The uncharted fascination when two natural shapes combine…
Note: Inspired by the impressive trance stylings and tantalizing pictures of the retired hypnotic dominant known as Zusa.
Have you ever wondered where spirals come from? Ever wondered how old they are in recorded history, or when we discovered them and the powerful effect they have? Truthfully, spirals could be as old as time itself, as often as you see them in nature; in the seashell, flowers, the weather, some types of horns in the animal kingdom, even something as massive as galaxies take spiral formation.
Today spirals have their significance as an eye-catching, attention-arresting phenomenons so easily linked to that special phenomenon we love called hypnosis. You can’t look at a spiral and not think in the back of your mind about the cultural link to hypnosis, if you can think that is, if you haven’t stared at the spiral long enough to let errand thought be funneled down into the bottom of the whirlpool, all too fixated on the shape of its top.
But when did we discover the power of the spiral? When did we realize that it was a shape worth looking at, worth creating and utilizing? Sometimes I think it could simply go as far back as our neanderthal ancestors, down to the time of our absolute, primal simplicity. When we were not surviving, we were learning such basic concepts. Perhaps numbers, primitive speech patterns that meant something, most certainly shapes. Just imagine the first caveman to note the shapes on the wall he drew that had edges, later finding one that had no edge to it. A perfectly rounded figure of a never-ending direction, around and around. Twas one of the greatest accomplishments of human history yet. It inspired the shape to be found and recreated everywhere.
Perhaps one day, another caveman, tried to make a perfect circle, and failed. Yet in his failure, something in him knew he was on the verge of something. With that imperfect, odd-shaped circle, he continued on with his mistake, creating layers upon layers of the same shape, incorrect in his original goal, but reaching a new level of perfection. A new shape had been created, and marveled over in a way that was inexplicable to the eye attached to the brain. They never tried to explain it, it was just too pleasing to look away.
Perhaps this inspired another caveman, maybe one with a long stick, standing in-front of a body of water, to recreate that spiral, to give it motion, to reveal its endless, compelling power. The caveman who created became so fascinated that he silently refused to stop making it. No matter how strained he felt from being hunched over or crouched, no matter the strain to his arm for expending its energy to please the eyes, no matter how other cavemen seemingly lost their sense of whatever their days were filled with as they watched this spiral endlessly overcome those who gave it attention, those who loved it without ever being able to express why, those who would do anything to see it.
Such a powerful phenomenon; the only thing I can imagine that would rival it in its primitive time – the female form. To the male mind, there was, is, nothing more miraculous than the body of a woman. It remains as true then as it is today, you can’t get enough of us. You could trace so many events in human history, of male accomplishments and actions, to the wanton desire for a woman. Can men even discern what it is about us that they love so? There are too many reasons for the lust-addled mind to process. In a much simpler time, there was still plenty to admire a woman for, from the things easy to distinguish between genders, like length and quality of hair, different genitalia, and of course breasts, to things that both genders had yet still garnered heavy attraction from men. In that regard, the strongest argument to be made would most likely be the legs and feet a woman bare.
Whether muscular, toned, tanned or alabaster, any quality they bare is eye-catching, no matter what their primitive thinking minds might say. When a woman walks in public, it would be interesting to know how many eyes are cast downward, watching a beautiful pair of legs carry a woman across any terrain. Women would look at the legs of other women maybe with a silent, approving admiration, knowing the power they carry like their own, the draw that men are helpless to. And they are helpless as they watch feminine legs take one step at a time, momentarily erasing their sense of time, appreciating the stark differences between a man’s legs and a woman’s legs. Some women may be attracted to the muscular strength of a man’s legs, but it isn’t nearly comparable to the arousing feminine wiles of female legs. And what is it exactly that draws them so? What quality do they possess that make men such unwitting captives to what keeps ladies poised and powerful? Is it the more subtle curve of the calves, lithe ankles? Perhaps a full, but still slender knee, thighs that you know have more power hidden beneath but bear equal power from their sight, or delicate, majestic feet that amaze in a subtle fashion, down to those ever-so-cute and kissable toes?
