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Nurse Jones: The List part 14
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
From: [email protected] (Michael Raymond Feely)
Subject: REPOST: The List 14
Date: 25 Nov 91 09:41:46 GMT
Lines: 228
Reply-To: [email protected]
Clearly, my numbering system is screwy.
>From Nurse Jones,
Well, the hypnosis is progressing. I know, I know, this is
supposed to be something that only a qualified physician should
do. Possibly so. I've asked around at the hospital as much as I
dare, and the verdict seems to be that no lasting psychological
damage could be done, even by a malicious hypnotist. I won't
argue, though, we could be taking a chance screwing around with
his sexuality, but all the authoritative references emphasize
that it is impossible to make someone do something they really
don't want to do. I read one reference (by an MD, not a stage
hypnotist) that said the mythology about the danger of hypnosis
was started by psychologists as a turf-protective strategy.
References: there are hundreds. I used:
LeCron: Self Hypnotism. Signet Pub.
LeCron and Bordeaux, Hypnotism Today. Grune & Stratton, N.Y.
Cooke and Van Vogt: Hypnotism Handbook, Borden Pub. Co., L.A.
Weitzenhoffer: General Techniques of Hypnotism, Grune & Stratton.
All in the local library.
We read and talked it over endlessly. I am more afraid than
he is. I like my men to be men. Not Arnold Schwartzenegger or
Rambo, but not swishy either. Some of the most masculine men I've
known were S.F. gays, oddly enough, and I don't mean the leather
set, either. I guess being confident enough of your masculinity
that you don't feel obliged to demonstrate it 24 hours a day is
my definition of a Real Man. Which makes _them_ more masculine
than the scratch-n-burp types from back home. I like to feel
protected and cared for though, and ... hell, I don't know what I
like anymore
San Francisco, and relearned it in the hospital cafeteria
recently. But I might have tendencies....
I've told J to stop reading ASB. I'll save the fun posts for him
to read later, but here's where I ask for specific advice, and I
don't want him to read it. I finally got a post hypnotic
suggestion to work. I told him he would shave twice on Wednesday
morning because his first shave wouldn't be close enough. I told
him he wouldn't remember the session.
He did it. He says he didn't remember. This is really eerie.
It gave me chills. Feet still cold.
My Plan:
The first step is to work on techniques to get him into a deep
trance quickly. There are posthypnotic tricks that speed up the
process. Right now, I spend all my time getting him into a trance
deep enough to give me some influence. It seems we're always
going down stairs and escalators, deeper and deeper, ad
infinitum. The books say to gauge your success with tests like
"You can't lift your arm," or "You can't open your eyes," etc.
They work. I made his face numb and he couldn't feel pin pricks,
even on his lips. Or kisses on the pin pricks.
But before all that we spent half a week trying to figure
whether anything was happening at all beyond him getting a comfy
lie-down while I droned on at him for an hour. Twice a day now on
weekends. Actually, I'm not really sure it worked, even still. It
seems to have, but I have to take J's word for it. He could have
been faking, bt I don't think so. Besides I trust him. He
believes it worked, I'm sure. Something happened on Wednesday,
anyway.
It was weird, though, I'm tellin' ya.
The techniques are easy, but it's hard work. It just takes
perseverance and trust and a little reading and a positive
attitude.
And he trusts me completely: that's important. Equally
important, he has to want me to do it.
Back to the Plan:
Hypnosis aside, I/we have to create an outwardly female
appearance for him -- all over -- and he probably shouldn't be
aware of the details of the process if he is going to believe it.
He has to look in the mirror afterward and see a woman. Knowing
how I did it would spoil that. It has to seem sudden and
miraculous, even though there is a lot to do.
I'm going to do this from the ground up. I told you I got a
corset in SF? Did I mention I got one for him? He sent his
measurements
no extra fittings, so keep your fingers crossed. And I got shoes
in his size.
