Image Set

Well I made an image, but the layers were driving me nuts.  Couldn't decide which I preferred.  So I thought I'd dust off this blog and post them here

As for the rankings.. I'm tempted to give it to Ceasar just for the smoking red head in his manip, but that wouldn't be fair.


So so far we have

MCCeasar's
http://hypnopics-collective.net/cpg132/displayimage.php?pos=-118696

Nikki's
http://hypnopics-collective.net/cpg132/displayimage.php?pos=-118647

SciFi's
http://hypnopics-collective.net/cpg132/displayimage.php?pos=-118512
and follow up's

And Wildfire's
http://hypnopics-collective.net/cpg132/displayimage.php?pos=-118441


Right now though I think Ceasar and Nikki are the front runners, though I certainly appreciate SciFi's multiple entries.

I do hope more people will enter, or these talented people will try again ;)

Something old

So I've been submitting ideas to Daphne for her MC comix venture, though I've yet to hear back.. And It prompted me to pull out old half finished stories looking for more ideas.

So here's an attempt made at a story starring my alternate ego.. Perhaps you'll enjoy it


I strolled down the street, feet bare, carrying my shoes.  It had been a long day, followed by a long evening, and it felt good to let my feet rest, stretch my legs and just breathe in the night air.  I was on my way home from Adam's place and after the workout he put me through I certainly needed to stretch my legs.  A pleasant ache filled my body as I hummed to myself, reveling in the hot summer night.

It was one of those perfect evenings, just the right temperature that you could strip naked and run through the streets without catching a chill.  Not that "I" would ever do that of course.

A hot breeze blew up the street, swirling my hair around my face, and with a low rumble I belatedly realized that a storm was brewing.

I began to hurry, as the first drops of rain pattered down around me, but I was too late, and by the time I reached my building I was drenched.  My thin sun dress plastered to my skin, and clearly revealing my lack of preparation for the weather in the total absence of undergarments.

As I passed people on the street I caught more than my share of looks from men with umbrellas, but of course, no offers of aid.  Until I reached my door.

Paul.. My doorman's name is Paul by the way.. Rushed out from the entrance to throw his coat around my shoulders.  I rolled my eyes, I'm ashamed to say, thinking he saw a girl in distress, and saw an opportunity.  But as he rushed me inside his eyes didn't linger on my curves, or even on my face.  He was rushing back out into the sudden storm to help a passer-bye, whose umbrella had been turned inside out and was being hauled down the street.  I watched the pudgy man dash back and forth, for close to 5 minutes watching him help them catch the escaping umbrella, help a bedraggled man in from his car, and yes, I swear to god, even help an old lady who was stuck across the street.

I was stunned.  This small, poorly paid, unattractive man was going out of his way to help people who wouldn't give him the time of day.  And what was worse, most of them didn't seem to notice.

I smiled, and reminded myself that not everyone was as self involved as I was, and that there were in fact good people in the world.  And on that lovely thought, I dripped my way back to my apartment to find a hot bath.

The next morning is when things started to go wrong.  For as Paul surely knew, in this world it seems everyone wants the nice guys to finish last.

As I arrived downstairs for my morning run, I found a scene waiting for me.  Poor Paul was looking rather worse the wear after his excursions last night.  In fact his coat was rather stained, and looked to still be wet.  All in all not cutting the most professional figure at our door, I must admit.  Unfortunately I wasn't the only one to notice, as Emily Samson was standing in the lobby screaming at him at the top of her lungs.

Mrs. Samson is something of a personal annoyance to me.  As a member of the strata council she is quick to report any... Noise violations coming from my apartment, and just my luck, she lives right underneath me.

A spoiled urban housewife without children, she had nothing better to do than spend money on plastic surgery, make trouble for others, and serve as transport for that ridiculous dog of hers.

She berated Paul, and I could see the frustration and shame in his eyes, almost bringing the poor man to tears.  Apparently this wasn't the first time his uniform had been less than spotless, and she was working herself into a towering rage, insinuating that she would make sure he lost his job.

I couldn't believe the gall of the bitch as I watched from the elevator.  How cocky she was, and how certain of her superiority.  I decided that Paul didn't deserve his treatment.. and held the door open for Emily as she stormed my way.

"Going up?"  I asked innocently, standing aside for the raging pampered princess.

"Oh it's you.  50.”  She said in a huff, crossing her arms and subtly pulling back, as if afraid she would catch something just by breathing the same air as me.

"Can you believe that man?  Coming to work like that?"  She asked, waving her hand in my face.

"Well.. I'm sure he had a good reason.  Did you ask?"  I barely got the words out before she cut me off. "There Is No excuse for looking like that.. He represents this building!"  leaving the words unspoken that by extension he represented her.