Do men even consciously know how easy it is to find themselves developing a fetish for legs and feet? Has any scientist or psychologist unlocked the mystery behind something both men and women have, but men lack the raw power to fascinate like women can? How would one even begin to know for sure? If a woman conducted the study, it’s not like she can be blamed for finding a test inconclusive about the results, as the woman whose feet and legs are on display and the researcher may conclude that such a trade secret should remain as such, as they fight off the temptation to play with the entranced male subject. And therefore it could be easy to conclude a male researcher could find himself a part of his own study and he studies those stems like other male test subjects, unable to realize how nonobjective he really is, unable to see the smile on the woman’s face to know she has a few more doting admirers on her hand, already ready to wait at her feet.
And all this is before we even get to talk about all the enhancing features and accessories civilization has given women over time. Silky stockings and garters, toe nail polish and special designs made per toe, ankle bracelets, toe rings, mountains of shoes and boots that hint at the bare brilliance of a woman’s legs and feet, and make them even more powerful for it. What would you say has caught you in your lifetime, hmmm? Could it have been just a bare, attractive foot that caught your attention as you wondered why it’s so easy to stare at, and looked away before you were caught staring? Could it have been something as common as a girl next door showing off cute socks, the fabric clinging to her foot like it would yours, but knowing there’s something more significant hidden behind hers, and the feel of the cotton teasing your mind? Maybe it was the oh-so common stockings that women have used to their benefit in every facet of society now. Don’t you just love their shine and shimmer, the colors, the styles? Even nude stockings just do something to a woman’s legs, making you want to stare, making you wonder what you might give to feel them?
If you wonder all of this, then what might have evaded you by now is how did we lose track of that thing we were talking about before the dazzling feet and legs of a woman. What? Have you truly forgotten already? Spirals, of course. Yes, those round, shapely shapes that have become synonymous with fascination. And when you put our conversation together, I’m sure your big question would be what do these things have in common? You know, I queried this to another lovely gentleman earlier, and the conversation got so deep and passionate that he ended up under me. He didn’t see the connection at first, until his eyes fixed on something and just got lost in our conversation, to the point where I was doing all the talking, and he just became so…agreeable, agreeing with everything I was saying, whether he was aware of my words or not. What was he staring at? You might say, the culmination of our talk. I asked the gentleman to imagine what he thought of such a culmination, and for a long, amusing time, the thought of that culmination weighed on him.
The longer I looked at him try to imagine it, the more I was surprised with the words I came up with to describe him –
So very sexy to see what it was doing to him. Of course, it shouldn’t be that surprising, since I too know the effect of just one of those fascinating phenomenons can do to a mind, let alone two, as well as I am aware of what a culmination would look like for real. I would have to be aware, as I’m wearing a pair of stockings and shoes that combine the power to create something utterly irresistible.
Would you agree that my ensemble has at least some allure to it?
Are you able to see that culmination as the lovely gentleman before you did?
Before today, did you ever really imagine a pair of spiraling tights on a woman like this? Or a special pair of laser flow hi pumps that compliment my stockings so easily, yet carry their own significant draw?
Are you as well, starting to feel, in any way, dizzy, drifty, dreamy, and sexy for me?
If you find yourself unable or unwilling to answer, don’t worry a bit.
Just look and see what I mean about the draw of each, and why it’s such a passionate thing to discuss.
All the reactions I’ve seen to them are always a little different, a little peculiar in their own way at first.
What do you think happened to the man before you who stared at my legs, my feet, my shoes?
Do you imagining his eyes locked on my body, rapt and magnetized?
Do you think that he could actually see them move once I suggested to him that the spirals on my legs and shoes might begin to move if he stared long enough?
Might you see them move if you stared long enough at my legs and feet? Or might the world around you shift in a haze as your gaze remains as static as those tights are to you? And don’t you love how you are permitted, allowed, privileged to stare at a beautiful woman’s legs, meant to capture, ensorcel, and mesmerize you like mine can? Nothing else in your vision, in your mind, in your world, but my stockings, my shoes, my legs, my feet, my femininity and will.
