HOME | DD

Description

The only light came from a lamp shining down on her. The rest of her room was blacked out by her green screen curtain, and her three monitors barely produced enough illumination by themselves to even reflect on the collar-like necklace she wore. June was sure she would appear perfectly well lit on the call, but to her the room was dark. Dark, lonely, and a bit stuffy if she was honest.

The hubby had been on a trip to a Con all week that she hadn't even been invited to guest on a panel for, so she was not in the best of moods. Did everyone in the skeptic community not like her? Nah, she was a girl, and they were mostly nerdy guys. Maybe she was just too much of an actual leftist for the mostly right-winger crowd.

Yeah, that was it. She wasn't worthless, people just didn't get how things actually worked in the world. But some people did - her viewers.

Which is why she was going to relax tonight, in this lonely little cave, with the first ever test of her life call with top tier Patrons!

Suppressing a little giggle, June clicked the 'call' button on her randomly selected first guest. The familiar beeps and boops of Skype echoed off the walls of her soundproofed room. She did a silly little hum along to them. An image popped into the middle of her screen. A woman in a resplendent white dress, her body curved into a pose which perfectly emphasised her ample butt and chest. Her hair fell neatly behind her head in black braids, and the dark brown skin of her completely exposed arms and chest contrasted with the golden trim of her dress.

June could not help but notice that the left side of the dress was just slightly loose, leaving a peek of a bit of lighter, rougher skin at the edge between white dress and black chest. She really was lonely. June slapped her face lightly, giggling at herself again. The caller - Ore, according to her Skype name, was super attractive. But June was just being silly. She needed to be serious, she owed it to her viewer.

The screen bursted into light as Ore's side of the call appeared on the screen in a flash. Her hair was threaded in dreads now, and June couldn't see her dress as the camera was angled to only show the caller's face. A full pair of brown eyes stared at her from the other side of the screen. Behind them was a golden background. It seemed almost ethereal, like it was sparkling. Her wallpaper was full of concentric circles that blurred at the call's connection established herself.

"Hey, erm... Sorry, I don't wanna offend you, how do I pronounce your name?" June started with a sunny smile. It wasn't fake, her day was literally being lit up by the golden image on her screen. She was craving any sort of connection, that much was obvious to her. But to Ore, she probably just seemed a cheerful content-creator.

"Oh, it's just like 'o'-'ray'." June nodded with a big grin, inviting her first ever guest to continue. "And I love your videos! It's great to see someone on the left with real Liberal values... But I'm not so much of a fan of some of your recent videos..." Ore frowned, seeing her beautiful face crease in discomfort gave June discomfort too.

"Oh?" She asked, her voice maybe a little more sad than she wanted it to sound.

"That stuff about the 'reductionism of identity politics'. It's just... a bit misinformed, yanno? Not a fan, doesn't fit with your usual rationalism."

June felt her face move towards and angry frown. But she kept it under control. She was rational, she wouldn't let herself be consumed by emotion. So her voice came out in only a half-shriek. "Oh so you're one of those idpol so-called 'feminists'? The ones who think all women are the same and we need to treat them all the same!? You know that's actually sexist, right? How would you like it if I treated you like you were the same as all black people?"

To her credit, Ore had kept her even stare looking into the webcam, and her expression remained a small, pursed smile. Her image blurred a few times, but she was still beautiful. Once June's little outburst was done, she made a small sigh.

"That's really not the point I'm trying to make. I don't think all women are the same, or all black women are the same. I think they share experiences, just like all working class people do. Could you please, for once, listen to an actual explanation of what identity politics is?"

Again June saw Ore's face blur and distort as she spoke, but that brown gaze remained. The glistening golden rings remained defined even as a blur. The light of the screen against the dark background combined with the connection issues to make her eyes water. June rubbed her eyes and refocused on the beautiful caller. She nodded a couple of times, enthusiastically. She wanted to hear what Ore had to say.

"Okay, so you've heard the phrase 'all politics is identity politics', right?"

June really wanted to just look at Ore's smouldering, judgemental gaze for a bit longer. But the fire in her throat at such condescension was already rising.

"Yeah, duh. But it's just an ad absurdum. Of course 'working class' is an identity as well, for example, but it's the important one." June nearly spat out. Maybe she would have done it it wasn't for the weirdly calming sight of her caller's pursed lips. "Like sure, maybe minorities are more likely to be working class, but it's the being working class which is disadvantaging them. That's the part we need to solve, not this 'liberal' bullshit about 'microaggressions'."

