Lurker > HotLap

You've never really believed in hypnosis. You've seen relaxation techniques and meditation work for people, but hypnosis always felt hokey and contrived, especially on-stage hypnotists. Imagine being on stage in front of hundreds of people and being put under a "hypnotic spell" by someone whose suit is clearly worth less than $100 and their financial support is 100% tied to whether or not you decide to cluck like a chicken on command. You could either play along, or ruin the show and take away this performer's food for the next week. That's why the hypnotist's commands are always something like "quack like a duck" and not "tape your dick to this car battery."

So when your date Claire suggested that you go to a hypnotist show on your first date, you were less than thrilled. She got the tickets for free from someone she works with.You lied and said it sounded like fun, but it was a date you didn't have to plan or pay for, so you couldn't really complain.

Everything was going well until you were randomly selected to come on stage by The Amazing Cynthia. "Dumb name," you thought to yourself as you were walking to the stairs. "Maybe she should hypnotize someone into choosing a more original title."

The Amazing Cynthia wasn't dressed like most magicians you've encountered. She wasn't wearing a three piece suit or an elegant dress, but a long sleeve white button down shirt tucked into some blue jeans. The top button of her shirt was undone with a loosened black tie hanging down the front of it. She looked like a blue collar hypnotist who had just returned home from a long day at the mindfuck factory.

She started you off with a couple softball questions before putting you under. "What is your name?"
"Griffin."
"Who are you here tonight with, Griffin?"
"I'm here with my date, Claire," you replied.
"First date?" Cynthia perked up.
You smiled nervously and said, "Yeah."
Cynthia turned to the crowd and announced, "Alright, in a moment Griffin will close his eyes, I will put him under, and when he wakes up he will no longer be able to tell the truth."
A series of semi-enthused murmurs flowed through the crowd. You remember closing your eyes and feeling Cynthia move around you whispering something you couldn't understand. She stopped in front of you and put her palm to your forehead for a few moments. You grimaced slightly, her hand was a lot sweatier than you thought it'd be.

You complied as she instructed you to open your eyes. You didn't feel any different. You still knew your name is Griffin, you knew you were here with Claire, and you knew you still hate hypnotists. Whatever she was trying to do clearly didn't work. "What is your name?" she asked again.
You sigh. As much as you wanted to blow up Cynthia's spot, it wouldn't sit right with you. You tried to think of a name that was similar to your own, something that would be a reasonable leap but wouldn't kill the illusion. However, before you could think of such a name, you blurted out, "People call me Kristen!"
The audience immediately bursted into laughter, but their bellows fell on deaf ears. "Whoa," you thought to yourself. "What the hell was that?"
Cynthia waited for the chuckles to die down before continuing, "And who are you here with Kristen?"
You froze up. You were so startled by the Kristen confession you weren't sure what to think about anymore. Again, some sort of manual override took over your body and answered, "I am here with my lovely mother."
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

When I was 13, I went to a summer camp where one of the camp counselors refused to drink milk solely because he thought the first person who milked a cow must have been a pervert.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

masturbated with mayonnaise
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

ShotOJameson posted...

HotLap posted...

TheVipaGTS posted...

Yea and when we get turned on blood literally leaves other parts of our body and goes into our dick...

You think guys with a thirteen inch hog get light-headed when they're fully torqued?

yes, speaking from experience

Stay safe brother.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

TheVipaGTS posted...

Yea and when we get turned on blood literally leaves other parts of our body and goes into our dick...

You think guys with a thirteen inch hog get light-headed when they're fully torqued?
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

I'm already someone's bitch, call 911 fam.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Isn't it weird how when it gets too cold our dicks try to hibernate but our nipples are just ready to fuckin party?
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

I got the ending where Jon Snow screams into the Night King's spread butt until he dies. Which one did you guys get?
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

I guess it depends on what your long term goals are. Do you think accepting the change would get you closer to where you want to go, or are you already where you want to be?
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Oh okay I'm sorry are we all just silently agreeing to pretend that this isn't the hottest thing we've ever seen? Fuck you nerds I want my haunted milk bath
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Doe posted...

Not anymore

This guy 17s.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Sorry, I was warned on Sunday for posting a picture of a nude man being licked by a horse. Update likely this weekend.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Neat pic. This is my favorite pic.


