Monday, November 14, 2016

My Favorite Mindfuck

My husband K is a very possessive man. It's all right with Him if I play online from time to time, but otherwise He never shares. That's fine with me. Since we were teenagers, He has possessed my mind and body, and He uses both extremely creatively. He knows that I crave to serve others, so in my mind, I've had intense sex with everyone from Isaac Newton to Sally Ride. Life is not boring.

So it was a huge shock one night to discover that He really was sharing me, in our own home.

That evening He had sent me "away" for some time. That's what He often does when He is conspiring with megan, my subconscious. When I came back, there was a man in our playroom, and it wasn't K! All of a sudden, completely out of character, here was a beautiful man to play with me. He asked me to undress him and kiss him all over. He was dark-haired, dark-eyed, stocky. I was especially surprised by the size of his cock. I served them both; separately and together. It was bliss for me. 

When we were done, K tied me up, showed the man out, then came back to talk with me about what we had both enjoyed. For me it was the fact that I had finally been shared.

A couple of weeks later, the man visited us again, for another intense scene, which included my being fucked by that huge cock. The three of us were sitting together afterward, when K whispered into my ear, "OK, you can see clearly now."

All of a sudden this beautiful man morphed into a woman! Slim, quite short, nothing like the man who had just been on top of me.

I was completely freaked out. I'd fucked him! I'd had my hands all over his naked body! I could not believe I'd spent all that time with a woman instead. I had a bit of a panic attack.

After K showed her out, He explained it to me: 

He had come across a couple in our area who were looking to enhance their D/s relationship. He wanted to show the Domme in this relationship how deep hypnosis can take a sub -- as well as give me an experience with another man, which I have craved for years.  He  had invited her to visit us and watch our scenes play out.  It turns out that I wasn't even aware of her first visit. She apparently sat  in our playroom, directly in front of me, but invisible to me, while K and I played. On the second and third visits, with me fully awake and participating, she had fucked me with her strapon, but in real life had not even removed her clothes. 

To be honest, it took me some weeks to get over this. It was a stunning mindfuck to discover that my new male lover did not exist. And for a short time I was even jealous -- K had had a woman in our bed! 

Friday, October 2, 2015

Creating a Living Doll

"Fuck my brains out," Lillith said.

"That can be arranged," I said.

And so was born another hypnotic effect.

I'd thought occasionally about turning a partner into a floppy, mindless warm object, and this was my opportunity.

It didn't take long. I gave her subconscious a couple of instructions, resumed my labors, and with each stroke pushed more of her thoughts right out of her head. Soon it was empty. 

Her breathing changed, her eyes rolled up, and her limbs went limp. I got to find out what it's like to have a living doll to use for ... whatever. 

Now, we already play a lot of games with her memory. But this was more extreme.
This wasn't an ordinary trance. A loud noise, or intense sensation, or anything going wrong might bring her back from a standard trance. In contrast, I'm pretty sure an earthquake would not have disturbed my doll.

It also wasn't the kind of play where the subconscious blocks an existing memory, her conscious self gets to live with an edited memory set, and then afterward everything is restored and replayed.

Instead, she was just empty-headed throughout the experience. Well, my experience anyway. She experienced nothing. The key instruction to her subconscious was to simply not record any memories at all; no awareness would be needed, and no recall would be available later.

Sometime later, when Lillith's eyes rolled back down, it took a long time for them to focus. And then came the confused questions. Um, is it ... Friday? Where are we? What just happened? Her amnesia included even the discussion that had set this up. 

When I explained what we'd done, all she could do was shrug.

I asked her yesterday what she recalls.

"It was like waking up from deep sleep with extreme disorientation and a telltale stickiness between my legs.  I'm fervently grateful You were there to explain what had just occurred, because I had no clue whatsoever, beyond the knowledge that You had been up to *something* ... again. It's extremely hot to think You have that much of an alliance with my "core"  to make this possible. Trust and limits have an inverse relationship with each other."

I honestly don't know what's hotter: That now I can do anything physical without leaving any mental or emotional trace; or simply that she trusts me enough to go there.