Ore sighed, it was quiet and repressed, but it still filled June with an acute sense of shame. Even though she was right, of course.

"But you accept that all politics is about identifying the needs of specific groups and fighting for them. As in, it is identity politics?"

"Sure, if you wanna gerrymander like that, I am an idpol loser. But I focus on the real, relevant 'identity'."

"Wait, so you're assuming the working class is completely homogenous? Weren't you just saying I thought all women were the same?"

Ore's judging glare burned into June's eyes, she stammered as blood rushed to her cheeks. "No, not you. Just, like, your p-people..." Ore raised a sexy eyebrow as June felt her face burn brighter. "Y-your idpol people! Not... not the other thing!"

"My point is that class reductionism misses things. There are other oppressions. Black kids are murdered by cops. Women are sexually assaulted and commoditised. Gay and trans people aren't allowed to be themselves. That's what identity politics is about, it's about recognising that every identity has its own things which hurt it. And it's about bringing those into the fight." Ore's eyes lit up with passion, and even as her image flashed and blurred into a dark mush for a few moments, June could see her fierce, powerful eyes clearly.

Doesn't mean she needed to agree though. "But even those oppressions come down to money in the end, right? A rich black man doesn't need to worry about cops. An upper class woman can sue the creeps so they get what they deserve. If a trans person is privileged enough they become a star, not a victim."

"But they still needed to overcome that oppression, it was still affecting them."

"Forgive me if I don't shed a tear for Caitlin Jenner, Ore. Come on, these people aren't who we're fighting for. A trailer trash in Nebraska is a billion times more oppressed than Oprah."

"And I agree with you, broadly at least." A fuzzy feeling welled in June's chest, unignorable. "But you're getting dangerously close to a hierarchy of oppression. Like, what's a worse experience, a white guy who can barely make rent, or a black woman who has a steady job but will never get promoted since her natural hair is unprofessional, and is treated as a traitor by half her old friends?"

June's lips opened to state that it was obviously the former, but Ore's raised eyebrow made her mouth dry up completely.

"The point is they're not comparable. They're different things. Different struggles. But both valid."

Yeah, sure, that made sense too.

But even through the golden haze of agreeing with the beauty on her screen, June still had issues. "But that's the thing, Ore... Those are super specific situations. Everyone's unique, what do you gain by pretending there's a big racial struggle when it's really just a bunch of individual assholes?"

"June, how many times has a man interrupted you this week?"

June would usually dismiss this as a ridiculous non sequitur. But Ore had been making good points that she couldn't think of counterarguments to, so she answered truthfully. "Ermm..." Her brain was not moving at full capacity though. "I can't count. Maybe seven?"

"The point is that this happens to every woman. Because it's a cultural phenomenon. One we should change. Socially, if not politically, because idpol is a movement, not just a party."

"Sure, sure..." June said, nodding along with what she didn't realise was a very silly-looking grin. "But, not all women are the same. I mean, as I said before, a working class woman can't challenge her boss on it for fear of being fired. But a rich woman can put her people down because she's in control." Hmm... a powerful woman in control... June lost her train of thought in Ore's level brown gaze.

"Congratulations, June" Her head perked up a little involuntarily at Ore's praise. "You've discovered intersectionality."

Even though Ore was completely deadpan, June was completely absorbed. Leaning forward with her chin in her hand and eyes wide she spoke in awe into her webcam. "Wait, really? I thought it was all just about transfem-otherkin-hispanic-lesbians?" Her respect for Ore prevented her from adding the 'attack helicopter' part.

"Obviously class is included too! It's an important identity!"

"What's the point, then? Sure, everyone faces different oppressions, I can accept that, but how do you fight for each one at once? Surely we should start with the important ones first?" June was hopeful that Ore could accept her point, even though it came from a place of poor understanding and ignorance.

"Well, you might think you know which ones are important, but that's an open question. But identity politics is a lens, it lets us see what's out there and how it affects different people. And it lets us see what's shared, and organise around it. Look, I'm sure you think the whole MeToo thing was 'virtue signalling' or something. But it organised people. We put fucking Weinstein in jail. Thanks to 'idpol'. That's worth something, right?"

Yep. Right. "But... Even without idpol... We would take down Weinstein..." June was finding it hard to articulate her thoughts. They were probably wrong. Ore was so beautiful and smart and so obviously correct.

"Maybe. But maybe the movement would leave alone an abuser who was a white working class kid? After all, he's not oppressing the poor, right?" June knew that the silly thought that had immediately responded 'yes, right!' was actually wrong. "Except that he was. Being working class doesn't make you not sexist, or racist. And that divides the working class, divides our movement. We're not the ones doing it."

