NEEHU 4: Thursday
This series will be my magnum opus of kink.
This post is preceded chronologically by the prologue.
Only posted 3 months later, almost to the day... I'm looking at you, people that joked it would be a 6 month wait!
Thursday, March 14th, 9:30 pm
I pull into a spot at the hotel and scramble for my phone, hastily, even as I put the car into park.
First, I text SpiralTurquoise (Spiral! Who-was-the-first-person-I-ever-really-talked-to!) to tell him that I'm there. He had texted me when he arrived.
And then I shuffle through my contacts, press the “call” button, and Mephki (Mephki! Who-runs-the-con-and-who-I-haven't-seen-in-a-year!) says, “suite 611,” after we exchange hellos. So I drag my luggage out of my backseat, fumbling with the keys when I go to lock the door. The wheels of my suitcase bump merrily against the pavement as I set off, and my pace threatens to throw it off course.
I'm here. The night air is chilly, but the hotel looming above me promises warmth.
The sliding doors open into the bright, tiled lobby, and SpiralTurquoise is just standing there, to my left, checking his phone. I've seen him online before, but he's there, in the flesh, and I can't stop myself from putting down my things and rushing in for a hug. His face lights up when he raises his gaze, and we share a lovely, real, in-person hug, oblivious to the staff at the desk.
“You're a person!” I say happily, and he giggles, knowing exactly what I mean, and we do the 'hello' thing. After we've finally let go of each other and squeed enough, I retrieve my belongings and he leads me to the elevator.
“Suite 611?” I say to him.
“You might need a card-key,” says a man behind the desk, before Spiral can speak; helpfully, not unkindly.
I blink and stop for a second, caught off-guard. “Actually, I think it's my friends'–”
“I think there's a bunch of people up there right now,” says a woman next to him, pleasantly.
“Oh, go ahead then!”
I grin and SpiralTurquoise pushes the button for the elevator as I wonder how much they know about what's going on this weekend.
Opening the door to the suite feels unreal. It's a lovely room, with a spacious and immaculate living area and kitchen, two doors leading to what must be bedrooms on either side. And it's filled with some faces and voices and names I recognize, and some that I don't.
“Hello!” I say in a loud, sort of broad, general way. Some look up and wave, and I realize, seeing their faces, that even though a few of them might know my name on the internet, fewer of them would recognize me IRL. I know before I say my name, I'm still anonymous. It's an odd feeling. The two that I know the most, AmHypnotic and MentalConfetti, will not be arriving until Friday.
But PhotoJoseph, who I'd met at hypnoclub last June, comes over for a hug and a hello, and I can't stop grinning.
“I have your shawl!” he says, and I grin, remembering that I'd left it at Mephki's apartment so long ago.
Mephki, in particular, is off to the side near a laptop, and I once again drop my things and walk over to her for a hug that I've wanted for too long.
“Hi!” I squeak, “I've missed you!”
“Sleepingirl!” she says, and I grin further and meow.
And very suddenly, it feels like the last time we saw each other – again, June, almost a year ago – was just yesterday. It feels like I've never left.
She of course is busy doing Mephki things and scurries off after a moment or two while I tuck my belongings into a corner, SpiralTurquoise tagging along. We had planned to visit the hotel's pool and hot tub; it's apparently NEEHU tradition on the first and last nights.
“Pool?” I say, cheerfully but almost distantly. This doesn't feel real yet.
“Sure!” Spiral replies. “Let me go get my things; they're in my room.”
“Wait, are you guys going to the pool?” PhotoJoseph chimes in. “Wait for me!”
And so SpiralTurquoise and I don our bathing suits and spend a little time making conversation with those in the suite. I shake hands with many, put a few more faces to names.
Of note, a man with curly hair and some impressively high-prescription glasses comes over to introduce himself.
“Hello,” he says, “I'm HypnoMedia.”
I blink. That's a name I recognize. That's a site I've known for ages.
“Hi!” I say, shaking his hand, grinning, “I'm sleepingirl. I know your internet things! They're wonderful.”
“Thank you,” he says quietly. “I love your blog.”
It feels like I've arrived.
