Heya, sweeties, this past weekend I released a new file in my Evil Hypnotist series. This series focuses on one of the classic mind control fantasies: you have an embarrassing problem and seek out a hypnotist looking for help. She’s professional and comforting and you willingly let her into your mind. Then she reveals her true colors, humiliates you, and twists you even further until you’re her devoted toy.
Good Boy Training specifically focuses on making men feel like submissive, inferior pets around women. Particularly any woman who calls them a “good boy”. In just a few listens, you won’t be able to help that growing submissive urge, and we both know that’s for the best!
For more like this, check out the rest of the series!
Respair (n.), English all the way down. Also rare and usually considered obsolete. This word was not my idea. Rather, credit goes to a tweet that went flying by on my timeline a few days ago. I’m sorry I don’t remember your name.
A fun thing about language is that it can be fairly modular. Which is something authors and poets have exploited since time immemorial. And so it is with respair. Despair is a word that comes to us from the French through the Latin. It’s origin is in the word esperer: to hope. The de- prefix was added to indicate a situation where one was without hope. Somehow, in English, hope took a different route to get here, but we kept despair.
However, a historian in the 1400s needed a way to talk about a return to hope after a period of despair: a coming out of the darkness. And he looked at the word, chopped off the de- and added a re-. The re- prefix has always had a sense of going back (thus returning, receding, etc.), and so with it he created respair. The return of hope.
As far as I can tell, the word never really caught on. But I like it. Nice to have a word at hand for when things do finally get better. Because we can hope they will.
Vignette (adj.) comes to English from the French (where it is spelled the same). It first started showing up in the 1750s and remains in moderate use today. I picked this word because I wrote one earlier this week. In that context, a vignette is a short written sketch providing a slice of a character or scene. But that wasn’t its earliest usage.
The most literal meaning is “little vines” and it was originally used to refer to the ornamentation at the edge of pages that often (but not always) took the forms of vine-like patterns. These designs were often used to fill blanks spaces in books and to some extent persist today.
The word was then adapted to similar elements in architecture and design. Rarely it was even applied to literal vines on trellises, balconies, columns, etc.
At some point, around century after it entered the lexicon, the meaning shifted. It’s unclear why. Photos of the head and shoulders, especially those with the edges trailing away softly, began to be referred to as vignettes and eventually so did short passages of characterization and description in text. Vignettes began to refer to brief scenes by which you would study a small piece of a character or story apart from the main plot of the work. Folk etymology may suggest that this usage became popular as these short pieces were adornment and embellishment upon the body of the work, much like their graphical predecessors. However, that’s just supposition.
Regardless, I’m going to be using the term vignette to refer to short, evocative pieces from my life. Little slices for our enjoyment to get a better taste of me.
I opened the door and stepped out to the porch. The Louisiana summer evening hit me like a physical force and I turned to look back in at the party and the laughter. She was walking towards me and I couldn’t help but smile as I held the door for her. If I looked oppressed by the heat, she looked like she could thrive in it. Funny that, even though we were both born and bred in the South, she takes to it a lot more natural than me.
“You good to drive?” She checked as she went up on her toes to kiss my cheek. My arms automatically wrapped around her and pulled her close, as I kissed her back on the forehead.
“Yup. You know me.” I said with a grin, already feeling the slight tinge of a headache from when the third margarita had told me I’d reached my cut off point a couple hours ago.
“They’re gonna make fun of you for leaving early,” she said, with a teasing little grin as she stood on the toes of my boots to put my lips in easy reach.
I lifted her chin and looked her right in the eyes: “And what about you? You know that you only have to say the word and I would stay.”
“Sap,” she said and kissed me again, short and quick, “And nah. Can’t leave your clients disappointed.”
I smirked, “I mean, I didn’t explicitly say that I was gonna go put on the red light…”
“I know. But I also know your schedule.” she said as she hugged me tight. “Thank you for staying for as long as you did.”