We. That sounded nice. She was part of Ore's movement. A tool to be used by this powerful, stunning woman whose eyes pulsed at her from beyond the screen. June would gladly be her weapon to fight against the oppression of all identities.

"So... do I need to vote for Elizabeth Warren now? Or Kamala?"

Ore's face turned again into the quizzical frown which made June feel like a worthless fool.

"No? Of course not, haven't you been listening. Kamala is a literal cop. And don't get me started on Warren's low-key white nationalism. She took opportunities away from real indigenous women with her bullshit. No! Of course not! You vote for Bernie!"

"B-but... he's an old white man... that means he's the worst..." June felt like crying. Nothing made sense. Part of her brain wanted to agree that obviously Bernie was the right fighter for the working class, but another, more compliant part was sure he was not the right identity.

"Look, any woman of colour with Bernie's politics would be better since she would have a more instinctive understanding of that sort of intersectional oppression. If AOC could run, she would obviously be the pick. But she isn't, and Bernie has made it clear that he does, for the most part, get it."

Ore's soothing words brought calm to June's mind. She could be a warrior of identity politics while still upholding her belief that the working class needed liberation.

"We'll keep him on the right track, and he has some good women in his corner to do it too. But he's the best chance we have of making a good start to the change we need. Got it, sweetie?"

June nodded vigorously. She was so happy to finally get it. To finally be on the right side of history. And to be on what was obviously the right side of a power dynamic with Ore.

Of course, others needed to realise that, too.

"Ore... Could I get you on a call with my hubbie too, I think he needs to hear this... I'll thank you lots" She said, honestly, twirling a strand of hair.

Ore's image blurred for a final time, the golden rings swirling for a moment before her beautiful teacher returned to focus. The superior smirk on her face suited her perfectly. "Of course, sweetie. I'll need your help, though."

-----

Well this took longer than I thought! Imagine having to actually research my hypnofetish fiction to make sure I get the arguments broadly right.

This is a very late request for the late, great XennerdReborn . I hope you see this and enjoy it, friend!

And to everyone else, I hope you enjoyed June's gradual descent too. But I especially hope you learned something. And for all you yanks, you'd better feel the Bern, because you're our last hope now!

Description

The only light came from a lamp shining down on her. The rest of her room was blacked out by her green screen curtain, and her three monitors barely produced enough illumination by themselves to even reflect on the collar-like necklace she wore. June was sure she would appear perfectly well lit on the call, but to her the room was dark. Dark, lonely, and a bit stuffy if she was honest.

The hubby had been on a trip to a Con all week that she hadn't even been invited to guest on a panel for, so she was not in the best of moods. Did everyone in the skeptic community not like her? Nah, she was a girl, and they were mostly nerdy guys. Maybe she was just too much of an actual leftist for the mostly right-winger crowd.

Yeah, that was it. She wasn't worthless, people just didn't get how things actually worked in the world. But some people did - her viewers.

Which is why she was going to relax tonight, in this lonely little cave, with the first ever test of her life call with top tier Patrons!

Suppressing a little giggle, June clicked the 'call' button on her randomly selected first guest. The familiar beeps and boops of Skype echoed off the walls of her soundproofed room. She did a silly little hum along to them. An image popped into the middle of her screen. A woman in a resplendent white dress, her body curved into a pose which perfectly emphasised her ample butt and chest. Her hair fell neatly behind her head in black braids, and the dark brown skin of her completely exposed arms and chest contrasted with the golden trim of her dress.

June could not help but notice that the left side of the dress was just slightly loose, leaving a peek of a bit of lighter, rougher skin at the edge between white dress and black chest. She really was lonely. June slapped her face lightly, giggling at herself again. The caller - Ore, according to her Skype name, was super attractive. But June was just being silly. She needed to be serious, she owed it to her viewer.

The screen bursted into light as Ore's side of the call appeared on the screen in a flash. Her hair was threaded in dreads now, and June couldn't see her dress as the camera was angled to only show the caller's face. A full pair of brown eyes stared at her from the other side of the screen. Behind them was a golden background. It seemed almost ethereal, like it was sparkling. Her wallpaper was full of concentric circles that blurred at the call's connection established herself.

"Hey, erm... Sorry, I don't wanna offend you, how do I pronounce your name?" June started with a sunny smile. It wasn't fake, her day was literally being lit up by the golden image on her screen. She was craving any sort of connection, that much was obvious to her. But to Ore, she probably just seemed a cheerful content-creator.

