{"sf1_id":1130156,"sf2_id":"Zeqj0dPm","title":"Research, Breath, Hypnotism, \u0026 Dress","author":"charles_they","words":325,"posted_at":"2017-01-24T02:06:47.000Z","tags":["Breath Play","M","Male","Mind Control","Poem","Poetry","Tanka","hypnotism","narrative"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1130156-research-breath-hypnotism-dress","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/Zeqj0dPm","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/68/19/6819d89d-52f7-4c78-baff-2adcee8bdd2c","description":"An unrhymed narrative on the violence of words, and three tankas detailing various kinks (breath play, hypnotism, femininity).","content":"### Preamble\n\nFor the next few postings, I'll be experimenting with format and other things. As due recompense for this service interruption, I'll be posting the third chapter of Death of the Actor shortly after this goes up.\n\n* * *\n\n### Research\n\nWords cast not in ink, but blood\n\nSoaking deeply through\u0026nbsp;\n\nLegislation, transcription\n\nFalse documents and treaties\n\nNative furs and settler masks\n\nSaid to be civil\n\nInsavage, unwild, even\n\nNamed as atribal\n\nThough behind them lie\n\nMajestic eagle feathers\n\nWhet on ideology\u0026nbsp;\n\nSharpened by strict adherence\n\nUntil they can, with one stroke\n\nDraw blood, spill blood like crude oil\n\nFlowing free through free markets\n\nBuilt atop most sacred grounds\n\nTongues robbed from muzzles\n\nNot of one generation\n\nBut of so many\n\nWho followed after\n\nUnable to find\n\nHome and History\n\nOral traditions put down\u0026nbsp;\n\nIn bloody ink, on paper,\n\nBound in words and books never\n\nTo reach those from whom they took\n\nWe're left beating hollow drums\n\nFilled with missing ancestors\n\nWhose bones and souls remain trapped\n\nIn clear Plexiglas cages\n\nOn display for the science\n\nThe Science, The Greater Good\n\nA good that was done at us\n\nAgainst us, and harvested\u0026nbsp;\n\nResearch and reus arché\n\nArrogant synonyms\u0026nbsp;\n\nProclaiming the principles\u0026nbsp;\n\nOf reality\n\nDissect me, settler\u0026nbsp;\n\nFor I am already dead\n\nA hollow man left beating\u0026nbsp;\n\nHollow drums in hollow homes\u0026nbsp;\n\nEmptied of my soul\n\nFur and bone without spirit.\n\n* * *\n\n### Breath\n\nPaw on neck tightens /\n\nDrawing breath grows arduous /\n\nThen your grip loosens /\n\nWe're one body: I inhale /\n\nYou hold, pound, and exhale me.\n\n* * *\n\n### Hypnotism\n\nTicking and tocking /\n\nPendulum slowly swinging /\n\nMind growing relaxed /\n\nInhibitions bleed from me /\n\nI am yours tonight, master.\n\n* * *\n\n### Dress\n\nDistinct scent of musk /\n\nFur tinted, muzzle painted /\n\nSkirt short, stockings long /\n\nFemininity inflames /\n\nMy swollen passion for you.\n\n* * *\n\n-Charles Michael Averin","series":{"name":"Old/Archive","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1127976-yearning-matrimoney.json"}}