It's like... it doesn't really feel like hypnosis. I mean, not that I've ever been hypnotized before, but it doesn't feel like what I expected to feel when I allowed myself to to look into Noah's warm hazel eyes and listen to his smooth baritone voice. I thought I'd feel wave after wave of irresistible drowsiness, settling onto me like drifts of new-fallen snow and leaving me slumped over on the couch in limp and helpless immobility as my eyelids fluttered shut, but it doesn't really feel like that at all. It's more like I'm watching myself watch him, perfectly aware of everything that's happening but somehow unable to exert the effort to stop it.
It kind of reminds me of those days... I'm sure everybody gets them sometimes... when work has just been brutally frustrating and your stress levels are sitting at an eleven and all you want to do is go treat yourself to French fries or ice cream or whatever your personal vice is. And you tell yourself, "I really shouldn't be doing this," and you tell yourself, "I said I wouldn't do this," but at the same time you're kind of watching yourself go through every step of the process of turning off at the entrance to the drive-through and ordering the fries and at some point you simply accept that the decision was made without any real input on your behalf? It's a lot like that. I didn't make a purposeful, intentional decision to go into trance for Noah. It's just kind of... happening.
I mean, I guess I did decide, when he started talking to me about hypnosis and I said, "That sounds interesting--can you really hypnotize someone?" Noah offered to show me what it was like and I gave a sort of affirmative shrug that wasn't really much of a yes but definitely wasn't a no, either, because I guess I thought he couldn't actually do anything real with it even if I also didn't think he was bluffing. Because... because like I said, I've never been hypnotized before. The only thing I had to go on was old TV shows and kids' cartoons, and I was pretty sure it wasn't going to be like that.
It's not. It's, um... it's way nicer, for one thing. Like, when I started staring into Noah's eyes, I expected I'd just start getting sleepy and then I'd flop over and then, I dunno, I'd wake up thinking I was a pop star or clucking like a chicken or something silly and fun. Something safe and expected and maybe a little bit embarrassing. But instead I feel like my body is very slowly drifting out of my control, like I'm taking a gradual curve on a wet road and I can feel my efforts achieving less and less with every passing moment. I can't stop the warm, flushed sensation in my cheeks or the hot tingling in my arms and legs. There's something really powerful and profound about it and I can't make myself stop enjoying the way he makes me feel.
But it's not the bad kind of 'can't'. I don't feel pinned down, or drugged, or anything like that. I'm distinctly aware of the knowledge that if I ever decided to break the spell of Noah's voice and get up and walk away, I absolutely could, instantly. Whatever hypnosis really is, it's not a magic spell or a superpower and I'm not like the helpless victim in a Nancy Drew novel or something. That's kind of a relief, because the party's gradually beginning to clear out and the room Noah and I are in is completely empty now apart from the two of us.
At the same time, though, I also have to admit that my desire to make any decisions at all keeps receding further and further into the distance with every minute I spend gazing raptly into his eyes and letting my breathing settle into the same easy rhythm of gentle rising and falling as the cadence of Noah's speech. It's not that I can't look away from Noah's dark, glittering pupils, it's that I don't want to... but I don't want to because I can't want to. That part of me isn't in charge anymore. It's been reduced to a passenger, watching my facial muscles relax and my jaw slacken and my whole face transform into a blank expression of mesmerized fascination with Noah's words.
And I know Noah's doing this to me, but at the same time his hypnotic spell feels so delicate and gentle and comfortable in its control that I can't help feeling like it's really me who's too weak to resist. Like that late-night midnight snack, or the decision to let one more video autoplay before turning off the computer and going to bed, this feels much more like a failure of my willpower than any kind of overpowering of my strength with his own. Noah's telling me what to do, yes, he's telling me to sink deeper and stare longer and sink into blank, blissful fascination for him, but I can't help agreeing because it truly is the easiest and most pleasant thing to do. And I'm too lazy to struggle right now.
I'm very aware that I truly am taking the path of least resistance right now, in the most literal of senses; I'm doing what feels good, recognizing the consequences in a vague and abstract way without any ability to summon up the willpower to care about any of them. When Noah tells me that hypnosis is an intensely pleasurable experience for many women, even an erotic one, and he gives me permission to enjoy those feelings if I really want to, it's an almost embarrassing relief to acknowledge the tingling throb between my legs. I know I should be offering at least some kind of nominal struggle with my arousal, but I'm not in charge anymore and there's no use pretending I am.
I can feel clear saliva trickling down my chin now, my jaw so completely relaxed that I can't even remember how to close my mouth properly, and I get a weird satisfaction out of knowing that this, at least, is the kind of hypnosis I expected when I agreed to stare into Noah's eyes and let myself slip into trance. I thought I would be drooling, I thought my eyelids would be getting heavy, I thought this was all some kind of trick to loosen my inhibitions and get me horny for Noah's body. I only really counted on that last one, but my body has other ideas now and I'm not really making the decisions anymore. And as I shift position, spreading my legs even wider and exposing more and more of my smooth, pale thighs to Noah's gaze, I come to realize that some parts of my body are a lot more in control of me than others.
