Fingers
Added 2020-11-12 16:46:39 +0000 UTCA group play microfiction. Well. The idea of being tranced by a bunch of people in turn, over the course of an evening. More and more suggestions being put into you. Until the final hour, when people get to play with you however they want. This just focuses on one of those people.
* * *
The fingers danced before you. You didn’t know whose they were at this point. The number of people who had tranced you had just become a blur of different focuses, and dropping, and then waking with another person before you.
There had been pocket-watches, pendants, eyes, even a very pretty spoon. But this person preferred a “hands-on” approach. Well. Hands were involved. And it was so easy to follow them. Your tranced-out mind wasn’t even registering what they were saying.
Just that you needed to follow them. Your heavy, tired eyes were glued to them, just as they had been to many objects this evening. And as they moved down, you nearly tipped forwards, eyes closing into trance. But they came up at the last second.
And you were up a little. But you had ben so tantalisingly close to the point where they could just speak directly to your mind. Give you their own fun little suggestions. You had so many in you at this point. It was wonderful. You were wonderful.
What would they give you? Good feelings? Something silly? Maybe they’d make you unable to talk? Maybe they’d make it so you couldn’t stop speaking your thoughts? Their hand was sliding down again. Maybe they’d make you feel-
Darkness. Hands catching you as you tumbled forwards into trance. Blissful oblivion. An awareness of dropping deeper, and deeper. Of submission, and the beautiful pleasure it brought. And when you were up, you were looking at a crystal, hanging from a string. Someone new.