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

The power of hypnotic arousal

I was halfway up a mountain the other day, watching a hawk hunting, when my phone rang. It was Sabrina. She calls every once in a while for a tune-up, when her persona slips back into her old, slow Shannon self. She is about 10 times more busy, happy and wealthy as Sabrina, so it's fortunate that the fix is easy. 

Shannon said she'd be happy to get back to her mental beach. So I sent her off into a deep trance, summoned Sabrina back out front, and helped her re-establish her much higher energy self in Shannon's body. 

And, then, to lock her persona into place, I talked her into an explosive orgasm. I never get tired of that sound.

A few seconds later, Sabrina was back in peak power mode. "Right. Thank you. I'm good," she said crisply. 

And while that scene could lead me into a dozen different stories, I'm going to talk about that orgasm.
You see, I've found that peak arousal is the most effective time to plant a hypnotic suggestion, to get it to stick. I learned it early in my erotic hypnosis adventures, and it's now a routine step.

* Lillith wanted to crave some particularly masochistic behavior. No problem. I described her new fetish in detail ... with several fingers squirming inside her. Done.

* Paula needed to shed the few remaining issues she had with anal sex. Those suggestions were accomplished with the help of a vibrator.

* Mary wanted to become fearless. Her subconscious advised that she could take care of installing that change while I held Mary teetering on the edge of orgasm for a few minutes. Mission accomplished, but I had no idea Mary knew so many obscenities.

So Sabrina's loud telephone cum was perfectly normal. 

I'm not sure what's at play here, but other hypnotists have mentioned the same thing. There is something about the physical, chemical or mental states of arousal and orgasm that opens up the mind to new ideas.

I've used this to technique to introduce people to breath play, to needles, to deep throat, to floggers, to memory play, to persona play ... whatever edge they wanted pushed.

If you try this yourself, though, here's a warning, from Lillith's subconscious: "Be careful what you ask for," she says. You may be deeply installing an attachment that is not easily undone.

Sunday, June 1, 2014

The Land Beyond Orgasm

I like to color outside the lines.

So it's no surprise that, after hypnotically inducing orgasms in some large number of women, I looked beyond that goal to something more challenging.

What I found: The Land Beyond Orgasm. It's now one of my favorite destinations.

I was sitting with Lillith on the bed, as I explained the concept.

Ordinarily, I said, your arousal rises up to a level of, say, 8 or 9, and then eventually reaches the point at which you orgasm, which we'll call 10. Your arousal then drops down a bit, and either rises again to 10 each time you orgasm, or drops back down to some lower number, when you get up or fall asleep.

So orgasms limit your arousal level to 10. 

But what if you didn't orgasm? What if you stepped right past that, up to 11 or 12 or beyond, ignoring the orgasm level and letting your arousal keep growing?

She was game. She usually is.

Her arousal level was already around 6, so we started there. I held on tight to her and started counting slowly. I felt, and heard, her arousal clearly growing as we approached 10, a familiar place for her. But we never got there. I said "9"... felt her tremble ... and then said "11." 

"OhMyGodOhMyGodOhMyGod," she said. That was the most coherent thing I heard for a while.
I told her to  say "Yes," as she achieved each number. "13," I said. Long pause, gasps, shivers. "Yes," she squeaked. 

It went on like this. Around 20, I started pointing out that from this altitude she could see new territory and colors and could feel new textures and sensations. She agreed, and tried to describe them, but really couldn't put together a full sentence.

At 30, Lillith spontaneously squirted. She didn't orgasm; her arousal was still stratospheric. Somewhere in the mid-30s, I feared she would hyperventilate, and starting backing her down. I skipped 10 again on the way back down, and she was limp.

I've suggested this game with a few other partners. The results are always different, and always interesting. Gloria starts seeing stars and planets up around 50, and incinerates in the galactic core around 75.
LadyAdventure experienced some sort of psychic breakthrough the one time we reached 35, and ever since has been capable of trance amnesia. Sabrina regularly asks to be counted up to 50 -- it feels like she's pulling herself up a mountain -- to keep her energy levels high for her demanding career.

