Content note: this post deals with consensual objectification and erotic hypnosis. It also mentions dissociation during sex.
For many people, sex is about being intensely immersed in the moment. Synapses fire, nerve endings sparkle, lungs undulate, hearts hammer. You’re hyper-aware of every feeling, every word. Your mind records the memory in technicolor and real-time.
But what about sex where you lose focus, drift away inside your brain, and zone out? That can be wonderful, too, in its own way.
Let me be clear: I am not talking about dissociation, the likes of which one might experience during a trauma or a mental health episode. That’s a big issue for many people during sex, for various reasons, and usually characterized as something unwanted. What I am talking about is a wanted thing, a consensual thing: sex while deliciously mindless.
This type of sex is mostly what I think of now when I look at pictures of sex dolls. I don’t have a penis, and I’m not usually attracted to feminine people (or their silicone facsimiles), so I don’t think about fucking these dolls so much as being one. Being a toy made for someone else’s pleasure, a receptacle for release, an outlet for the stresses and tensions of the day.
Girl on the Net, a fellow submissive and rough-sex aficionado, put it thusly: “Fuck me like you’re wanking.” I nodded along when I read her post, recognizing in her fantasy my own long-held desire to be used. This isn’t the type of sex I want all the time, or even most of the time – I usually prefer to be treasured, adored, doted upon – but sometimes I just need to turn off my brain and my own needs and wants and be someone’s fucktoy.
More pieces of this fantasy clicked into place when I started dating a hypnosis kinkster. There’s a lot of crossover between hypnokink and fantasies like “dollification” and “bimbofication”: reducing a usually competent, articulate person to a static, dim-witted version of themselves. At first, I didn’t understand this fantasy – who would want to feel unintelligent, especially in a situation where seeming attractive is important to most of us? – but, in deeper subsequent explorations of subspace, I’ve come to understand why someone might want to feel… not lesser-than, but… blank.
It’s nice to have a quiet, calm mind sometimes, especially for those of us with anxiety disorders that keep our thoughts racing at breakneck speeds toward nothing in particular – and especially in situations like sex, where thoughts of inadequacy and insecurity can quickly blossom.
I can imagine my partner taking me down into a deep trance and telling me, in his serene baritone, that I am a doll. A sex toy for his use and enjoyment. Maybe he’d describe my attributes to me, to paint a clearer picture in my mind; I’d want to be blonde and busty, like the Christa sex doll. He’d help me empty my brain out, leaving behind nothing but silicone skin and a blank stare. And then I’d be ready for him to fuck me, use me, take out his stresses on me.
You might be wondering what I would get out of fulfilling a fantasy I wouldn’t even be mentally present for. It would thrill me and please me, in retrospect, to feel the signs of having been consensually used without having a clear memory of what exactly was done to me. But the abyss of trance is its own pleasure, in a way. Imagine times you’ve zoned out while staring out a car window or waiting in line; perhaps you couldn’t fully remember, once you came back, where you’d been or what you’d been thinking about – because, quite likely, it was nothing at all. That blank state, when accessed with purpose and care, can feel like a warm blanket thrown over your brain: safe, cozy, and lovely in and of itself.
And since my partner has a massive hypnosis fetish, and gets off on seeing me in trance, the vacant look in my eyes would make me an even better sex toy for him.
Thanks so much to the folks at SexDolls.com for sponsoring this post!