DEAR DIARY — Part 7
November 2
School has been taking up almost all of my time lately. I knew this part of the semester was going to be bad, but knowing it and living it are not the same thing. Every day feels like a stack of pages, notes, deadlines, and half-finished thoughts. My two thesis are always there, waiting for me, even when I am not looking at it. Sometimes I feel like I can hear it breathing over my shoulder.
But even with all of that, I still make time for Adam every night.
That sounds dramatic, but it is true. When Adam hypnotizes me, everything gets quiet. His voice wraps around me, and all the stress from school starts to fade. It feels safe and warm. Like being tucked inside a blanket where nothing can reach me. If we miss a night, I feel restless and unfinished until he holds me again.
That is the part I keep coming back to. I know Adam is changing me. I know he is. I cannot always feel it happening, but I can see it afterward. I used to hate certain things, and now I love pleasing him, like giving him blowjobs. I used to be annoyed when he commented on my clothes or hair, and now I care what he thinks.
Maybe that should worry me, but it does not. I know Adam cares about me. I know he wants me to be better, prettier, happier, easier with myself. I know he sees something in me that I cannot always see. And if he is changing me, then maybe it is because I need changing.
Tonight, though, he did something weird.
He came over for dinner and brought everything for tacos. Adam is good in the kitchen, which is lucky because I am not. One of his specialties is homemade guacamole, and he asked me to help while he prepared it.
At one point, he asked me to hand him something. Except I had no idea what he meant. I knew he was asking for one of the ingredients. I knew exactly what he meant physically. I could picture it, recognize it, even understand that it was the main thing in guacamole.
But the word meant nothing, It was like he had said a blank space.
I asked him to repeat himself, thinking I just hadn’t heard him, but the sound went into my head and slipped away before it could become anything. Adam looked at me with that little knowing smile of his, which only made me more confused.
Finally, He asked a third time for the “guacamole things,” and I felt like a complete idiot as I reached into the bag and handed them to him without being able to name them. He just sent me back to my room to study like I was some child who couldn’t be trusted with a conversation. I asked him to repeat it, but that did not help.
I knew what they were but I just did not know the word.
At first, I pushed it out of my mind and went back to my schoolwork. But after Adam left, I kept thinking about it. I tried to say the name of the food out loud, but nothing came. I looked up a guacamole recipe online, and when I saw the word, I recognized it instantly. Of course. That was it.
Then I looked away and it was gone again.
That was when I realized what Adam had done. He took a word from me. I do not know how, but I know he did it during one of our sessions. And honestly, I am pissed off. It is one thing to help me relax, or make me feel prettier, or guide me into being less tense and stuck in my own head. It is another thing to play around with my vocabulary.
I should have called him and told him to fix it immediately. I’m supposed to be writing two theses, and here he is playing games with my brain. What’s even more frustrating—and I hate myself for writing this—is that realizing what he did made me feel weirdly, intensely horny.
The idea that Adam could reach into my mind and remove something so ordinary made me feel embarrassed and furious and excited all at once.
I texted him to see if he wanted to come back to have sex, but he was already getting ready for bed. Probably for the best, since I need sleep too.
Still, I had to take care of the feeling myself before I could relax.
Now I am lying here, angry and frustrated, having to use my vibrator just to calm down. I keep trying to the word, and every time I cannot, I get angry all over again.
And then I get excited again.
And somehow, instead of wanting it back, all I can think is that I want to know what else he can do.
November 4
I do not have much time to write tonight, but I think Adam has changed something else in me.
I was late to class this morning, and at first I could not figure out why. Then Brittany complimented my hair, and I realized.
I had spent almost half an hour getting ready !
Usually, I wake up, throw on whatever clothes are clean, maybe grab breakfast if I am lucky, and rush out the door with my hair in a ponytail. But all week, I have been taking more time in the morning. This morning I showered before class, styled my hair properly, picked an outfit that actually looked good, and even put on lip gloss without really thinking about it.
It is weird, because I know this is probably Adam’s doing. But the really weird part is that I don’t mind.
I felt better all day. And when Brittany said my hair looked nice, I pretended not to care, but I did. Not because I care what she thinks. I really don’t, especially from an airhead cheerleader like her. It just felt good to know the extra effort showed.
I used to think getting ready was a waste of time unless there was a reason. Now looking good feels like the reason.
I should probably be annoyed at him and I am still not thrilled about the word thing. He must be planting these seeds while I’m under, nudging me to care more about how I look and less about the clock. But even if he stopped making the suggestions tomorrow, I think I’d keep doing it. I like the way people look at me when I’ve actually put effort in.