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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

butts
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Stab a fork into your thigh and loudly announce your strangest fetish.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

I live right outside Boston.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

A then E) Piss your pants to assert dominance
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Mystery_Mission posted...

hahahaha lmfao

lmfao hahahaha
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

I will try to update this tomorrow, if not it'll probably be Sunday again.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Bok_Choi posted...

Bok_Choi posted...

vegy can you please transition and make my fantasy true

Also mine.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

completeboy posted...

HotLap posted...

completeboy posted...

you live a lonely life, you naturally seek a partner by choice or need due to natural mental and physical tendencies, going on dates are fine as long as you are not being kissed and abused physically

Is having my ass screamed into physical abuse?

do i even need to address your posts? someone with a username like hotlap is easily assumable to be a lusty loser

My lap is hot from my cats sitting on them. I'm on your side here.

Now please tell me if letting my fiance heat my back lap with the breath from his murderous screeching is a sin or not.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

completeboy posted...

you live a lonely life, you naturally seek a partner by choice or need due to natural mental and physical tendencies, going on dates are fine as long as you are not being kissed and abused physically

Is having my ass screamed into physical abuse?
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Can I ask you a question, completeboy? I'm engaged to a wonderful guy who has all the qualities you've described. We agreed to wait until marriage to make love, but last week he asked me something strange.

He asked if he could scream into my spread butt. I asked what he wanted to say, and he said nothing, just a guttural scream. I asked him to demonstrate the scream first and it was so loud it shook the house. He was hoarse for three days.

What should I do, completeboy? I love him and he's been perfect up until this point. Should I let him unleash a visceral yell into my spread butt?
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

hockeybub89 posted...

More like "lol another firing. This Presidency is a fucking joke"

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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

You eat ass? Is there a race whose asses you won't eat?
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

It's pretty good! Not an everyday thing for me but I definitely enjoy it once in a while.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

In my fantasies, I'm staring right into vegy's spread butt and screaming so loud blood vessels in my face pop and dogs three houses away start barking.

Thanks for listening.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Oh shit I got a 10. You watch The Leftovers? That's where I heard that song.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

fire_bolt posted...

BCD

We gotta play League sometime.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Pee?
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

thronedfire2 posted...

HotLap posted...

MA, bout to get hit with 18 inches of snow boi.

Yeah the predictions went from like 8 inches in my area to 16-20 -_-

Eastern MA

Same dude. Yesterday they were saying like 8-10 which already sucked and then today they updated it to "say goodbye to your loved ones while you can". I haven't lost power during the last two storms and I'm worried this is gonna be the one.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Eevee-Trainer posted...

B + hit on any and all female relatives that are 18+

Even if it's her great great great grandma or something, old ladies need love too

Agreed. They ain't old, they RIPE.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

giantblimpN7 posted...

MegaTech posted...

This makes my head hurt lol

You the gooby then.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

NOM posted...

HotLap posted...

NOM posted...

HotLap posted...

You just gotta find the right liquor. I feel the same way as you with vodka, gin, and tequila. But shit, I can drink bourbon straight from the bottle.

I need to try bourbon. Only had vodka and rum so far.

What's a good cheap bourbon or scotch?

Spend some time with Old Granddad. You never visit Granddad and he misses you. He won't be around forever.

Jim Beam is also a good, cheap bourbon.

You...... I like you.

If you try it, let me know how you like it!
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Thrillwell posted...

HotLap posted...

MA, bout to get hit with 18 inches of snow boi.

RIP

Tell my story.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

9/10 would bathe.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

MA, bout to get hit with 18 inches of snow boi.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Tom Brady's hair.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

AB
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

NOM posted...

HotLap posted...

You just gotta find the right liquor. I feel the same way as you with vodka, gin, and tequila. But shit, I can drink bourbon straight from the bottle.

I need to try bourbon. Only had vodka and rum so far.

What's a good cheap bourbon or scotch?

Spend some time with Old Granddad. You never visit Granddad and he misses you. He won't be around forever.

Jim Beam is also a good, cheap bourbon.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

You just gotta find the right liquor. I feel the same way as you with vodka, gin, and tequila. But shit, I can drink bourbon straight from the bottle.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

I was a little worried after the pilot, but it's definitely getting better.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Lost_All_Senses posted...

