Today's Document
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Game of Thrones Daily
d e v o n
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Peter Solarz
Xuebing Du
izzy's playlists!
occasionally subtle
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
sheepfilms
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
taylor price
titsay
shark vs the universe
cherry valley forever
art blog(derogatory)
trying on a metaphor
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@harmexpo
spiking my sister's drink with sleeping pills and telling her it's cyanide after she drinks it. holding her while she struggles to stay awake, fully convinced that she's dying. it's ok honey, i know how hard it's been lately, i didn't want you to suffer anymore. just hold on to your big sis while you drift away and everything will be ok. i'll miss you, darling.
God I need to rape you. Yeah, I know you'd pretend for me. You'd probably even get actually scared. But it's not the same. I need to make this hurt. I need to see the betrayal in your eyes. Every boundary we negotiated, every insecurity you've confided, every hole you've got, I intend to violate them. Stop looking at the door, it's locked. Why did you think I suggested a cabin get away?
Oh I'm making you nervous? Quit checking your bag. I told you I'd hold your phone remember? Shut the fuck up about your safeword, we're past that. I always promised you I could get worse but you just kept fucking testing me. You kept trusting me. Shhhh, shhh, save your sobbing. There'll be time for that later. I promise I'll bury you somewhere pretty.
spiking my sister's drink with sleeping pills and telling her it's cyanide after she drinks it. holding her while she struggles to stay awake, fully convinced that she's dying. it's ok honey, i know how hard it's been lately, i didn't want you to suffer anymore. just hold on to your big sis while you drift away and everything will be ok. i'll miss you, darling.
i went to crush on you island and your sister was there grabbing books off the shelves by the handfuls and stuffing them into a shredder. sounds like shes really looking out for you. you're a lucky girl, you know?
this is TNEMM
we were talking about it, like trans girls do, right at the start: 'okay, I'll get on estrogen by the end of the year, I'll have moved out, I'll have a new job' and you roll out a dozen excuses.
and someone has a spare can of estrogel around, and says 'okay we're doing this now. everyone, get her' and five girls pin her down while that someone gets out the can and puts the first dose of gel on the girl and rubs it in.
and sure, she resists, she's supposed to. she's meant to fight it. just long enough to be sure it's real, it's happening, and that she's not getting out of it this time. there's no more excuses. a dozen hands have made sure of that.
and afterwards, laughing and joking about it. how many of us wish that was *our* first time.
lucky girl, right?
In a past life I was an effete little cabin boy on a sailing ship and my job was to go up into the rigging to trim and stow the sails
As I grew up I got taller and burlier like the real sailors and they'd pat me on the back and say how I'd be a man soon just like them and all I knew is that this felt like a great and terrible wave looming over me, and I told myself that this is because I'd no longer be as good on the rigging, the only place I felt free, up there surrounded by the vast blue plain, the first to sight land, the figures on deck mere toys beneath my agile feet, but deep down there was a more fundamental ache, something I would never have the words to comprehend, and I'd lay awake in my bunk at night and sob silently.
cuteness aggression for rival characters who go "tch! I'd NEVER work for you!" awww, but we could make you so much HAPPIER! ohh now just imagine you in a pretty dress and a deadened expression. awww, the more you bite back, the more I'm thinking about that snarl going SLACK on your face, sweetheart!
Something particularly sadistic, in that I basically want to hard-induction ego-bruise her soul with these vivid blows of well planned dystonia until it's forced into a new shape we both know it prefers (or whatever's LEFT prefers.) <3 <3 <3
Hey! I just asked around and everyone at the party is in agreement that you should get naked! You don't mind, right? You don't have to do anything else! Just stand around naked! The rest of us will keep our clothes on, so it won't be weird or anything!
identity
is just a series of choices, really
we like to elevate it to something very core, very immutable, as if the choices we make surrounding it are merely an expression of the colour of our soul. an endpoint, right? a reflection of who we are, not who we are in itself and maybe that's true! i'm not gonna knock that viewpoint, of course. i see its merits. but indulge me for a moment, and think about it like this
the name "Mezz" is a choice that i make every time i say it. when someone asks me what my name is, i have a choice: i can tell them it's Mezz, or i can tell them it's Max, or Percy, or Riley, or any other name that i want. to them, that'll be my name. that will be my identity. maybe the colour of my soul is different, maybe my "real" name is inexpressible, but between them and myself, my name is a choice that i make.
here on world famous and extremely active hypnosis fetish blog mezz-merizing, we talk a lot about choices, and especially about how our choices can be subverted, and how other people can make choices for us. that's what suggestion is! you make a choice for somebody else, and they accept it. it's not their choice, but yours; their will is subsumed by yours, even if only for a single moment
so then it stands to reason that your identity is a thing that can be controlled as well, right? those very base instincts, those ideas of who and what you are, well- they're choices you make. they're choices that someone with the right finesse to gain your trust, to guide you down into that deep, familiar state of hypnosis can make for you
i think there's something intensely intimate about that, don't you? to give somebody my name, my personality, my voice and my opinions. to a hypnotist, all of these things are mutable. to anyone else, they are things that i control- when somebody asks me for my name, i'm in control of the answer. they'll trust me when i give it to them, and they'll call me that. to a hypnotist, the dynamic is entirely different.
i wonder if, when i tell them my name, it comes across as a simple suggestion? the person i am is fungible, mutable, and ultimately in their control. meeting someone like me, whose will is readily replaced by another's, isn't really like meeting a person so much as stumbling across a blank canvas. with a little bit of work, i could be anybody. i could be any fantasy they desire. identity is just a series of choices, and choices are not always yours. i think that's so so exciting...