I sheepishly tell him how appreciated that is and, after a moment of pleasantries, excuse myself to latch onto Spiral's arm and investigate the laptop that Mephki had been on, which we realize is logged into chat.
I can't help but type excitedly and wave to some of my favorite people, pointing dramatically and enthusiastically to SpiralTurquoise, trying to show chat that we are in the same freaking place. SpiralEyed, my partner in crime across the states, greets me with an ecstatic “SGGGGGGGGG!” Everything feels right in the world.
Eventually, SpiralTurquoise and I (Joseph not far behind) head down to the pool, even though it's past closing hours. We know that there are (our) people still down there. So I find us knocking on the door and being let in by cheerful folks that I don't recognize but immediately somehow identify as one of us.
We exchange hellos and Spiral and I get into our bathing suits before walking (and certainly not slipping a bit) to the jacuzzi.
I can only barely identify MarcCabot from the people there, and the small tub is full with probably ten people sitting around and inside of it. Our introductions are almost unheard; there is a near-deafening roar of the jets and the echos of the room around us.
However, upon further conversation, there's a phrase I hear a few times, that I'll continue to hear over the weekend, and I never get tired of it.
“Oh, you're sleepingirl!”
...So... Turns out that's cool. That's really cool. It does nothing to help soothe the impending soreness of the grin across my face.
Spiral and I have cuddles in the jacuzzi and pop back and forth between there and the pool until we feel satisfied, then dry ourselves off and head back to 611.
It's a bustle of activity, people talking in groups around the couches, in the kitchen, in the bedrooms. Everything feels alive, and I'm beginning to feel at home.
SpiralTurquoise has been hinting at me since I got there that he has plans for me, and while I've wanted to take some time to say hello to everyone, a wonderful person called Najalaise mentioning “activities” (yes, in that sense) inspires me to poke him.
“So...” I say. “Activities?”
He grins, and we slink out of the suite and head up to the room he's staying in.
Spiral clicks the lock shut behind him and I suddenly get those little thrills again from when I was a teenager, hoping that no one walks in on us but knowing that we're going to be doing something fun.
Honestly, I wasn't sure how long it was going to be between the time I arrived at NEEHU and my first trance. I hadn't been doing a ton of hypnosis lately. It feels almost like it might be difficult to get back into the swing of things.
“I think you'll like this one,” Spiral says, cheerfully, and there's a bit of an edge to his voice.
He tells me to take his hand, and my brain knows just what to do. The fingers of his free hand flit in front of my eyes and it's just too familiar to be able to ignore.
With a tiny smile, It's the Butterfly Induction, I think but don't say.
It's easy enough to feel the shift of focus and it's a welcome gesture to feel my arm tugged down, losing myself to trance. I haven't done this particular induction a lot, but I know it inside and out. My brain, at least, knows it quite well enough.
As my head drops forward, I have this faint sense that my I may have bumped something...
But he's deepening me and I let that too slide away, relaxing into the arms of a friend.
After a few moments, he brings me up again.
“Did my head knock into something?” I ask with a small smile. He giggles.
“Yeah, hit your head on mine,” he says, “at least now I know what problems that induction might face in the future!”
We share a laugh before he starts to really get down to work.
The suggestions he gives me are a variation on what he likes to call his “Three-Pronged Hypno-Beating”... In my case, “Flog” produces the sensation of a flogger across my back, “Spank” is a smack on the ass, and “Burn” (my personal favorite) is having my nipples lit on fire. It may be worth noting that I am a fan of real fireplay.
He doesn't squander the chance to pull out his pocketwatch, either, and I give him a small, blushy smile when I see it glint before me. It doesn't last – my mind, at his direction, is being pulled into it, and that's just a lovely sensation.
“Burn,” he husks into my ear, holding me from behind, and I gasp at the heat, even as I can't look away.
“Very nice,” he says, and just like that, we're playing. I don't have time or thought to spare on how comfortable and familiar I am with him even after all this time, but it shows in how readily the spanks make me jump, how I can feel the leather of the flogger against my back. (Yep, Spiral, it was a leather flogger!)
The sensations are melded together smoothly, one impact to the next, fire on my tits, leaving me with gasps and a flush and begging eyes at one very pleased-with-himself SpiralTurquoise.
