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Two Seconds

(”Scene” log with @hypnokinkwithmrdream from DMDW)

The way his hand feels, gently cradling my chin, fingers brushing my neck. My head lolls down into it, just the simplest, stupidest thing of him entering into my space and touching me like he knows me is enough to hypnotize me. It feels like a force, a push, something invisible, something biological. Inescapable -- it’s too fast to resist; it happens before I can think about how helpless I must look sinking into it.

That idea that he can play me so well with something so simple is unreal. There’s a gentle movement, fractions of an inch that tilts my chin. Toying with me, moving me, testing motion, tipping my mind over. It’s a calculated touch, it’s a touch full of intent and desire. The movement is purposeful, even if it’s whimsical; he’s controlling me, controlling parts of me to show how much he controls the whole thing. I know it unconsciously and maybe it’s unconscious for him, too.

There’s a sense of entitlement and objectification and the drive to fuck and destroy, and I can feel it coming off of him in waves, but I can feel the way it’s reverent and disbelieving, like he’s treasuring that we get to do this. He wants to break me but he really, really likes me. There’s some physical base need for something but no one knows what it is.

My brain feels impossibly heavy, but my body feels light -- it’s as though I’m in water, moving slow and easy. My head nods gently down to his fingers, and my nerves light up at the touch, eyes rolling more, face going more slack. There’s drool forming at the corner of my mouth. I’m detached from it all, caught up in the sensation of being hypnotized, lush and alluring.

It feels impossible that I’m so easily controlled by him, so easily taken by that touch. His fingers never quite hold me, not firm at all, just cupping and guiding, as though it’s effortless for him, as though I’m playing right into it. Like I’m weightless. Like my mind is a little trinket game that he’s perfect at. Like I’m self-sabotaging.

Words aren’t enough. Words will never be enough. I can’t stand it. It’s fake and it’s bullshit and it’s not real but it is and it exists in the tiny moments that are outside of our universe, from somewhere else, and it’s us breaking through, disproving reality, doing the unachievable.