On being interrogated with a light-and-sound machine


Wiseguy and I talked about this scene at NEEHU and someone wanted to know what it was like to resist a light-and-sound machine.  So I wrote this.  This is a fictionalized account based on my memories of a two-year-old scene.  @hypnoobiwan is a more subtle dude than is reflected here, but again, short account of a years-ago scene. 

The first thing to know about being interrogated while attached to a light and sound machine is that you, almost inevitably, lose track of your face.

“You want to do the right thing” your top says.  And that’s only a little bit true in this context.  But that little bit shows on your face.  Your eye squeeze is behind the glasses, but you don’t hold back a hard swallow and he sees it.

“Giving me the code would be the right thing” And that’s not true.  But he sees that too.

There’s a reason him seeing what doesn’t work is important.  Even tops have short attention spans.  Your attention span gets longer when you’re staring into lights, those sounds in your ears.   You can wait out the clock, imagining how his forehead is creasing.  But only if you can get him to waste time.

And good tops, the hypnotists who can read faces, don’t waste much time.  There’s not much room to calculate your reaction, so a top who can read your face is efficient.

“You want to please,” fuck if that’s not true.  My therapist could tell you stories, Sir.  Not Sir in the BDSM sense, just in the “You’re the one with the microphone making words show up in my head so I’ll treat you with respect that is frankly less ironic than I’m pretending it is” sense.

“It would feel wonderful to please me,” that is also, undoubtedly true.  I do like to feel wonderful and I could be feeling absurd pleasure right now if I gave up the code.    

“Your desire has been building since I first suggested it would.  If you tell me the code, you can have an orgasm.”  And, of course, I get that squirm, the one where I try to shift casually like my back is hurting, hiding the outward manifestation of deep arousal so wanting to escape.  But pleasure alone won’t be enough and he sees that too and seriously fuck him for that.

“It would feel so good to do this for me.  You love to serve and make people feel good.”  I’ve been a top for awhile.  The submissive parts of me are like that abandoned dusty equipment in Star Wars movies, equipment that isn’t sophisticated, but, annoyingly enough, still works when you give it power.

“Do you like being told how Good you’re being?”  Twitch.  FUCK!

“Yes, you do.  I can tell”  OK, I feel like there are people in Russia who can tell.

“You want to be Good.  You want to feel Good.  You want to give me the code.”  Goddamn.  I kind of do.

After ten minutes more of talk along these lines, my mouth opens.  But nothing comes out.  The patterns continue in front of my face.   The binaural beats are in my ears.  But I don’t speak.

“Come on, it would feel so Good to please me.”  Yes, yes it would.  And I don’t want to want to.  But I can hear the beats and see the lights and I know everything he’s saying about pleasure is the truth.

My mouth opens half a dozen more times.  But I can’t say it.

I don’t admit how much I wanted to.

Fuck, this is hot.