Knockout Scene - Sirens

In this one, gangsters knock out an entire town using a "pied piper" broadcast from the emergency siren system klaxons across town.

Erotic

I only had a short dream, but it was a hot one.

I was in a house, a visitor who'd popped in to see some friends. We'd been talking about the new building going up at the end of the road, and what it meant for the man of the house. It was a new laboratory, and - as the friend was a scientist - he had applied for, and obtained, an interview for a job in advance of the lab going live. The next door neighbour's wife had dropped in for a chat and to talk about the lab, too.

The institute was looking into behavioural sciences, psychology and similar fields of study. Human behaviour was its business.

And I had brought along a sample of that business - a subliminal sound file, which I'd set up to play in my holdall. I'd turned it on whilst we'd been talking, and the holdall was sitting there between us, broadcasting subliminal signals throughout the whole house.

It was having an effect. Both the neighbour and my friend were clearly feeling strong sexual arousal and attraction towards one another. I heard sounds from upstairs, and went out into the corridor.

At the top of the stairs was my friend's wife, a woman with short blonde hair. She was waiting for me, naked, a huge smile on her face.

Music To Arouse, Part 5 - Pied Piper Track 043

This is an actual Pied Piper track that I use on many of my clients. I've posted it to tumblr. You can download the track from there.

Pied Piper 043 (link opens to tumblr)

Affected, Part 5 - Pizza and Pied Pipers

Cassie:-

I've no idea why I'm doing this; drinking wine and eating pizza in my place, topless, wearing only a pair of jeans, with the guy next door who I hardly know.

I feed him a slice of stuffed crust. 'I don't know you from Adam.'

He chuckles. 'I don't know you either,' he says with his mouth full. Rude.

So we sit and talk for a time about what I'm studying at uni. I tell him that I'm into Literature, and that my thesis is all about Agency and women; in fact, the paper is titled Agency and Women in Literature. A bit boring, but that's academia for you.

So he asks me about what I mean about agency. I tell him that I'm referring to the sociological and philosophical concepts of agency, as compared to the agency theory of business involving conflict resolution between principals and agents - the principal-agent problem. What I've been studying is the literature where the author clearly shows that the female protagonists are showing the capacity to act in the world, rather than be acted upon.

'Sort of like rolling initiative in a roleplaying game,' he says.

I like this man. He makes me laugh.

So I tell him that the point of what I'm on about - women in literature actually seizing control of the situation, rather than being acted upon, taking a stand, engaging with the society in the story instead of being some wallflower from a Bronte sisters period novel, and god I am getting so turned on by this for some reason. As I look at him, I note that his eyes haven't glazed over, he hasn't feigned boredom or attempted to change the topic or mansplain to me. He's been genuinely interested in me.

Or maybe my boobs. I suspect he's been staring at my boobs all night long. Why I've not made a move to cover them up is beyond me. It's like I want to, but every time I think of getting up to reach for a T shirt or my blouse, I forget what I was doing and sit back down again.

'I need a cup of tea,' I tell him. I really do need a cup of tea. Pizza makes me thirsty. I swipe a T shirt from the clothes horse next to the washing machine in the kitchen and put it on while I wait, barefoot on the cold linoleum, for the kettle to boil. I feel stuffed full of pizza, thirsty and so horny.

I hear him get up from the sofa in the living room. I keep expecting him to come into the kitchen and do something. A few minutes later, there's a flush. I feel relieved.

'Do you want sugar and milk in your tea?'

'Actually, mind if I come back in a couple of minutes? I've just got to get something from my flat. Won't be a second.'

I hear the door slam. I sigh. Well, that's the mood killed. I go into the living room alone, with one mug of tea, and sit down to watch the TV.

There's a MP3 on the table. Must be his. Out of curiosity, I slip the headphones on and press play. At first there's nothing.

Then the music fades in, some sort of samba track, just percussion. It seems to be going on in an endless loop, a sort of tribal drum piece, very driving. I get up to take the empty mug to the kitchen, but instead I find myself dancing in the middle of the living room and my T shirt's already on the floor and I have no idea when I took it off again. It might have been before I even sat down and picked up the MP3. I feel hot again, really horny, and I pull down my jeans and step out of them so I can dance naked.