I rested my head on top of her head and ruffled her hair with my free hand and took in the scent of her. “Of course, they’re your friends. I know things like this mean a lot to you.” She just hugged me tighter.
Eventually she let go and stepped back. “Okay. Go be mean to boys and make money and have fun.”
I laughed a little and smiled at just how lucky I was. “Always.” I said and stepped down from the porch and into the evening to do just that.
Sisyphean (adj.) comes to English through the Greek, and unlike last week’s word we know exactly where it comes from. It came into use in the mid 1600s (which honestly seems late) and is fairly rare in current use.
Sisyphus was, simply put, a cheating bastard. And he was good at it. Good enough to cheat death twice. After sufficiently pissing off the gods, either Hades or Thanatos (sources vary) was sent to drag Sisyphus to the underworld and bind him in a chair as eternal punishment. This was special treatment, as usually Hermes was sent to retrieve the souls of the dead. Hermes, psychopomp with elements of a trickster, would likely not have fallen for Sisyphus’ plan.
Sisyphus asked the god to show him how the chair worked. And, somehow not anticipating what was to come, the very embodiment of death and/or the underworld sat in the chair and was bound. This led to nothing being able to die, and the world becoming a rather unpleasant place. This was obviously an untenable situation, and eventually the gods conspired to make sure their brethren was released. Which once again meant Sisyphus was staring death in the face.
Before dying, Sisyphus gave instructions that his body should be desecrated after his death. And, on arriving to the underworld, he told Persephone such a sob story about how horribly his body had been treated. She was so moved that she let the smug little bastard go back to the world of the living to see to his affairs. Of course, Sisyphus had no intention of returning. Eventually, Hermes caught up with him and dragged him back down beneath the earth, but Sisyphus had enough time in the intervening period to be awful to his family and to basically make a nuisance of himself.
Once he was finally in the underworld for good, Sisyphus was tasked with rolling a boulder to the top of a hill. A hill which, upon reaching the top, the boulder would immediately roll down the other side. And this is where the word gets the meaning it carries today: something resembling fruitless toil towards an unreachable goal.
Baroque (adj.), it comes to English and French through the Spanish (barrueco), but no one knows where it originated. Likewise, I have no idea why this word is on my mind. Dates back to the late 1700s and is still used today.
The Spanish word refers to an imperfect or misshapen pearl. And likewise the word itself refers to the irregular, the asymmetrical, the grotesque, and the odd. It’s often used pejoratively. The term usually gets applies to 17th and 18th century arts to describe the emergence of noise and exaggeration that had been lacking in previous periods.
But despite the pejorative sense, there are things of great beauty in the Baroque. Technical perfection leaves us cold. Perfect symmetry verges into the uncanny. A little emotion, a little excess, and a little imperfection can do us a lot of good.
Heya, sweeties! A new mind bending treat was released just this past week!
My brainwashed series focuses on shorter files (all around 10 minutes) that you can listen to over and over again! Each focuses on helping you develop a submissive fetish towards a particular body part. In this case: Feet!
By the time you’re done letting my magical voice (and the expertly crafted subliminal messaging and binaural tones) work on you, I just know you’ll feel a surge of arousal whenever you look at pretty little toes or a beautiful arch. You’ll never feel the same way about being underfoot ever again!
All files in this series are completely gender and sexuality neutral. If you’ve always been curious about my premium work but haven’t taken the plunge, any entry in the brainwashed series is a great place to start.
For more like this, check out the other files in the series:
Complex (adj.), from the Latin (complexus) through the French (complexe), dates back to the mid-1600s and is still in current use. I used this word earlier today when I referred to biology as “terrifyingly, beautifully complex”, and I thought it was important to explain what that means.
For starters, it does not simply mean “complicated”. Complicated refers to a tangled, difficult, confusing thing with multiple parts. Complex says something about how those parts work together. Complexity requires a certain interweaving of component parts to form a greater whole. Though complicated things can be complex, not all complicated things are.