"Surely his actions count more than his appearance?"  I asked with a grin.

"You're kidding yourself.. The outside reflects the inside.. If he's sloppy on the outside, he obviously doesn’t care about this job."  She shoot her head.. with a disgusted look.

"You must be right, of course..  People are what they look like, right?"  I kept my tones even, soothing,

"R.right.." she muttered, stealing a glance at my red lips, and unconfined breasts, shifting under my dress.  “You seem to understand perfectly that.. appearance is everything.”  Her tone dripped with venom, as if to say that I also looked.. Inappropriate.

I smiled and let the conversation lull, listening to her breathing even out.

"Don't you just love the new display they put in for the elevators?  I'm so glad you took my suggestion”  I I nodded at the floor display, a soothing colorful blend that faded from one floor to another.  It’s interesting, how off center people are in elevators.  They can’t fit it in to any of their normal social conventions, and so any conversation tends to put them off balance.

"Yes well.. it was by far the cheapest bid.. It made good business sense, was nothing to do with.."  She trailed off, disappointed that anything I proposed had been accepted, and unable to accept that I may have offered a good suggestion based on any valid reasons.

"They are lovely though aren't they.. the way they fade in and out, relaxing.. " I murmured, making her strain to hear me..

"Y.yes.. quite relaxing"

"It's fitting for an elevator, which can be stressful for some.. helping them relax"

"They help you just, let go your tensions, your apprehensions, don't they."  I asked quietly.. deliberately keeping my voice level, turning it into a statement.

"mmhmm" she muttered, under her breath.

"So easy to tune out as we ride.. relax.. wait for the ride to end"

"So easy to relax, listen to the chimes, watch the number scroll by."

"relax.. relax and listen dear.. so relaxing to listen isn't it"  I watched her eyes glaze over as she let the numbers roll by.. 30.. 31.. I'd have to be fast.

She murmured an affirmation under her breath.. mouth hanging open, eyes fixed and empty.

"Just relax and listen dear.. Nothing else matters.. nothing disturbing you.. nothing at all"  I leaned in closer, letting my breathe brush over her ear, heightening her discomfort, her distress, not letting her poor mind settle into an accepted pattern, keeping her off balance.

I whispered in her ear growing quieter, forcing her to lean in to hear.

"Feels so good to relax doesn't it.. feels pleasurable. so nice.. to relax and listen.  Just want to relax and listen to me."

I watched her breathing settle.. her eyes focus on the numbers, as her mind struggled to find anything familiar, anything she could handle, watching her lock onto those numbers and follow them.. follow my words.

"So relaxing.. liberating.. just listening.. following"

"following.. " her muttered response made me grin as stepped around her.. staring into her eyes.. forcing a break in her anchor.. in the only thing holding her back.

“relax dear.. Deeper and deeper”

She stared back into my eyes.. struggling to hold on.. eye lids growing heavier, weaker.. swaying on her feet.  I reached out to steady her, letting my words guide her deeper.

“Deeper.. relax dear.. let it happen.. feels so good to let go.. let go.. no need to feel so tense.. so uptight.. so stressed.. just relax.. Deeper and deeper.”

She rocked on her heels.. staring into my eyes.. her eyelids fluttering as her mouth opened and closed.. as if struggling to speak.

“So good.. feels so good.. just relax dear.. relax.. sleep”

I let my hands pull her forward, brushing a palm over her eyes, forcing her head back as her body moved forward.  The sudden shock slamming her eyes shut, slowing her breathing, letting her body go limp in my hands.  I steadied her.. letting her regain her balance as I talked her down deeper.. and deeper..

“Good girl.. just drift.. listen..”

I let my eyes rake over her.. taking in all the little details.

I’ve always had a gift, for reading people, seeing their little quirks, what makes them tick.  And Emily was, like many corporate wife’s, hopelessly uptight.  She stressed over everything, since so little was in her control, she gripped what she could reach with a death grip.  And like most, it exhausted her, she was just dying to let it slip, but was just too afraid.

I took in her frame, her enlarged breasts carefully concealed in a neat blue jacket.  It revealed so much, how she was willing to change herself to please her husband, how she sought his approval.  Probably had an absent father figure, and now was eager to seek the approval of authority figures.

The elevator reached our floor, as I looked at my relaxed neighbor, and thought on what to do with her.  A wicked idea occurred to me, and I reached over to push the button for the main floor.

“You were made at Paul weren’t you Emily?”  I asked her gently.. leading her thoughts.

“yes.. he..”  I cut her off quickly “But you can’t remember what he did.. can you.. it all seems so .. silly now.. getting mad for nothing.”