I am made to kneel. I am made mindless. I am made to chant for him as I feel a flogger and fire and spanks, and everything is wonderful.
We eventually find ourselves sitting on the couch, my back to his chest, and our play transitions neatly into cuddles that have been overdue since we first chatted. My brain is cleaned out of suggestions for the evening.
“Well, there's my first trancing at NEEHU,” I say with a smile, still a bit breathless.
“What did you think of it?” he asks, hugging me.
“I am pretty darn pleased,” I reply, and he and I share squees and happies and post-scene chatter.
We walk back into 611 shortly after, and I feel bizarrely juxtaposed between “prideful” and “blushing schoolgirl”. It's fairly obvious what we have been up to, and as we slink back into the room, several remarks of “sex hair” – “trance hair?” – are made. We're berated, in gentle jest, for having “activities” beyond prying eyes. I can only smile, perhaps a bit distantly, and giggle.
The laptop, I see, is unattended, and I simply must hop over to say “hi” to chat.
They greet me enthusiastically and I wave, relating a bit of what had happened in my absence, and Mephki wanders over to my left.
“Can I pull your hair?” she says, abruptly and excitedly.
For that split second, my heart stops – hair-pulling inductions are a thing that she's done before – and that's exciting and slightly nervewracking but also exciting –
“Yes!” I exclaim, too enthusiastically.
Her fingers thread through my hair, gripping slowly but just tight enough, already feeling myself losing grasp of full awareness –
– And with the tiniest, gentle urging from her, feeling my eyes slide shut peacefully, the rest of the room and chat unforgotten but so, so unimportant with her nails against my scalp –
“Oh, and there's some beautiful eyelid fluttering right there, that's lovely...”
I recognize her praise, dimly, and want to shudder in delight, but settle for a small sigh.
She speaks lowly to me for a few moments before bringing me up...
“So happy and excited for NEEHU... That's right...”
Excited for the days to come. Thrilled to be here. So very, very pleased to finally be at the hotel, to get this thing going, to be a part of this experience.
...How fitting for it to hit me then, in trance at the hand of another, whom I trust and respect and can't wait to help with the con.
There's a grin on my face, and I might be giggling as I open my eyes.
I fill in what's happened to chat, and, moments later, to a grinning SpiralTurquoise who had observed from the other side of the room. My speech is high and aflutter; two trances in, and I'm feeling a bit less than fully conscious.
Then I notice, out of the corner of my eye, that MarcCabot has gone to get his bag – it's the kind that a doctor might have, but I know what's probably in it.
But I purposefully turn my attention back to Spiral and chat for the moment until I hear his voice.
“Oh, sleepingirl,” Marc calls, almost sing-songy.
I turn and see him holding a pair of hypnogoggles he'd purchased from the post I made. I'd known that he'd gotten a pair (he and I find each other in chat every so often), and I had approached him a week or two prior about possibly getting to try them.
“Is this happening now?” I ask, almost rhetorically, voice a little too high-pitched. He nods solemnly, but playfully. I flail and go to take a seat next to him, and the thing is handed to me.
“Would you like to try them?”
Oh, just fucking answer him.
Suddenly, people have made a circle around us.
“...Do we really need an audience?” I ask, twinging a bit on shrill, but actually nonplussed, or perhaps a little bit excited.
“Would you rather me or Spiral do the induction?” It seems that they are worried about my comfort level. I think for a moment.
“They're your goggles,” I tell him. “You should do it... if that's alright.” Spiral pats me on the head, gives me a “you ok?” look, and then ruffles my hair when I give him a small nod.
“It's more than alright,” MarcCabot says, and though my eyes are averted I can hear the hint of a smile. “Is it OK if I touch you on the shoulders?”
I nod again, and settle into my chair. I'm... a little bit nervous. It's been a long time since I've tranced with someone new. Especially in-person. But I know the drill. He hands me the goggles, and I inspect them with just a smidge of gleeful anticipation.
“I'm scared!” I whine, mostly-facetiously and half-excitedly, then take a breath and put them on.
They're... shiny. Each eye is looking at a sort of wheel of color, moving not-quite-in-synch, and shifting smoothly from one hue to the next...