"Oh, it's just like 'o'-'ray'." June nodded with a big grin, inviting her first ever guest to continue. "And I love your videos! It's great to see someone on the left with real Liberal values... But I'm not so much of a fan of some of your recent videos..." Ore frowned, seeing her beautiful face crease in discomfort gave June discomfort too.

"Oh?" She asked, her voice maybe a little more sad than she wanted it to sound.

"That stuff about the 'reductionism of identity politics'. It's just... a bit misinformed, yanno? Not a fan, doesn't fit with your usual rationalism."

June felt her face move towards and angry frown. But she kept it under control. She was rational, she wouldn't let herself be consumed by emotion. So her voice came out in only a half-shriek. "Oh so you're one of those idpol so-called 'feminists'? The ones who think all women are the same and we need to treat them all the same!? You know that's actually sexist, right? How would you like it if I treated you like you were the same as all black people?"

To her credit, Ore had kept her even stare looking into the webcam, and her expression remained a small, pursed smile. Her image blurred a few times, but she was still beautiful. Once June's little outburst was done, she made a small sigh.

"That's really not the point I'm trying to make. I don't think all women are the same, or all black women are the same. I think they share experiences, just like all working class people do. Could you please, for once, listen to an actual explanation of what identity politics is?"

Again June saw Ore's face blur and distort as she spoke, but that brown gaze remained. The glistening golden rings remained defined even as a blur. The light of the screen against the dark background combined with the connection issues to make her eyes water. June rubbed her eyes and refocused on the beautiful caller. She nodded a couple of times, enthusiastically. She wanted to hear what Ore had to say.

"Okay, so you've heard the phrase 'all politics is identity politics', right?"

June really wanted to just look at Ore's smouldering, judgemental gaze for a bit longer. But the fire in her throat at such condescension was already rising.

"Yeah, duh. But it's just an ad absurdum. Of course 'working class' is an identity as well, for example, but it's the important one." June nearly spat out. Maybe she would have done it it wasn't for the weirdly calming sight of her caller's pursed lips. "Like sure, maybe minorities are more likely to be working class, but it's the being working class which is disadvantaging them. That's the part we need to solve, not this 'liberal' bullshit about 'microaggressions'."

Ore sighed, it was quiet and repressed, but it still filled June with an acute sense of shame. Even though she was right, of course.

"But you accept that all politics is about identifying the needs of specific groups and fighting for them. As in, it is identity politics?"

"Sure, if you wanna gerrymander like that, I am an idpol loser. But I focus on the real, relevant 'identity'."

"Wait, so you're assuming the working class is completely homogenous? Weren't you just saying I thought all women were the same?"

Ore's judging glare burned into June's eyes, she stammered as blood rushed to her cheeks. "No, not you. Just, like, your p-people..." Ore raised a sexy eyebrow as June felt her face burn brighter. "Y-your idpol people! Not... not the other thing!"

"My point is that class reductionism misses things. There are other oppressions. Black kids are murdered by cops. Women are sexually assaulted and commoditised. Gay and trans people aren't allowed to be themselves. That's what identity politics is about, it's about recognising that every identity has its own things which hurt it. And it's about bringing those into the fight." Ore's eyes lit up with passion, and even as her image flashed and blurred into a dark mush for a few moments, June could see her fierce, powerful eyes clearly.

Doesn't mean she needed to agree though. "But even those oppressions come down to money in the end, right? A rich black man doesn't need to worry about cops. An upper class woman can sue the creeps so they get what they deserve. If a trans person is privileged enough they become a star, not a victim."

"But they still needed to overcome that oppression, it was still affecting them."

"Forgive me if I don't shed a tear for Caitlin Jenner, Ore. Come on, these people aren't who we're fighting for. A trailer trash in Nebraska is a billion times more oppressed than Oprah."

"And I agree with you, broadly at least." A fuzzy feeling welled in June's chest, unignorable. "But you're getting dangerously close to a hierarchy of oppression. Like, what's a worse experience, a white guy who can barely make rent, or a black woman who has a steady job but will never get promoted since her natural hair is unprofessional, and is treated as a traitor by half her old friends?"

June's lips opened to state that it was obviously the former, but Ore's raised eyebrow made her mouth dry up completely.

"The point is they're not comparable. They're different things. Different struggles. But both valid."

Yeah, sure, that made sense too.

But even through the golden haze of agreeing with the beauty on her screen, June still had issues. "But that's the thing, Ore... Those are super specific situations. Everyone's unique, what do you gain by pretending there's a big racial struggle when it's really just a bunch of individual assholes?"

