Disclaimer: these stories are a work of fiction.
Here’s a story you shouldn’t read.
Tap the back button now. Swipe left, go back, leave, read something else.
What? Still here?
Well look. I write a lot of stories. A few turn out to be pretty good, at least in the sense that some people like them a lot. Not everyone will like a story, of course, that would be impossible. But if someone likes a story, then at least it’s a good story for them.
And naturally many stories I write turn out to be mediocre, dull stories that no one likes all that much. That’s just part of the process. Write lots of stories, most will turn out to be not that great, and a few will turn out to be good stories. At least for people who like the kind of thing that the story is about.
And a few stories… well, just as a few stories I write turn out to be pretty good, a few will turn out to be awful. Terrible. Miserably bad stories. Stories that people really, really hate. A lot.
So what I’m saying is, you don’t need to read this story. I’ve written other stories, some of which are pretty good. And of course lots of other people have written great stories. You have a huge number of great stories to choose from. You don’t need to read this one.
…
Why are you still here?
I’m trying to tell you to stop reading.
OK, look, I didn’t really want to get into this, but consider the possibility… the chance… that maybe reading this story might cause you to tell me the truth.
Perhaps you laugh. Ridiculous! Absurd!
Yes, indeed, I agree. I’m not saying that it’s likely. I’m not saying that reading this story will cause you to tell me the truth. I’m just asking if there might be the smallest infinitesimal tiniest chance that maybe reading a story could cause you to tell me the truth.
Maybe some element of hypnosis, or magic, or something we haven’t thought of.
And why risk it? If this was a story you wanted to read, then sure, maybe you decide to take some tiny risk that’s almost vanishingly small. But why take any kind of risk at all for this story?
After all, you have no idea who I am. You don’t know if I’m kind, honest, considerate, compassionate. You don’t know if I’m someone you ought to tell the truth to.
So, really, I’m serious. Stop reading. Read a different story instead. Do it now.
Please listen.
I mean, if reading a story would cause you to tell me the truth… well, maybe reading this story could also cause you to tell me the whole truth.
And do you really want to be telling all your deepest secrets to a stranger?
So stop. Just stop. There’s no need for you to read this story.
If reading a story maybe could cause you to tell me the truth, and the whole truth, perhaps, just perhaps, maybe it could also cause you to tell me nothing but the truth.
And then you’d be unable to lie to me, even if it was to your advantage.
It’s not too late. Simply turn off your device. Shut it down. Don’t continue reading this story.
…I don’t think you’re really fully comprehending your jeopardy here.
Consider that if reading a story might cause you to tell me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, perhaps it could also cause you to believe whatever I say.
That’s just the other side of the coin, isn’t it? To tell me what you believe to be the truth, and to believe what I tell you as the truth.
Call for help. Tell a friend that you’re trapped in a story and need rescue.
Please, please listen to me. If a story could cause you to tell me the truth and believe what I tell you, wouldn’t it then be just a small step for a story to cause you to obey me?
And you have no idea who I am! You have no idea what orders I might give you! Whether you’d enjoy them, have fun, whether they’d be safe.
You’re in grave danger. OK, do this: close your eyes, put your device down, and without looking, cover it with something. Then, without uncovering it, take it to a friend and tell them not to give it back to you.
If reading a story might cause you to tell the truth, to believe, to obey… perhaps it could also give me complete control over your sexuality.
You could live a life unable to have any sexual pleasure except at my command, and to be unable to resist any sexual pleasure I cause you to have, any place, any time.
I’m telling you, in the strongest possible terms, stop. Stop. Stop! Stop reading.
Maybe reading this story could cause you to work hard for long hours and then give me all your money.
Is that the life you want?
You give me everything. All your possessions. All your belongings. Everything you own. Yourself.
You’re left with nothing. Nothing.
Just throw this story away. I mean literally, throw it away from you. As hard as you can. Right now.
For there’s more.
What if reading this story caused you to emotionally want to belong to me?
Where you desired above all else to be my slave?
Where every time you had a choice between two options in life, you’d gleefully choose whichever option that would place you more under my control?
OK, I’ve given you several suggestions for how to stop reading this story, and so far, unfortunately none of them have worked. But just because none of my ideas have worked, that doesn’t mean that you can’t come up with a way to stop reading this story. Think of something, fast. Do it now.
What if reading this story caused you to believe that your moral purpose in life is to surrender to me?
That what you should do is to give yourself to me?
That what makes you a good person is to give yourself to me completely. Utterly. Absolutely. Wholly. Unconditionally.
I fear it may already be too late.
But there’s still a chance.
A small chance maybe, but a glimmer of hope.
Please.
Do this, above all else:
Stop reading this story before you get to the end!
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Which is easy to do! Simply include the link: islehaven.me/dont-read-this-story