Come Again? Adventures in Erotic Hypnosis

29thMar. × ’12

Photog Eliot Lee Hazel (thanks for the tip off, anon!)

So, I got “erotically hypnotized” and wrote a story about it for The New York Observer. The story is in the paper (on news stands now) and all you New Yorkers should totally pick up a copy. Promise?

Okay, well the story is online too.

Here is an excerpt:

My own interest in the subject started where basically everything does, online. I clicked something, and something else, and soon I was knee-deep in YouTube videos of Eastern European models entranced by men in bowling shirts, hypnosis blogs… and forums filled with arguments about proper technique. From what I could gather, erotic hypnosis is a fetish, but if its proponents are right, it is also a new form of sex—safe, certainly, but also dangerous-seeming in its own way. Under hypnosis, it was claimed, a subject could achieve a climax without being touched at all. It sounded a little like Erica Jong’s “zipless fuck,” but better. Sex without the muss or fuss, or, for that matter, the pregnancies, STDs or awkward goodbyes. It’s also a twist on BDSM, an expression of sexual power and submission at its most extreme.

On Fet-Life (a “kinky” social networking service), there are 12,490 people who are “Into” or “Curious about” erotic hypnosis—a one-click function similar to the Facebook “like” button. The Hypnosis New York group has 324 members and hosts monthly four-hour meetings.

Arriving at the prescribed location, a rehearsal space in Tribeca, I approached the receptionist. She looked like an actress. “I am here for erotic hypnosis,” I said, trying to articulate clearly, but not too clearly. She motioned to a cluster of cargo shorts and wiry hair, mostly male. My classmates looked like they might have been to ComicCon, which shouldn’t be surprising, since mind control is such a favorite technique of superheroes (and supervillains). They seemed to be staring at me, perhaps surprised to see a young new female student and wondering, since I was flying solo, whether I might be a potential homework partner.

Or maybe they were already trying to make me come? Yikes! If so, it didn’t seem to be working … or?

Nope, not yet.

Read the story at The New York Observer.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Both comments and trackbacks are currently closed.