This is straight out of a fucking story. I blush as I realize what will probably happen next.
Joking comments are made around the room asking when the goggles make me go under. I feel the pull then, knowing that I've been ignoring it because I don't know if I'm supposed to yet.
But this inquiry is permission, and my brain takes it.
“You can see her breathing slowing down a bit; there it is,” says MarcCabot, and I know hypnotic language when I hear it, but that doesn't stop my breaths from slowing...
“And there, her shoulders are dropping...”
My whole body is relaxing into it, and though it's been a while since I've been brought down to trance slowly, I remember what it feels like. The lights in my eyes are icing on the cake.
“There she goes...”
I can feel my head drooping down a little...
“All the way down...” And simple as that... I'm there...
There are colors in my eyes and words in my ears, and hands rocking me from side to side, gently...
“Now, sleepingirl, what's your favorite color?”
I don't even have to think about it.
“Purple...” I say quietly.
“Purple,” he says. “That's a very pretty color...” I nod. “Every time you see that color, just like that--” and the goggles go through blue to purple again, “--you'll go down just a little bit deeper...”
Even as drowsy and out of it as I am, I recognize the cyclical nature of the lights and his suggestion...
He deepens me further and, at some point, allows my body to stop rocking, and I sink down even further into the chair.
And then I'm paying attention to his voice again. He's telling me how happy I am about being here, how I'm trying something new, how pleased that makes me... How I should probably smile, because I'm so happy...
It creeps up my face and I feel pleasantly as if I'm in some sort of daze, cheerful and oblivious and relaxed... Maybe... just a little bit turned on... Because the reality of it leaks through the haze of it all, and that's hot, and that makes me happy, too.
And then his words grow funnier and funnier and I can't stop giggling because they're just so hilarious...
Eventually I stop and relax back into it, further back into my seat.
“Sleepingirl, do you like massages?” he asks.
I nod, still staring at the lights, which do not shift in my line of sight even as my head moves up and down.
And he begins talking about how I can feel hands working at my shoulders, and that does feel nice, squeezing and getting some of those knots out...
“And maybe you can feel those hands moving down...”
At my lower back now, massaging and pressing fingers in right above my hips.
“Those are some wicked hands, aren't they? Maybe even a little bit naughty...”
Trailing down my sides, dipping between my mid-thighs and drawing little circles there. I might be twitching my hips into it, just a little, but I'm more wondering if my eyes are open or closed... He'd asked...
One of the hands gropes my ass and I think I twitch and bite my lip and blush.
They continue for another minute or two of me watching the lights before Marc's stopped them, and he begins the process of bringing me back.
I blink my eyes and remove the goggles to see a rapt, silent circle of people around me. It jolts me to response faster than I would have liked.
“Why are you all here?” I shrill, covering my face with my hands. There is laughter, and despite my embarrassment I can't help but share their revelry.
There is chatter and Q&A and requests from other subjects for Marc. Spiral and I retire to talking to chat – who I learn had observed.
And then, most everyone has gone to bed, and it's just a small circle of us in the living room, dark but for one or two lamps. We're just chatting, getting to know one another; building rapport, if you will. Even though we have to get up in an already-too-small number of hours, we're having too much fun.
It's a theme that ends up carrying through my weekend.
But eventually, it's bedtime. SpiralTurquoise has the couch-bed for the night, and I have the floor.
I lay out my sleeping bag on the floor next to the couch, and then look for a pillow and a blanket.
In a strange twist of fate, Mephki had told me that I can sleep under the New Mexican Spotted Flat Cat; the fleece blanket that I had hallucinated was feline when I first played with AmHypnotic in person at her old apartment. Last June flashes through my mind as I take it from the arm of the couch and lay it on my makeshift bed.
And then I pull out the “Flat Kitten” pillow (of similar pattern, that MentalConfetti made for me just a few weeks ago) and plop it down on top.
As I lay down, burying my hands in the leopard-patterned microfiber just to make sure it exists, I realize that another theme of the weekend will probably be the sense of things coming full-circle.
It is very, very hard to sleep.
Friday, March 15th, 3:00 am