. You cannot take your eyes away from the watch.

Back and forth.  That makes sense. If my eyes go back, they have to go forth. What does that mean, forth. Back. And forth. Forth. Back. Zusa. Where did she go? Wasn’t she here?

Back and forth. Back and forth, Heavier and heavier.

Zusa is nearby. Back and forth. I hear her voice. Heavier and heavier. I will see her, I will see her curves, I will see her snake, if I just keep my eyes open as the watch goes by.

Heavier and heavier.

It is so dark here. So nice. So quiet. Only Zusa’s voice. I could see Zusa. All I have to do is open my . . .

Heavier and heavier.

So dark, so nice, in here with Zusa’s voice.

Sleep. Let go.

Where is Zusa?

Sleep, Let go. Give in to my voice. Let everything go.

Dark. Quiet. Warm. There is a voice in the background.  There is a heartbeat. There is Zusa.  I cannot see her. I am in her. I would open my eyes but I have no eyes . . .

Sleep NOW!

I have no eyes. Only Zusa. Only Zusa. Only Zusa.

***

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My toy james is delightful to Me in many ways – he is truly a devoted toy. But one of the many ways he is delightful to Me is a little tradition we now have. Its very simple. When he gets his refund from the IRS, he mails it to Me.

We both agree that this is simply the correct order of things.

His email to Me this morning:

Dear MsZusa,

Okay, i am back from the Post Office. i am a little afraid to even think about it. i start to get all wobbly and my knees get weak.

So You really turned me inside out and upside down last night. i actually wanted to ask Your assistance in getting me writing. A little help with motivation and deadlines from You, i thought would do wonders.

But then You took me down deep. It’s really not even fair how You can drop me with just one word: “Sleep!” And deeper and deeper. Where i am so totally and completely helpless.

i felt small and helpless and out of control. maybe once, before i called You, i thought this was just a game, for fun. That it would be exciting, but i could back out whenever i wanted. No danger at all. i could experience the rush and the thrill, but if it got too intense i could always back away. guess i was wrong.

And then the things i confessed, the fantasies i expressed. i don’t even know if they are mine, or You implanted them. But it doesn’t seem to make any difference, cause they are too powerful and overwhelming, that there’s nothing i can do but submit to them and You. And the more i think about it, taking out my wallet and laying it at your feet, it feels both so right and wrong at the same time.

i understand the power of hypnosis. i understand You are a skilled practitioner. i understand You have legions of ways to manipulate men. But this is something more. i like to fantasize about falling under Your Spell, but it was always just a fantasy. Now, not so sure. If You can control and twist me so utterly completely, i am beginning to think it has to be a Spell.

Traditions are a lovely thing.