“The Girl with Hypnotic Fingers”

A dance of skilled fingers inspiring trance

Part 1

“Bet this reminds you of something. Transformers, right? Yeah, me too. Just love how that design changes, shifts, remakes itself right before your eyes. And me, having always been good with my fingers, had to give it a try.”

“And now that I have you here as an objective observer, what do you think? Do I past muster? Are my fingers as skilled as I advertised they’d be? Do my ‘hypnotic’ fingers capture your attention and not let go as they show you a blueprint of something, something with so many moving parts to it, something powerful, something…immersive.”

“You’re so focused on what the design might be based on it’s fluidity, but the fluidity enjoys what it’s doing to you maybe, so it keeps going, and you keep staring, and it keeps going, and you….keep…starting..and…it..keeps…going…”
“What do you think it will change to when it’s done? Do you think it will be the only thing that changes? Might you change as you watch? Does this change fill you with something good since you’re so relaxed and fixed? Would it feel good to think how you could be a vehicle for suggestions? Or a beast tamed by the fluid design of fingers? Would watching them move at any given time, in any given way prime you to become as fluid as they are? Would you think me deceptive if I made you answer any question you had for me with your own reaction to my fingers moving?”

“So many questions, I wonder if you’re even aware of any of them, or do they just blur by my graceful fingertips? Oops, there I go again. Don’t worry; really, don’t worry about anything. Just watch my mesmerizing fingers, enjoy the changes it will inspire in you….”

Part 2

“Well, well. Back for more, are we? That fluidity, that need for fluidity just washed over you, carried you back on a wave of desire, throwing you right back within reach of my fingers that missed you as a captive audience. So here you are again, here are my fingers again. Fluid, changing, evolving, utterly controlled by me.”

“Even how I look at these dancing fingers has evolved. The Transformers thing was cute, and you fell for it wonderfully, but now I look at it a bit like sign language. Sign language, all those hand gestures, those weird meanings, seems really incomprehensible, yet sometimes you’d swear you could get the gist of it. My fingers are like sign language on steroids taking crack, unending, yet you perfectly understand every word, every meaning. It’s spelled out for you perfectly.”

“Stare. Follow. Listen. Obey.”

That’s all. It’s not ludicrous how it takes all I’m doing to produce four words, cause those four words carry so much meaning, don’t they?”

“Stare. Your eyes fixed, your attention rapt, your body still, your mind following.”

“Follow. You following a finger tip, you following a single finger, or two, or five, or the whole dance. You bend at my knuckles, you rotate at my wrists, you have your buttons pushed with my fingers in your face, each of them opening you to listening.”

“Listen. As easy as staring, as easy as following, because your ears never close, just like your eyes. Why would they when there’s so much to take in, to hear, like it’s always been there, always apart of you, like you can’t tell the difference between your words and my words because you just hear and obey.”

“Obey. The most natural thing in the world. Your prime objective. What you’ll always do for me. What you’ll never not do for me. The most beautiful thing you could ever do for you me, for yourself, especially when you can be rewarded with things like staring.“

“Stare…”

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