But Lillith's experience remains unique. The second time we explored the Land Beyond Orgasm, she asked to stay there. I obliged.

Her arousal level now hovers around 13 or 14 most of the time. She's not dropped below 10 since then. (She wears a sanitary pad every day, sometimes more than one, to keep her underwear dry.) 

She hasn't orgasmed in more than two years. And she's not asked to go back.

Friday, July 19, 2013

The hypnotized heart

As an evil mad scientist, I'd be nowhere without my kinky lab assistants. They are eager collaborators in my erotic hypno research. You should thank them for their sacrifices on your behalf.

Lately, I've been working with them on hypnotic control over body functions. I don't know about others' experiences, but it seems easiest to control orgasms, then throat and anus. Getting the pussy to open hungrily on its own with no insertion is challenging, but achievable.

Lillith, one of my assistants, especially loves the messy bits. Her body pees, poops, vomits and squirts on command. She cheerfully reports how many towels she's sleeping on, or how many pads she's gone through at work. (She has a high-powered, highly visible job, adding to the fun.)

She has wondered for some time whether I could control her even more fundamentally -- by directing her pulse and blood pressure. So she got her hands on a simple blood pressure and pulse monitor.

We set up the protocol a few days ago. Lillith would lie down (on towels of course), wear the wristband monitor and hold her phone. So she could read my instructions, read the monitor and text me back.

After a baseline measurement, I would tell her to feel in turn physical pain, then physical pleasure, then emotional pleasure, then emotional pain. (I enhanced each sensation with a few words directed just to her subconscious.) She'd report the results for each. Then I'd give her subconscious a few more surreptitious instructions, and see how Lillith's body reacted to those as well.  

I may as well just show you the data. These readings were all about two minutes apart.

"Lying comfortably": 108 over 62, pulse 72.

"Now I'll make it hurt" (she felt her pussy stretching painfully): 121 over 66, pulse 93.

"Now the same sensation, only pleasurable": 110 over 62, pulse 106.

"Now happy thoughts": 103 over 60, pulse 77.

"Now painful thoughts": 87 over 56, pulse 75.

"Now bring it back to normal": 101 over 61, pulse 68.

I then told her subconscious to drive her blood pressure up to 120 or so: 116 over 62, pulse 76.

I then told her subconscious to bring her pulse down as slow as was safe: 83 over 51, pulse 54. She was almost too sleepy to report.

Then I told Lillith to bring it back up to 106 again. It took her several tries, but she managed 105 over 63.

So let's look at those numbers. 

Her pulse, normally 72, rose as high as 106 for great pleasure, and as low as 54 when told to slow down.Her systolic pressure, normally a healthy 108, was pushed as high as 121 for great pain (still not bad) and as low as 83. Her diastolic pressure didn't budge much (except for the super-slow pulse). 

And she clearly has both conscious and subconscious ways of managing her blood pressure, at least when I'm there to provide a guide.

This roller-coaster ride took all of 20 minutes. She was wide awake and trance-free for the whole experience.

What did we learn? We now know that my hypnotic effects are not just skin deep. Her whole body shares in the experiences. I now know I can inflict intense hypnotic pain, or pleasure, without straining her heart, and that I can even send her off to sleep if I want. It all goes into the toybag to be used whenever the mood strikes.

And that ping you just heard? Another lab assistant, asking to try it next.

Monday, April 8, 2013

The transformation

Three weeks ago, she called herself asexual. Today she masturbates at least daily. Three weeks ago, she avoided dressing well in public for fear that people would think her a slut. Today, she enjoys the looks she gets at the gym. 

Three weeks ago, she was Shannon the highly inhibited psychotherapist. Today, she is Sabrina, the therapist who makes a point of telling her clients to consider their sexual health.