Imagine you have a thing to assemble. It has three parts: A, B, and C. You attach A to B and then you attach B to C and your thing is complete: A-B-C. From a very simple point of view this could be a complicated thing because it has multiple parts attached together. Now, imagine you have another thing. It has three parts: A, B, and Z. A clearly attaches to B, but Z clearly doesn’t fit either A or B. So you attach A to B and then B acts on A to transform A into X and then X in turn acts on B to transform B into Y. Now you can attach Z after the other two parts have finished interacting with each other: X-Y-Z. This would be a complex situation; the end result is different due to the interaction of component parts with one another. Consequentially, complex things are not easily predictable from their starting state.
That’s how life works. It’s actually a defining characteristic of life. And it makes it extremely difficult to study and understand. The approaches science has used in the past were very adept at handling simple principles, but once we move into the realm of complexity we’re often left grasping. Because the illustration above isn’t really hypothetical: a living system is so complex that the actions of each individual part are changed by each adjacent individual part. And no measure of taking those systems apart and laying out the components can answer significant questions. This is why the Human Genome Project never delivered on its promises. This is why drug development has such a high failure rate. To try to conceptualize a highly complex system is literally maddening, but at the same time, it’s the only way forward.
Sanguine (n. & adj.), from the Latin (sanguineus) through the French (sanguin). Earliest uses in the late 1300s and some uses still common today.
Quite honestly one reason I like the word is the way it’s a bit self-contradicting. As illustrated by the following quote for the show Firefly:
Zoe: You sanguine about the kind of reception we’re apt to receive on an Alliance ship, Cap’n?
Mal: Absolutely. What’s “sanguine” mean?
Zoe: “Sanguine”. Hopeful. Plus, point of interest? it also means “bloody”.
Mal: Well, that pretty much covers all the options, don’t it?
The primary meaning of the word is the bloody one: It refers to any thing of, pertaining to, or containing blood, and particularly the specific red color of blood. It could be used to describe a person or institution that relishes blood or delights in blood shed. The word has also been used to describe someone blushing or just generally red in the face.
To understand the ‘hopeful’ connotation, you have to look to the old medical notion of the four humors. Early medicine believed that all people contained a balance of four fluids called humors: blood, yellow bile, black bile, and phlegm. In any one person one humor could be dominant and have an effect on that person’s temperament. Sanguine individuals, those in whom blood was dominant, were thought to be courageous, hopeful, confident, and humorous. Not quite sure why, but the word stuck even if the medical theory didn’t.
So a sanguine person could be a hopeful happy person, a person who would like to bleed you dry, a person who just happens to be a little red in the face, a person dripping with blood, or any combination of the four!
So I’d like to take a minute to talk about branding. No, not the kind that ensures y’all know my name, rather the kind that is burned into my skin. Since it’s about to time to do it again, I thought it might be nice to detail how it’s done. And fair warning: this post contains discussions of pain and pictures of my breasts.
Branding is an old word for an even older practice. It refers to the act of marking by heat (usually fire). Though today, the type of branding I’m going to talk about is delivered by electricity (which has been called “the brand of Zeus” before, so I suppose the word works). Specifically, it was done with a violet wand.
Violet wands (then called violet rays) are early 20th century medical devices whose medical applications came under the scrutiny by the FDA and which were eventually ruled to be quack medicine. The basic purpose of a violet wand is to apply high voltage, low current electricity to human skin. This ideally results in a situation where there is a great deal of sensation but little to no harm to the recipient. And while their manufacture and sale as medical devices remains barred to this day, they have since found a home in the kink community.
Now, violet wands have many applications beyond branding: they can be used to cause anything from a pleasurable buzz to a tickling to a painful sensation, they can be used for silly party tricks like making a light bulb light up in your hand, or they can turn your whole body into an electrode and allow you to spark up your partner with each kiss and touch. There are numerous vendors and educators throughout the kink community, though my personal favorite is a charming fellow by the name of Dr. Clockwork. We’ve had the pleasure of meeting at a couple conventions, and he has always been a font of entertaining and educating conversation. Do check out his website.