As I'm dancing, I imagine me and him in bed together, afire with lust, me and him moving together, me pulling him deep inside me, our bodies hot and hard and humping, and my hands are touching my breasts and sneaking down towards my thighs.

God, I want to fuck, right now, so much.

My cigarettes and lighter are on the table in front of me. I light up and continue to dance, naked, smoking, my hips just grinding as the music plays. It's just going on forever and I'm daydreaming of fucking everywhere - here, in the corridor outside, in the uni library, me spread across a table in the Student's Union bar with him pounding me from behind and everyone standing around cheering, oh god I want to do that.

The music reaches a climax, and so do I. My body is shaking, and I have to lie down on the sofa to finish the job because my knees are giving way, and when I do come, the pleasure just shoots through my whole body and I am arching in the sofa, my breath catching. I let out a moan, and collapse gently into the sofa again, and my eyes close and I just drift.

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Asimovs and Pied Pipers

Something I have to share with you here.

I regularly use two kinds of instructions on my clients - Asimovs, and Pied Pipers. Both are fun in their own way.

The term "Asimov command" comes from the TV science fiction show Babylon 5, where the Psi Cop Alfred Bester implanted a deep-seated Asimov command inside Michael Garibaldi's brain, blocking him from killing Bester. Think about Isaac Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics, but applied to humans.

An Asimov is a basic mental block; an inhibition against a specific kind of activity. A simple, and amusing, Asimov is to block knowledge of the number six from the subject's mind; he knows there's a number between five and seven, but when it comes to remembering, or articulating, that number, his mind's a blank; the word itself just "on the tip of the tongue."

Your subject would begin counting "One, two, three, four, five ... seven, eight ..." and be totally unable to articulate the number six. Ask him how many eggs are in a box; how many apples are left if you take one away from seven; even the number of the Beast (666); he'll be unable to answer the question because the subject will always feel as if the cat has got his tongue.

This was featured in the episode of The Prisoner where the unnamed prisoner, played by the late Patrick McGoohan, had the number "six" erased from his mind during his torture session known as "Degree Absolute." Bester's inhibition that prevented Garibaldi killing him in Babylon 5 was specifically referred to as an Asimov in the show, but it has been used plenty of times previously.

So, then, what are Pied Pipers?

A Pied Piper is an instruction activated by a very specific kind of trigger - music. Linking an action to a piece of music allows you to activate that behaviour at your leisure, simply by inserting the soundtrack into a playlist on a computer, MP3 player or similar. You could expose the subject to the track during the trance, and instruct the subject to perform that behaviour pattern once they hear that tune or track.

It doesn't have to be music - you could trigger the effect with a sound effect file, the sound of rain or breaking waves upon the shore - but music provides the most satisfactory trigger because so few people actually sit and listen to the music in the background.

Think about the times you've sat in a waiting room, or a garage waiting for your car to be rolled out, or browsed in a shop, or stood in a lift with the muzak humming in your ears. If someone came to you and asked you "What tune was that?" how many of you would be able to identify it, or even realise that there had been music playing at all?

The ideal, of course, in the context of erotic hypnosis would be an Asimov that inhibits orgasm, delaying it until and unless you give the word that ends the Asimov, permitting the pent-up orgasm to be released (which works - I can confirm this through personal experience). And the ideal Pied Piper would be an instruction applied to your victim that would trigger, say, a compulsion to remove all of your clothes and dance erotically when a certain piece of music plays. Again, from practical personal experience I know this does work; I've triggered intense hunger, desperate sexual arousal and other passions from playing sound tracks that I've sent to my clients by email.

The fantasy ideal of the Pied Piper, of course, would be to tie feelings of erotic arousal, nudity and the suppression of inhibitions in a crowd of people working together, then slip triggering tracks such as Suvaco do Cristo, Tafi Maradi or Whimsy Groove into the playlist and let it run ...

So, then, those are Asimovs and Pied Pipers. The former is triggered by a behaviour and activates an alternative behaviour (usually inhibitory); the latter is triggered by an external trigger, activating a dormant behaviour pattern. As long as you can control the conditions of activation, these are both very fun triggers to program.