What if you stared long enough, and those spirals across my legs began to move of their own volition? Would you follow their motion? Would you really have a choice in following the motion? Sensual stripes of dark and nude colors, the best of both worlds for those who love sexy black stockings or nude, trancing ones that give my legs that extra shimmer to them. Which color might you follow first? A dark stripe? A nude stripe? Like following a lone band of a spiral surrounded by enchanting layers of them, over and over in a sexy sequence. Your eyes chase the lines up the curves of my body, up my calf, across my knee, deep into those powerful thighs of mine, somehow circling back down the path it started, back to my calf, across my ankle, over my gorgeous foot and to my shoe.
Don’t your eyes just love the color juxtaposition, where my shoes are more lighter, but the black thin, lasered stripes still have their draw. The lines curve over the glossy material of my spiraling heels, from the front all the way to the heel, tracing the length of the draw I have. You feel so close to my shoes, to the lines that are a path to where you mind falls, and where you feel more focused, more enamored, more submissive and pleasurable than you ever have in your life before now. I wonder, as the man before you found himself doing, do you feel a need to reverently kiss my feet? It is simply something that comes over someone who gets that close to me, the need to show a sign of reverence, and growing desire to worship, to express oneself, to give as much pleasure as one is feeling it stream through their bodies. It’s happened so often, and I find myself benevolent and understanding of such feelings, I can grant you the same if you feel obliged. You can start wherever you like.
Yes, just like that, right at the heel. Kissing across those lasered lines that imprint themselves onto your mind, up to where those lines converge and drop across the length of my shoe, following the curves with kisses to the front of my shoes, that lovely glossy feel, taking you deeper, but not nearly as deep as once your lips get to feel the silk of my tights, and feels helplessly drawn to continue reverently kissing the stripes of my stockings.
A trail of kisses proving to yourself how hypnotized you are, how much you enjoy what my legs have done to you, and how much more you want of them.
And maybe with each kiss, and each stripe, you feel a different word coming over you in sequence.
So lost in these passionate feelings toward my legs, guided by the presence of my will inside your mind, happy to have it there and be rewarded by telling you to kiss more and more, to feel that need build and build, to find yourself sinking deeper and deeper.
You kiss the length of the stockings until you reach the end, but suddenly realize there is no real end as your kisses descend back downwards, back to where you stared before, and then back again. No end to the pleasure, to feeling my control gently wash over you, to enjoy how simply toyed with you are becoming.
Are those spirals moving any more across your vision, or have they remained as static as you are, stuck-in-place, kneeling before me? Are you completely captured now? Your attention fully arrested? Your chances of escape next to nil now? Are you my prisoner now? But what prison could feel this good to you, this amazing? Have you ever really imagined locking up yourself in a prison of paradise? Trapped behind the bars that you worship with your lips that wrap around your mind, wrap around your body and trap you in ecstasy? Do my imprisoning spiral tights coil around you like a snake, leaving you helpless in my grasp? How else could you be even more captured than now?
What if I added even more incentive, maybe innocently dangling those hypnotic shoes off of my heels, bearing my natural spiraled heel. When have you ever been able to avoid watching someone dangling their heel off their petite toes so sultry? When has it ever been wrapped in a hypnotic spiral? What if that shoe feel, and toes wiggling before you pressed itself onto your face, covered your mouth for you to kiss? What if they simply happened to find themselves in your mouth for you to suck on gently, eagerly, bewitchingly? You could take the spirals deep into your mouth, and look at the expanse of spirals coming down my legs, towards you? Hypnotic spiraling waves coming over you, again, and again, and again, and again, and again.
If I were to see those glassy eyes, maybe I’d find spiral there, like in the cartoons. Eyes wide in surprise, then shrinking pupils, then colors bursting forth , perhaps a nude and black combination, spinning slowly at first, then filling your eyes, then spinning faster of their own volition. It’s as if the deeper you worship me, the faster they spin in your eyes and your mind, until they spin because you want them there, and would fight to keep them there.
But that is part of the beauty of it, my spiraling toy. There’s no need to fight. All you need to do, is give in, is surrender, is obey me, and reap the rewards that come with being mine.
Perhaps the culmination of spirals and my legs and feet isn’t so different from the culmination of you and me. Put together, a wonderful concoction takes place that is a sight to see, an almost symbiotic relationship where one needs the other, and both sustain pleasure from it.
In short, my toy, you are mine, and like the spirals on my shoes, my legs, my feet, and deep in your mind, you wouldn’t have it any other way.