“no.. he.. um..”  I cut her off again.. leading her “You can’t remember what he did.. in fact.. you got mad for no reason..”

“Oh.. that’s..”  I smiled as she accepted her new reality. “Paul is really a nice man isn’t he.. he runs the doorway, with such confidence.. such authority..”

She quirked her mouth.. confused “he.. does?”

“Yes, he does Emily.  He has such confidence, such authority at the door, running it, helping people.  He’s such a nice man, so kind”

“Oh.. “  she murmured.. a bit sadly..

“Yes.. and you were so cruel to him, weren’t you.. Made him so sad..”  I whispered in her ear as the elevator began it’s slow descent.

“Ohh..”  I continued, guiding her thoughts. “You’re terribly sorry, aren’t you Emily, for being so cruel to him.. You want to make it up to him, don’t you.”

“yes.. he’s so nice.. want to please him.. runs the door.. should be nice”  I smiled, seeing how she had picked up that he was an authority figure, watching her own internal programming pick it up and run with it.  A lifetime of trying to please male authority figures stepping in.  I quickly moved on to the next phase of my little scheme.

"Remember what you said dear.. about how what you look like determines how you act?" I grinned wickedly.. pulling a bright red lipstick out of my purse, and quickly applying a thick coat to her slack lips as the floors counted down.

"myeah"  she responded.. swaying gently on her feet.

“Appearance is all that matters.. right?”  I whispered with a grin.  Unbuttoning that thick jacket, revealing a lovely silk blouse beneath.

“yeah..”

“What you look like.. that’s all that matters.. that’s who you are..”  I repeated for her, cementing the idea in her mind, peeling off her jacket, hiking up her skirt to show off her rather stunning legs.

"You believe that.. don't you.  Totally and completely.. Down to your core.  Don't you."  I reached down to slowly lower her panties, leaving them in a pool about her black patent pumps.

"yeah sure.."

"Say it for me dear.. Believe it more and more.. repeat it.. believing it more and more."  I breathed the words in her ear, unbuttoning her blouse to expose some surprisingly racy red lingerie.  I suddenly had an image of what this woman’s private life was like.  A whore in the bedroom indeed..

"what.. look like.. swho you are.. " she murmured.. words getting firmer as she spoke, even as I deftly unbuttoned her bra, leaving her firm breasts exposed to the air.  Her nipples didn’t respond immediately, and I wondered if the surgery had cost her some sensitivity.. before I jerked my wandering mind back to task.  I would have plenty of time to admire her body later.

I let her repeat those words, a mantra for a while as I worked.  Those fake tits didn’t need the support, so I tossed the bra aside and pulled her blouse back on.  The soft silk caressing her skin as I buttoned it only half way.  The cleavage thus created left very little the imagination.  It was clear she wasn’t wearing a bra, and equally clear that her breasts couldn’t be natural.

"Your appearance.. Defines you..  Say it and believe it dear"  I reached out to caress her breasts for a moment, feeling her nipples erect, poking through the thin silk and thrusting themselves into the spotlight  I was getting rather.. worked up, to be working with such a lovely subject.  I knew I would need to spend quite some time rolling this image over and over in my head once I got back to my room.

"My appearance Defines me.. " She gasped.. her eyes fluttering, her lips mimicking my words.  I quickly checked the floor, 25, halfway back.

"Good girl Emily"  I whispered as she beamed at the praise.. Isn't that sweet.. She must not get enough positive re-enforcement from her husband..

I gently held her shoulders and turned her to face the full length elevator mirror. 
“I want you to relax Emily.. stay so relaxed.. and open your eyes”  I held her gently, whispering in her ear, and watched as she opened her eyes with a gasp.. taking in the image before her.  I felt a deliciously erotic thrill as I watched her mind struggle with the unexpected image.

There she was.. in a terribly short skirt, and half buttoned silk blouse, her breasts thrust forward as I held back her shoulders.  I watched her eyes fasten on her erect nipples and widen in surprise and fascination.  As her eyes moved up her body I listened to her breath rasp out of her, filling with arousal.  I smiled knowing that she had made the correct interpretation.

“What do you see Emily?”  I whispered in her ear..

“A .. slut.. “ she whispered.. a thick.. heavy breathy tone filling her throat.  As her eyes raked over the image before her.  The thick make-up, glistening red lips, fake, round tits, with no bra to conceal the erect nipples.  I watched her make the connections.. hard nipples meant arousal.. short skirt.. no bra, meant she was a slut..

She moaned.. arousal overtaking her as he tongue darted out to wet her lips..