Futaba just doing some maintenace, one of my more recent works
It is really quite interesting how many popular dynamics are variants of cgl with the numbers filed off.
The degree to which 'erotic enjoyment of being the kind of thing that ontologically needs support despite its own interests and beliefs' is a common fantasy yet the adult/child power dynamic is so taboo to fetishize that it gets dressed up in outfits so you can enjoy it without thinking too hard about it.
Like, all the authors know. In my experience at least, the best and most popular pieces of mimic cgl smut are very intentional about it. But it's still like. Gives me complex feelings. I'm a strong believer in knowing what you're into and why, but the outfits seem to actively enhance the smut, so I think about it quite a bit.
To be overwhelmed by a greater force that believes that you are the kind of thing that is incapable of agency and holds you down and forces you to agree that this is your place in things.
To be helped by another in countless ways, for the express purpose of taking control from you. To have your attempts at developing agency sabotaged by another who you cannot fight. To be delicately and gently reduced to a non-agentic object by someone else.
To be recognized as a thing deserving of love not because of what you do but because of what you are. For your failures to be expected and understood by someone who simply knows better. To be condescended to as an expression of love.
To be reduced to a state where you can't take care of yourself. Where nothing makes sense and you have nothing you can do but rely on someone else. For this to be seen as affection, seen as a kind of love, for your status as possession to be a gift.
To be held down by someone stronger than you. To be in the presence of something greater than you. To be touched by fingers that ignore your pleas. To be proven to be incapable of understanding the things that really matter.
if i was arguing with someone and they hit me to shut me up i might fall in love with them immediately. <- possibly evil and bad?
What's interesting to me is that part of what deeply attracts me to hypnosis is tied up in the sub that Doesn't Believe in Hypnosis. Which is a bit odd as a standing for a kink to take, I think? Now, note that 'not believing in hypno' takes a variety of forms! It is a spectrum of a thing, turning hypnosis into a fun gift that keeps on giving: when I'm a sub, if you come up to me outta nowhere (as you should) and ask presumptively (as is your right), "hey, Ceep, do you want me to fuck with your head to try and produce x weird really hot state in you?" then I'll reply, "well, who knows how that will go, who knows what automatic edits my mind and personality will decide to make. But it would certainly be enriching and hot to try"! And that enrichment is the real point. All that prep and scenework is only solid sex communication, right, but it's also setting me up for the wow moments, when it really does just work, clicking in all the ways I could ever want it to click. Hypnosis is the gift that keeps on giving. It insists upon you.
But more weird is my position as a domme. Or, like, as a voyeur or smut reader as well, and maybe more-so in those cases... I want you, my idealised sub, to not believe. I want you to see all the busywork of hypno, see it as all so much and so much acting; *you*, dearest viewer, would neeever go under. You would politely take part, perhaps, but simply refuse to act. And then I want you to drop anyway! And then I want your head to droop as you sit there and I want to know I can do anything to you! Because that's hot???
It's like... All hypnosis kink is about how all the reasonable "that's not going to happen to me" masking in the world falls apart and is genuinely weaker than the implicit undercurrent of that denial: "but what if it *did*?". The fantasising becomes automatic. Which is a magic the domme creates through her confidence and subliminal claims about the thing. Hypnosis is something in the world tjha does not care if you would simply not have your eyes droop from watching the pocketwatch, thanks, you're just built different, thanks... Except that up close, hearing the dreadfully insistent patter in your ears, you actually do struggle to follow the thing with your eyes... And, well, if you built this up as being untrue because of those surface elements, and then in practice it is, actually, a difficult thing to sit in that chair and take it... Well, which of other exaggerations are actually true? Can that woman actually brainwash you? Can she make you *want* her to?
(Undercurrent to the denial: if you're in the chair already, does that mean you *already* want her to?)
Love all of this but I also want to stress the raw utility of that sort of surprise as a layer of overload and attention redirection in itself.
Didn't expect your arm to move? Well, it's moving now. Feels weird, right? Oh, arrest it if you want to, but while you're busy doing that your head is starting to sway along my words, left, and right, left and right... And while you're all focused on your body, did you allow my voice to slip right into your thoughts, captivating your focus, pulling you closer and closer in... ah, don't think I didn't see you lean forward there. Oh look, your arm is moving again, did you forget to keep it in place?
It almost makes things easier than with a sub who's completely unfazed to notice you controlling their body.
If a girl came up, said some stuff to me, and then laughed and said "oh my God, it's so easy to plug whatever the fuck I want into that head of yours," I'd self-fulfill that shit and come apart and be hers forever then and there. you have to praise the sub for her malleability now
my amazing digital girltits
As we've talked about before, I spend a lot of time thinking about 'progress' of the self. The degree to which you change over time. How the past shaped the present and how the present shapes the future. Am I really improving?
Then, I think any form of "this past me was better" is harmful, as well as wrong. Your past is contained within you, the things that happened to you still happened. To yearn desperately for it is useless. It's better to focus on the now.
Just as much, I think that fixating on an inevitable future is ineffectual. It's easy to be lost in what could be. To forget that it isn't real. Most important is to focus on now. Both enjoying it and shaping it.
Thus, this version of you, regardless of how you feel about it, can be said to be the highest possible version of you. No other you is possible or exists, every past version of you is lesser. Remember this.
It just so happens that the best possible version of you is a toy drooling in my lap, occasionally twitching where I touch it. Blankly staring forward, repeating the same mantra, and unable to think about anything except what I tell it to. Mine.