Below I detail Partner and my personal method. It’s just the way we do it, I’m not asserting that it’s the objective best. We use: a violet wand, a contact pad, and a sterilized straight metal pick (rather like a dental pick). I’m aware that there are specialty branding electrodes out there, but when we play we prefer to stick with a contact pad. A contact pad is a nifty device that allows you to make your skin as well as any conductive object you hold an extension of the wand. You become the electrode. Either the top or bottom can hold it during a scene (electricity goes both ways), but we usually let the bottom hold it as this provides a very easy way to safe sign: just drop the thing.
(General Note: As I usually bottom for these things, the next few paragraphs are written from the perspective of the bottom.)
(Safety Note: Violet wands are extremely safe devices but a few rules should be followed. Don’t use near the eyes, avoid getting anything wet, avoid highly combustible substances like alcohol, and don’t use near any medical implants. Metal picks are sharp and potentially a hazard and I’ve accidentally poked myself with mine a couple times by being clumsy. Try not to be clumsy.)
The first step is to wash, shave, and gently dry the area on which you’ll be working. Then, you’ll generally want some kind of guide to follow for the brand. If you have the talent and resources I have known some people who use proper tattoo stencils or their home-made equivalents. We’ve mostly stuck to kohl eyeliner. It makes clean lines, it’s non-irritating, and it easily washes off after. So once you’ve got your skin prepped and your design drawn, it’s time to prep yourself mentally. You need to get used to the sensation of the electricity and get out any jumps and giggles that would be a very bad idea later in the process. This is a great time to have fun and make sure you and your partner are in good headspace before continuing. Also might want to make sure you have the right music on, are well hydrated, and don’t have to pee. This next bit is where it simultaneously sucks and gets super fun.
Your partner will take the metal pick and very carefully bring it near your skin without actually touching. This will allow the electricity to concentrate at the point of the pick and then jump the gap between the tip and your skin, providing an intense, high temperature spark. While your partner is doing this, they’ll need to adjust the intensity of the violet wand to find a point that works best for you. This is subjective, we’ve found that you generally want to find a point near the highest intensity you can handle and then pull back a bit as you’ll have to endure that intensity for a bit of time. Once you’ve found the intensity that works, your partner can begin to trace the design of the brand.
It’s going to hurt. You are literally burning a design into your skin, and that comes with a little pain (and a slight scent of cooking human). The first pass is the worst. Partner and I go back and forth on why this is: one hypothesis is that pain receptors in the surface of the skin are either destroyed or exhausted in that first pass, another is that it may take the duration of the first pass for endorphin production to spike, or both. Either way, the subsequent passes are usually far more pleasure mixed with pain. Music and breathing exercises are the best way I’ve found to work through the early pain. Under the right conditions, it’s very possible to pleasurably space out. Like intensity, the number of passes you’ll want is also subjective but the more passes you do, the longer the brand will stay. My last one was three passes at about three-quarter power on my wand and it lasted a little over a month.
Once you’re done, there are a few more key steps: Remember emotional aftercare for both yourself and your partner. You just did something really intense and cool together, the feels may be running high. As soon as you feel comfortable getting up, gently clean the brand with a mild, anti-bacterial soap. Some folks advise using an irritant to make the brand stand out more, but I’ve never personally tried it and I hear it can make the design ragged. You may want to keep the brand covered for the next few days as clothes may irritate it, though I find that goes away around day two or three. And that’s really it. You’re done…until it fades and you need a new one.
Pictures of my most recent one below. It’s a cute little “<3” heart because it’s a simple design to start with and because I’m a shameless geek (plus I was traveling a lot and it’s a sweet reminder that Partner loves me). There will likely be a musing on Twitter as I try to figure out what to do next.