"June, how many times has a man interrupted you this week?"

June would usually dismiss this as a ridiculous non sequitur. But Ore had been making good points that she couldn't think of counterarguments to, so she answered truthfully. "Ermm..." Her brain was not moving at full capacity though. "I can't count. Maybe seven?"

"The point is that this happens to every woman. Because it's a cultural phenomenon. One we should change. Socially, if not politically, because idpol is a movement, not just a party."

"Sure, sure..." June said, nodding along with what she didn't realise was a very silly-looking grin. "But, not all women are the same. I mean, as I said before, a working class woman can't challenge her boss on it for fear of being fired. But a rich woman can put her people down because she's in control." Hmm... a powerful woman in control... June lost her train of thought in Ore's level brown gaze.

"Congratulations, June" Her head perked up a little involuntarily at Ore's praise. "You've discovered intersectionality."

Even though Ore was completely deadpan, June was completely absorbed. Leaning forward with her chin in her hand and eyes wide she spoke in awe into her webcam. "Wait, really? I thought it was all just about transfem-otherkin-hispanic-lesbians?" Her respect for Ore prevented her from adding the 'attack helicopter' part.

"Obviously class is included too! It's an important identity!"

"What's the point, then? Sure, everyone faces different oppressions, I can accept that, but how do you fight for each one at once? Surely we should start with the important ones first?" June was hopeful that Ore could accept her point, even though it came from a place of poor understanding and ignorance.

"Well, you might think you know which ones are important, but that's an open question. But identity politics is a lens, it lets us see what's out there and how it affects different people. And it lets us see what's shared, and organise around it. Look, I'm sure you think the whole MeToo thing was 'virtue signalling' or something. But it organised people. We put fucking Weinstein in jail. Thanks to 'idpol'. That's worth something, right?"

Yep. Right. "But... Even without idpol... We would take down Weinstein..." June was finding it hard to articulate her thoughts. They were probably wrong. Ore was so beautiful and smart and so obviously correct.

"Maybe. But maybe the movement would leave alone an abuser who was a white working class kid? After all, he's not oppressing the poor, right?" June knew that the silly thought that had immediately responded 'yes, right!' was actually wrong. "Except that he was. Being working class doesn't make you not sexist, or racist. And that divides the working class, divides our movement. We're not the ones doing it."

We. That sounded nice. She was part of Ore's movement. A tool to be used by this powerful, stunning woman whose eyes pulsed at her from beyond the screen. June would gladly be her weapon to fight against the oppression of all identities.

"So... do I need to vote for Elizabeth Warren now? Or Kamala?"

Ore's face turned again into the quizzical frown which made June feel like a worthless fool.

"No? Of course not, haven't you been listening. Kamala is a literal cop. And don't get me started on Warren's low-key white nationalism. She took opportunities away from real indigenous women with her bullshit. No! Of course not! You vote for Bernie!"

"B-but... he's an old white man... that means he's the worst..." June felt like crying. Nothing made sense. Part of her brain wanted to agree that obviously Bernie was the right fighter for the working class, but another, more compliant part was sure he was not the right identity.

"Look, any woman of colour with Bernie's politics would be better since she would have a more instinctive understanding of that sort of intersectional oppression. If AOC could run, she would obviously be the pick. But she isn't, and Bernie has made it clear that he does, for the most part, get it."

Ore's soothing words brought calm to June's mind. She could be a warrior of identity politics while still upholding her belief that the working class needed liberation.

"We'll keep him on the right track, and he has some good women in his corner to do it too. But he's the best chance we have of making a good start to the change we need. Got it, sweetie?"

June nodded vigorously. She was so happy to finally get it. To finally be on the right side of history. And to be on what was obviously the right side of a power dynamic with Ore.

Of course, others needed to realise that, too.

"Ore... Could I get you on a call with my hubbie too, I think he needs to hear this... I'll thank you lots" She said, honestly, twirling a strand of hair.

Ore's image blurred for a final time, the golden rings swirling for a moment before her beautiful teacher returned to focus. The superior smirk on her face suited her perfectly. "Of course, sweetie. I'll need your help, though."

-----

Well this took longer than I thought! Imagine having to actually research my hypnofetish fiction to make sure I get the arguments broadly right.

This is a very late request for the late, great XennerdReborn . I hope you see this and enjoy it, friend!

And to everyone else, I hope you enjoyed June's gradual descent too. But I especially hope you learned something. And for all you yanks, you'd better feel the Bern, because you're our last hope now!