How the Memories Flow..

Well. I'm not even sure where to start; and coming from me when usually the words flow so comfortably, that's a statement to take into consideration. I don't think you'll find much below in the way of well-crafted, shapely prose meant to stimulate your imagination or fondle your senses, but hopefully at the very least I can convey in some small measure my first few experiences being under at Sharky's talented hand.

The First Touch of the Deep:

There was at first a comfortable sense of ease as Sharky's words began to roll up the screen, like raindrops on a windshield durning a high wind. Fascinating and curious to watch, intriguing so that I was compelled to focus only on those words and what they meant for me. As a single mother, I don't find much in the way of relaxation. Even my sleep is fitful, filled with worries and concerns and troubles; any number of things that, perhaps, mean so little to others but so much to me. But as those words, those tender words which sought to bring me comfort and in their own way a kind of mental release, scrolled across my screen I could feel a true and solid sense of relaxation and peace settle through my flesh. I wanted only to see the words, to feel them; deep within I wished that they would scroll on forever so that I might never have to leave this blissful serenity which seeped not just through muscles and bone but mind as well. Washing away worries and doubts, and simply allowing me to "be," in a very Hindu-esque kind of way.

Though I sit here and focus so hard on the deeper memories there's so very little that I remember, at least in the tangible sense that most "memories" are thought of in. There are no images, vivid or otherwise, there are no sounds or songs that stimulate my inner-file cabinet and allow me to recall with more clarity. Only the gentle, persuasive understanding that I wanted this to happen more than anything and that I was so well rewareded by being a Good Girl. A very good girl! Oh, and I wanted that so badly, worse than I wanted just to forget the world for awhile, worse than I wanted to only hear Sharky's voice. That phrase filled me so completely with pride and joy, with glee, with anticipation, with desire to please so that I might hear it again. It tickled my insides like frenzied butterflies and wrapped my mind in a comfortable warmth that ached to be preserved.

What I remember most distinctly was the presence of my very best friend Kitten in the room with me the entire time. Distantly, I recall her cell phone ringing once or twice during the trance, and pointing at her to tell her that, "The monkeys are trying to steal my purse!" She was a comforting inspiration, and unwitting lifeline of support; having been put under by Sharky herself more than once I was soothed in knowing that to all appearances she was still just the Kitten I knew and loved.

When the count from five to one was over, when I was back to myself, before being allowed to remember, I felt wonderfully languid and at ease. My mind was soothed and my heart was full of the praise and pride that being such a very good girl gave to me. When I was allowed to remember, when Kitten spoke my trigger phrase, my immediate feelings were ones of disappointment. Not in the process, or the hypnotist, or myself, just that the feelings of serenity and peacefulness, the true penetrating relaxation which I experienced, was so short! Selfish me, I wanted it to last so much longer..

I'm so grateful to Kitten for being my dearest friend and Sharky for swiftly becoming one, and for his willingness, patience, and cleverness when playing in and out of trance with me.

So much has happened since that first trance, I can't wait to tell you more!