Shannon, a fan of this blog for some time, had gotten in touch with me, with issues that standard therapy hadn't touched, decades of challenges to her sexual self-esteem. Her uncle had molested and belittled her at age 3. Her mother had punished her for every slight step in the direction of romance or sexual expression, whether at age 8, 12 or 17. High school boyfriends had bragged about her as a conquest. She'd made a few bad relationship choices as an adult. 

Meanwhile, just under the surface, she hid a part of herself she called Sabrina. Sabrina was all the things Shannon was not -- sexually comfortable, but also organized, efficient, brave and unashamed. Shannon wanted all those things. Could I help?

It turned out that many of my Global Suggestion methods, especially those enlisting her subconscious mind, helped to turn down the negatives and turn up the positives. 

It was a team effort. 

Sabrina helped Shannon buy sex toys. Then, when Shannon tried to use them, and her mother's voice scolded her, her subconscious showed her how to mock her mother's interruptions. Meanwhile, I was helping Shannon feel her own body again -- first with the pain of clothespins, then with a well of pleasure that I located in her lower back. She could share the energetic pleasure with others by touching them... and refill the well by touching herself with her toys.

We also discovered that she had a conscious entity on board that was repeating her dear uncle's comments in her ear. I persuaded Amanda to become her inner cheerleader instead. 

All these helped, but I was nervous. I knew that for Easter Shannon was going to spend a long weekend with her family, a set of people who routinely triggered her worst behaviors and worst thoughts about herself. I expected a setback.

But, surprise, the night before the trip, Shannon said that she was just too tired of feeling guilty and anxious all the time. What she really wanted was to take a vacation of a different sort.

"I want a place where I can rest and heal. I want a place where I don't have to be responsible for daily projects and organizing and future planning." She decided it was her turn to hibernate, preferably on a warm beach somewhere. And that Sabrina was perfectly capable of managing things.

When would she want to go? "Tonight, when I sleep. I need to say goodbye to my cat."

So now Sabrina is in charge. She checks in on Shannon from time to time, but mostly is out in the world, exploring and enjoying her new life. Her laundry is done. The house is clean. She works out reliably. Her colleagues have noticed her new energy. 

And whenever she feels out of sorts, out of balance, she pulls out her toys and re-centers herself with a good solid orgasm. 

Saturday, March 23, 2013

A professional, with a personal request

Store clerk: "Yes, may I help you?"

Young professional woman, holding up package of tiny clothespins decorated with red ladybugs: "Can you tell me whether these are as tight as regular clothespins?"

Store clerk, staring: "You weren't planning to use those on clothes, were you?"

No, of course not. Shannon was planning to use them on her breasts.

The previous night, Shannon had worn six ordinary wood clothespins, at my suggestion. They were intense, she reported, equal parts painful and arousing. But now she wanted a change -- for something more attractive. And the ladybugs did the trick. Next day, she wore 31 of them, for a telephone meeting that she ran from home. She thinks no one noticed.

Shannon is a longtime reader of this blog, who finally built up the nerve to order a few of my recordings and then asked me for more training.

What particularly interests me about Shannon:  She's a psychotherapist, and a hypnotherapist, with a busy practice. But she sees in BDSM hypnosis new opportunities for sexual healing that ordinary psychotherapy cannot touch, and she wants to find out. With herself as test subject.  I'm happy to explore this too.

As it turns out, the clothespins were just the start of an intense week for Shannon.

In the course of our hypnotically tackling and resolving one issue she's had since she was 3, these things occurred: She found herself standing naked on her balcony, in the middle of the night (for how long she does not recall); tied up and taken by an anonymous lover who left her squirting on her bed; kneeling in someone else's bathroom, holding her breath as her arousal grew toward orgasm;  curled up as a kitten at the end of her own bed for the night; and giving a public presentation one evening with the aforementioned clothespins on her nipples, just concealed by her professional clothes.

Shannon has a lot of remaining sexual inhibitions, and a lot of work ahead of her. (Example: She is just now buying her first sex toys.) But by the time she's done, I expect that she will be shame-free, fully in charge of her own sexuality.

Watch out. Next time a clerk asks her about her plans for the pretty clothespins, Shannon just might show her.