This method sucks. I try doing the same thing with pills. It's just a way addicts trick themselves into justifying their actions at the moments and pushing shit off to a day where we will push it off again

As somebody who has frequently tried drinking all the alcohol so I can have no alcohol in my house, agreed. I always buy more booze.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Derek opens a closet door, retrieves a black leather belt and tosses it to you. You catch it instinctively before realizing what it's for. "No," you mutter under your breath.
"Tie that around your arm," Derek commands, still rifling through the closet.
"No!" you reiterate.
"Your left arm," Derek clarifies.
"Oh!" you say slightly relieved, but mostly confused. "If you're not using the belt to amputate my Pringles arm, what are you using it for?"
Derek points to the coffee table where you see a couple small baggies. "We need to tie the belt to your left arm so we can use the heroin on the table as a pain suppressant and reliever-"
A small "Wha-?" falls out of your mouth as Derek describes his plan.
Derek finally emerges from the closet holding a much larger, studded belt. "So when we cut off your right arm using this belt, the pain won't be so bad."
You faintly smell gas and dart your vision towards the stove. There's a large butcher knife sitting on a burner over an open flame. "I don't want to do this!"
"You don't know what you want!" Derek blurts out. "I'm trying to help you! And I'm not going to let my best friend go on living with this parasite on his arm!"
"Best friend?!" you shout back.
"We've seen each other naked, man," Derek explains.
"No we haven't!"
"Ah, but I saw you in here," Derek points to his temple.

What do you do?

A) Let Derek cut off your right arm.
B) Suggest Derek only cut off the tip of the can, freeing your fingertips.
C) Fight for your freedom.
D) Grab the heroin on the table and sprint out of the apartment.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Derek remains focused despite the falling food and puts the refrigerator back in its upright position. He takes a look around at the new mess and states, "I'm not cleaning this one up."
"That's fine," you say as you yank your foot out of the splintered cabinet and stand up. "You don't happen to have experience in woodworking or drywall repair, do you?"
Derek shakes his head. "I'm afraid I'm only proficient in lifting fridges."
"Damn," you mutter as you unravel the duct tape from around the Pringles can before holding it up. "Can you do anything about this?"
Derek grabs the can without warning and tugs as hard as he can. You are jolted off your feet and land directly in the food mush on the kitchen floor. The cylinder is still attached. "Nope, I guess not," Derek says.
"Thanks," you groan from the floor.
"Well... I've actually got an idea. There's one other thing we could try back at my apartment," Derek offers.
You rise out of the muck a second time and reply, "Sure. Let me change out of these clothes first so I don't track old food all over your apartment."
"Bah, you don't have to change," Derek shrugs.
"What? You sure you don't mind?" you ask confused. "I mean, you didn't want to clean up the food in here, I can't imagine you'd want to mop it up at your place either."
"Oh you definitely have to take off those dirty clothes, but you don't have to like, ch-change. Y'know?" Derek stammers.
"What? No, I don't know."
"Well... I was naked in your apartment, so you can be naked in my apartment. Then we'll be even," Derek explains.
"I... I don't want to be even. Why would I ever want to be even?" you demand incredulously.
"If you loaned me fifty dollars, you'd want the fifty dollars back eventually, right?" Derek asks.
You shake your head vigorously. "That's not the same thing. Why don't you get this Pringles can off my arm instead? Then we'll be even," you suggest.
Now Derek is shaking his head while chuckling to himself. "Now that's not the same thing. You're not even comparing apples and oranges here. It's like you're comparing apples and... the unashamed, vivacious human form."
"Well am I going to get to break down your front door?" you press him.
"Noooo..." Derek trails off.
"Then I guess we're not ever going to be fucking even then!"

Derek agrees to let you change and returns to his apartment. You strip off your shirt and pants, making sure to close the bedroom door first since people can now see directly into your apartment. Putting on a new shirt was easy enough, but pulling up a pair of jeans one handed proves to be more difficult. You decide to not even try to loop your belt through your pants with your mechanical arm. Besides, your pants are fitting a little tighter since you got laid off anyway. You come back into the kitchen and look down at the cold culinary nightmare you've concocted on the tile. Bah, you'll clean that up when you've got two hands again.

You stroll down the hallway and clunk on Derek's door with the harbinger of destruction that you pray is not permanently affixed to you. Derek swings open the door, thankfully wearing a bathrobe. He gives you a nod and declares, "Alright. Let's do this." He retreats into his apartment. You follow suit and close the door behind you.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.