I'm going to use a flesh-colored unitard, padded out to look
feminine. I have scads of sterile cotton wadding from supply to
make hips. I have a selection of pastel chalks to sketch on
nipples, navel, details like that. I'm going to try water
balloons, guys, unless you have a better suggestion.
Wig, makeup, fabulous fakes, false eyelashes, I've got tons of
that stuff. He has the face for it. He'd be better looking than I
if he were a woman.
I'm going to convince him his anus is his vagina, and then treat
it like one. Make him a contralto. Make him walk the walk.
Keep the light dim, him under strict control, and my fingers
crossed. But I can see that this is all a long way in the future.
I have a lot of work to do. A lot to develop in his head.
And most of all, I have to make myself feel like I'm making
him up for a play. Or a halloween party. Not changing him on the
inside, not down deep. That way, maybe I won't lose my favorite
top. He's GOT to go from being a definite man to a believable
woman without ME thinking of him as anything ambiguous or icky in
between.
That's the plan, troops. Elf mustered the shining armour brigade
to present medals after the dismemberment of Little Retchid
(shame, shame, I should be magnanimous in victory. But
instead I think I'll be unbearable for a page or so. It just
comes over me, sometimes).
I think, for reasons of public health, Elf also had to relieve
some of you of your battle trophies: various internal organs, an
argyle sock, etc. An unruly bunch.
Anyway, Elf now has my scarf to tie on the end of his, um,
lance. And I have to ask him to muster the troops again. Don't
just stand there shuffling your feet in the dust, boys. I need
suggestions.
Kayvan, stop fiddling with your codpiece and tell me if this
will work. You're a hypnotherapist. Advice! I need advice!
WildCard, drop that scrotum, it's nasty. Besides, it belongs
to Richid and you don't know where it's been. No-one would be
impressed by it anyway. Battle trophies are supposed to be big.
And pay attention, Strider.
And for heaven's sake put away that
pipe wrench. I don't care if it is
kippled. Or squicked.
And Gweeb, come out from behind BlackDouga and get in line.
Wizyrd will make a space for you. I don't think I want to know
what that is behind your back. Come on, let's see it.
Eeewww! That's disgusting.! Explain yourself.
Stop mumbling and stand up straight Gweeb, or I'll put Moon
Knight in charge of you. He didn't get a piece of Richid and he's
NOT in a good mood. (Although I'm glad to see SOMEBODY polishes
his armor...)
Now speak up, Gweeb. What IS that thing?
Arriving too late to get a proper trophy is no
excuse, Odor-Eaters don't count. Give it back to
Richid; he probably needs it anyway.
Now the rest of you, put on your helmets (yft, that's NOT a
helmet and you know it. Give Kayvan back his codpiece) and pay
attention. Sheesh! Talk about motley. Nurse Jones needs advice on
how to top Jay and keep his dignity so I can drop this role of a
half-pint Brigitte Nielsen and go gracefully back to being the
topee.
Maybe it's up to him to keep his dignity....... Help!
Nurse Jones,
reviewing the troops, a butch damsel in diaphanous fatigues,
hands on hips,
smile on lips,
rings on nips.
(deep breath)
Ten-HUT!
Now, boys, I want to thank you all ...
My Goodness!
How on EARTH did you all manage to do that all at the same time...?
Hmmm. Remind me not to take a deep breath next time.
Still, Elf, I'm touched by the gesture.
My scarf looks nice.
Out there.
Wot the hell. (deep breath)
DIS-MISS... Wait!
I'm a top now!
Maybe I'll just leave you like this. After all, it's my post.
(giggle)
Nurse Jones, learning that monogamous
and monotonous
ain't
synonymous.
Even amongus
that be
anonymous,
who's doggerel is an insult to the entire canine world,
and who promises to be nice to Richard from now on, even though
he's not speaking to anyone,
silent
lurking, and
anonymous behind his real name.
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