Hypnosis Experiment Log
Subject: Jessica Sandler
Date: November 8
Every week, I find myself increasingly amazed by the depth of Jessica’s receptivity. Her psyche is proving to be a remarkably fertile ground for the seeds I’m planting. She has adapted with startling speed to the behavioral shifts I’ve introduced, particularly regarding her physical presentation. She is now consistently devoting significantly more time to her appearance, manifesting a meticulousness that was entirely absent just a month ago.
However, this shift has not been without its logistical friction. She was late to her first classes every day last week. While I could easily install a post-hypnotic temporal awareness to fix this, I am curious to see if she can recalibrate her own schedule. She should, theoretically, be able to deduce that her new beauty regimen requires an earlier start to her day. I will intervene if her academic standing is genuinely threatened, but for now, I prefer to observe her self-correction.
Time will be at a this week. We are both facing a crush of deadlines before we leave for the week-end together. I need to clear my own schedule in advance, and Jessica has a mountain of assignments due this Friday. The objective is to depart for the coast as early as possible on Friday afternoon. I suspect that regardless of our timing, we’ll be mired in holiday traffic; the two-hour drive to the beach could easily double. Regardless, the isolation will be invaluable for the next phase of the experiment.
The “avocado” trial on Tuesday was a resounding success and, frankly, quite entertaining to witness. I prepared tacos specifically to test the linguistic block I installed. The suggestion held perfectly. She was visibly flustered, her brain clearly hitting a “dead end” where the word used to reside. Her only functional workaround now is the phrase “guacamole stuff.” It is a small but significant proof of concept. I am currently brainstorming other non-essential nouns to prune from her vocabulary, systematically simplifying her speech patterns. I have to be surgical about it—she still needs to maintain a high level of academic discourse to finish her theses—but it makes me anticipate the summer even more. Once she graduates, the linguistic “thinning” can become much more aggressive.
With the current time constraints, I am keeping this week’s plan simple and focused. In addition to reinforcing her existing grooming compulsions and the linguistic blocks, I am introducing a specific command regarding her lips. She has a naturally full, pouty mouth, and I want her to draw constant, visual attention to it. I’ve suggested she wear lipstick daily, steering her specifically away from subtle nudes and toward bright, glossy pinks. Pink is the quintessential “bimbo” palette; it’s playful, loud, and slightly vapid.
Combined with her new blonde hair—which I am still adjusting to—the pink lips make her look less like a double-major grad student and more like a high-end doll. I must it, I am still adjusting to the sight of her as a blonde. Every time she catches the light, I see a glimpse of the vacuous, stunning creature she is becoming. It is a powerful transformation, and we are only just beginning.
November 11th
I absolutely hate how busy both Adam and I have been lately. I know it’s only temporary—just the pre-break crunch—but it’s so frustrating that we can’t spend real, quality time together this week. Of course, that hasn’t stopped him from coming over to my apartment every single night to put me under.
I know he doesn’t keep me in a trance for very long, but I honestly don’t know what I would do without our little sessions. It’s becoming more than just a way to manage my headaches; I almost feel addicted to them. I feel a sense of genuine anxiety if I think about missing even a single day at this point. It’s the only time my brain truly feels quiet.
I know we can’t keep this exact routine up forever. Adam is going to have to make a few trips out to California soon to prepare for his internship next year. Having his uncle there to help will be a huge advantage, but moving across the country is such a complicated, daunting task. Thankfully, Adam is more than up to it. I’m so lucky to have a man who is so capable and driven; I just want to follow wherever he leads.
Tonight, after Adam brought me out of my trance, he told me he wanted to make this weekend a big surprise for me. All I know for sure is that we’re heading to the beach. Other than that, I’m completely clueless. As part of the surprise, he made a rather unusual request: he wants to pack for me.
My first reaction wasn’t a good one—I’m usually so meticulous about my things—but after a moment of consideration, I found myself agreeing. Honestly, it would be such a relief not to have to worry about the logistics of the trip while I have three major assignments due this Friday. It might also mean we can get out of town a little earlier since I won’t be fussing over my suitcase. I’ll just pack up my own toiletries for him to put in the bag, since I’m sure he doesn’t have a clue about all the products I need for my hair and skin now.
Before I go, I should probably mention that I stopped at the department store during my lunch break today and bought some new lipstick. I’m not exactly sure what prompted it, but I suddenly felt like I didn’t have the “right” color. I forget the exact name of the shade, but it is a much brighter, glossier pink than anything else I own. I’ve been wearing it ever since I bought it, and every time I catch my reflection in a window, I can’t help but ire how it looks with my blonde hair. It makes me feel different. Bubblier, maybe.
Back to the books for now. Friday can’t come soon enough.