Mar 12
Reblog to trade 10 iq for +1 cup size
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Reblog to trade 10 iq for +1 cup size
watching yourself become dumber and dumber and there’s nothing you can do about it
The horror of noticing you can’t talk like you used to
You try to make a complex point, you feel the thought forming, but your tongue feels thick in your mouth
the words come out slow and simple
soon you forget the complex thoughts altogether
Big words don’t make any sense
It’s hard to say anything more than two syllables
You sound…dumb. And you know you do
You see the pity in people’s eyes
They talk down to you
Slowly
Simply
Like a child
Then one day you try to read a book you once loved
The sentences swim
The concepts are alien
You have to read a paragraph three, four, five times
And then you just
Stop
You close the book
The desire is gone
The ability is gone
Soon even things like text messages are hard to read
then comes numbers
math
logic
they just stop making sense
your friends like teasing you about it
“come on, what’s 8+4?” “what’s 3x5?”
you know the answers
of course you do
but the numbers are just shapes now
no meaning
you guess
“ten?” “sixteen?”
and everyone laughs
not a mean laugh
but worse
a fond, pitying laugh
that’s when you realize
this is permanent
this is you now
simpler
quieter
The number 4
Idris blinked his eyes open, coming back to his senses. His head was in Niamh's lap and he turned to look up at her.
"Back with us?" Niamh smiled down at him, something amused in her gaze.
Idris nodded. He knew the idea for today's scene. Or he thought he did. He'd been pushing Niamh for months to be meaner to him in the suggestions she'd give him while under. Perhaps today they'd finally go into the more extreme ideas he'd had.
"Are you sure? You're not too far out of it are you?"
"No, no, I'm fine, I feel fine," Idris said, all of a sudden feeling worried.
Niamh's brow scrunched up slightly. "I might have been a little intense while you were under. Can you count to ten for me, so I know you're lucid enough to continue?"
Sitting up and trying to project a bit less of the airs of a deeply relaxed, mesmerised subject, Idris did so. "One two three five six seven eight nine ten." Then he noticed Niamh's reaction.
Her face had lost its worried pallor, her mouth struggling to keep in her giggles. He should have known. This was part of the scene.
"Okay, what is it?"
"Nothing," Niamh tittered.
"No, it's something, what was the trigger?" Idris asked, mentally going through everything he could think of. He had all his clothes on, he wasn't aroused (yet), he wasn't even doing anything odd with his hands.
Niamh took a drink then placed the glass back down on the coffee table. This seemed to calm her down. "Just, try to count to ten again."
Okay, that narrowed it down. Was he missing any of the numbers? "One two three five six seven eight nine ten." Niamh turned her head to hide her laughter. It didn't help, Idris still heard her snorts.
"One two three five six seven eight nine ten!"
Niamh kept laughing.
"Nothing's wrong! Are you trying to trick me?"
Niamh turned back around, wiping her eyes. "I think I already have," she said around her spasms. "Try this, hold your hands out and count your fingers."
Idris did so. "One two three five six seven eight nine ten. Eleven." He stared, dumbfounded, at his hands like he'd never seen them before. "One two three five six seven eight nine ten." He didn't get an extra finger. He just had one left over after counting to ten. "How did you do that? Am I counting one twice?"
"How about this. I'm going to count the numbers you say on my fingers."
"One." She held up her thumb. As if he was doing a good job.
"Two." Index finger.
"Three." Middle finger. If he was capable of disrespecting her at this point, he'd love to show her that one.
"Five." She held up her ring finger and Idris finally felt like something was up. "Wait, there's five fingers on one hand. You should have all your fingers up."
"And how many fingers do I have up right now?"
This was the moment he worked it out. Later, he'd be so embarrassed that it took him this long to figure out the trick. "Umm... it's not five fingers."
"It is not."
"It's more than 3 fingers."
"Yes it is. Do you know the word for that?"
"...nope." He was infuriated. There's a number between 3 and 5. He just couldn't think of the word for it.
He couldn't think of the English word for it.
"Un deux trois quatre cinq, quatre!"
Niamh looked genuinely surprised. "That’s impressive, darling! I didn't think you'd bypass the suggestion like that."
"One two three quatre five six seven eight nine ten! Quatre fingers!" Idris felt a well of pride rise in him. That's right! He is smart! An innovator!
"I guess I'll just have to erase that one too..." Niamh said and dragged her hand over his eyes, triggering him back down into trance again.
----
Idris blinked his eyes open, coming back to his senses for the second time. His head was in Niamh's lap and he turned to look up at her.
"We've done this before," he said, groggily.
"We have. Count to ten for me."
"Noooo..." Idris said, nuzzling further into Niamh's lap.
She snapped her fingers a few times, saying "Up, up up! More energy now." It wasn't said in the tone of the order it was.
Idris sat up, coming face to face with his hypnotist. Feeling suddenly very awake was weird when he was still blinking the sleep out of his eyes.
"Count to ten for me."
"One two three five seven eight- wait, there's a number between 3 and 5."
"There is."
Idris whispered the french under his breath. "Un deux trois cinq sept huit... trois cinq. Noooo, Niamh, nooo!"
"You don't get that number. In English or French."
"Well, jokes on you, French isn't the only language I can count in. 四!"
"And I'll take that one too. Sleep for me," Niamh whispered in his ear, gripping his jaw to angle to side of his head towards her and dragging her other hand over his eyes and dropping him down down do w n...
----
Idris blinked his eyes open, coming back to his senses for the third time. His head was in Niamh's lap and he turned to look up at her.
"Count to ten for me."
"One two three... أربعة five seven eight ten."
"What language is that?" Niamh asked, thoroughly amused.
"Arabic. Started learning it recently. It's slow though, I hate having to read cursive." Idris grimaced, his already broken brain remembering the pain of deciphering joined letters.
Niamh petted his hair. "It's nice, sounds pretty in your mouth. I almost feel bad for taking that one too."
"Please don't."
Idris watched a moment of concern pass over Niamh's face. "Real talk, do you want me to stop?"
"No. I like you being mean like this. Kind of want you to be meaner."
"How so?"
"I know you're making me forget things. I want you to make me forget more. Make me dumber and hotter for you. Wanna stop being able to tell what you're doing to me." Idris didn't know if his arousal was part of the "Real talk" trigger, or if he actually got off on being forced to explain his mind but the longer he begged, the more squirmy he became.
Niamh petted his hair some more and Idris remembered some of the kittenspace scenes they'd had recently. He let out a happy trill as he leaned into the touch.
"Okay, sweet boy, what you're going to do is count your fingers again. In English please."
Idris raised his hands again. He didn't want to look away from his hypnotist's face but he needed to to count. It couldn't be helped.
"One two three five," he grimaced, knowing he was missing a number, "seven eight ten." There were 3 fingers left over. The knowledge that he was missing more went straight to the pleasure pooling in his stomach. He looked up at his hypnotist, not sure if he wanted to beg for an explanation or for worse treatment.
"I'm going to put you into trance again, sweet boy. Are you okay with that?"
Idris nodded enthusiastically. Niamh dragged her hand over his eyes again and he relaxed back down into trance.
----
Idris blinked his eyes open, coming back to his senses. He didn't know how many times this was now. His head was in Niamh's lap and he turned to look up at her.
"How many fingers am I holding up, darling?"
Niamh was holding fingers up.
"Those are fingers."
Niamh smiled encouragingly. "And how many of them are there?"
The question didn't make sense to Idris. "You're holding up fingers."
"That’s right. Can you count them?"
Idris knew the answer to that question.
"No."
"No?"
"No, I can't count them." Idris felt the warmth of the correct answer wash over him.
His hypnotist put her fingers down. "And why can't you count my fingers?"
"Because I have no numbers."
"Very good."
Being called a dumdum and silly/being talked down to gently by men shouldn’t make my head spin but reading it makes me all excited 😵💫 is that bad?
tryin to make a list of ways to stop seeming smart!!
so far ive got
1) if i dont understand smth, say so! don't pretend to know things. its rude an its kinda hot to be explained to anyway...
2) syllable limit! smth like "dont use words with more than 3 syllables"
but i dunno what else...
everybody has been so nicey an teachin me that im a dumb helpless toy!! jus wanna make sure i show it so no one ever thinks im a smart capable person instead!!!
I wonder how many times I can insist I'm just too smart to be hypnotized until It snaps and rewrites me to be new levels of stupid<333
My big awakening for intelligenceplay happened when I was VERY young, about 12, and came from this Ghosts of Fear Street book (basically Goosebumps "for teenagers", though the writing style was largely identical) called The Ooze. It's about a kid who finds this alien goop in his basement that devours intelligence the longer you hold it, and the entire book is him and a bunch of his friends gradually raising and lowering their intelligence by interacting with it. I remember the exact scene that made it all click into place was at the very end, when the main character's polymath older sister who's been an asshole to him throughout the whole book accidentally stumbles upon the defeated Ooze, and the main character speculates that "hopefully being dumb will humble her a bit", which was just... INSANELY hot to me. I distinctly remember not knowing how to articulate how I was feeling, so I ran up to an old ratty laptop we had upstairs and start googling "brain shrinking" and "brain control" on YouTube because I wanted to see if there was anything more like it. That ended up eventually leading me to MCStories, particularly the works of Limerick and MrGrey, and the rest was history.
Oh neat, I looked it up to see a plot summary only to recognize a cover and realize I actually had that book on my shelf behind me. So I just reread it (it's very short) and yeah I can see how that would really awaken something in you if you were super into intelligence play. I'm not really, but I do like the idea of dumbing down your smart asshole sister.
His parents are huge assholes in it too, he's literally going up to them like, "hey I messed with the chemistry set even though you told me not to and I think I made something really dangerous" and they just scold him before taking his sister out to dinner.
I'm kinda surprised I don't remember reading it as a kid, maybe I just got it mixed up with the monster blood books? or the ooze got a bit of my brain...
""Ugh I wish I was stupid and could just be dumb enjoy things" Ya fr its so fucking exhausting *takes notes* enjoys being dumbed down
"I fucking wish I could enjoy unrealistic bullshit" Valid as fuck *Scribbles down* use logic against them