“What else Emily?”  I murmured, licking her earlobe, sliding my hands around her body to caress her breasts.

She leaned back against me, eyes wide open, staring, her mouth gasping with pleasure.

“A .. horny.. slut.. she looks.. like a whore.. some.. cock sucking.. slut.. with that lipstick..”  She shuddered, writhing against me as my hand slipped down under her skirt to tease.. finding her already dripping.. waiting.. eager.

“Good girl..”  I whispered.. feeling her press forward into my hands, moaning at my words.  Still so eager to please.

“That’s who you are isn’t it Emily.. a horny slut..”  She moaned.. nodding.. unable to take her eyes off the erotic display taking place before her in the mirror.

I looked up, and realized my time was short.  I gently pulled her around to face me and stared into her half lidded eyes.

“Emily.. were almost to the main floor.  Do you remember who’s on the main floor?”  I spoke slowly, trying to cut through the haze of lust that was overwhelming her.

“uh huh.. Paaul..”  She smiled, reaching out to try and pull me into a kiss.  I pushed her back, smiling at the cute little pouting face she made.

“That’s right.. and what do you think of Paul?”  I asked, reminding myself that I could take a turn with her later.

“Ohh poor Paul.. I got so mad at him.. I shouldn’a done that.. I feel so baad..” her face contorting in a cute little grimace.. eyes brimming with tears.

“That’s ok Emily.. because you’re going to make it up to him..”

“Ohh yeah..”  She grinned.. licking her lips, her mind immediately connecting how a horny slut could make up an offense to a kind male authority figure that she had maligned.

I stepped back, watching the floor counter reach 1, and felt the elevator begin to slow.  Emily stepped forward, eagerly awaiting the opening of the doors.  Her hands gripped her tits.. kneading them eagerly, almost needy as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

As the doors slid open and my little playmate rushed out into the lobby I smiled.  I watched the formerly prim corporate wife stalk through the waiting throng and throw herself at the feet of the shocked pudgy doorman.

I waved to Paul, but I’m sure he didn’t notice, too distracted by the woman who had just yelled at him fishing his rapidly hardening member out of his pants as she begged forgiveness.

As the elevator doors closed I smiled, watching a nice guy finally finish first.

Poor Paul, how embarrassing.  I can only do so much.

Is the extra effort worth it?

Ok so I did a set of heavily manipped pics today.  And it took a while.  The question is, is it worth it?

So here's some shots for comparisons

The first is 1 layer, with some very quick expansion on the boobs.  Took 1 minute.  The text is a time sink, but that's going to be the same either way.  The second shot has 3 layers, 1 for the boobs, so that i can seperate them out and get less distortion on the arms and background, 1 for the body, and 1 for the background so I can blur and mute it, which will get progressively more muted as the series goes on for a fading effect.

The question is, does anyone see the arms?  Should I bother separating out the tits?  Is anyone noticing the background fade?  Is it worth the time?

Here again.  First shot has a boobie layer, a lip layer, a body, and a background.  Letting me get that pink, over saturated lips, bigger tits, without distorting the body.. Is it worth it?  The boobs especially take a while to get right, and the background isolation.  The lips were quick.  Obviously the difference is noticeable, but is it really better?  What do you think?

Hell should I even be enlarging the tits?  Both these women are hugely endowed to begin with.  Here's source pics for reference.

And the second from the set so you can see the fade..

Ending it

She was standing with some friends of hers, laughing, and as I walked by I heard snippets of their conversation.

They were laughing at me.

She was telling them how she had just played along, how silly it was that I thought I could hypnotize people, how pathetic..

She called out something to me as I walked past, determined to ignore her, barely hearing her as I left that room behind, trying to just get to my car, get away from these people.  I don't recall what it was, but it was cruel, and hurtful, and it cut through the fugue that I was in.

I turned around, and locked eyes with hers.

I've never quite recreated what happened that night, though I've tried, and thought about it endlessly.  It was some perfect storm of factors.  For one, she was a submissive, being a bitch.  She knew she deserved to be punished, wanted to be in fact, even if she hadn't admitted it to herself.  She was herself, quite a good subject, who had just been hypnotized, and was probably still quite suggestible..

And of course.. I lost my temper.

I have one.  Quite a bad one.  One that used to get me into oh so much trouble when I was younger, but I had been working hard to get under control.  But that night, and that girl, and the things she said.. I just snapped.

I looked into her eyes, and felt my temper just.. snap.
I looked deep into her eyes, and watched the mocking laughter freeze in her throat, the humour die, and the fear start to rise.  I watched the thoughts mill about in a sudden frenzy, plain as day in the shadows on her face, her confidence falter, those submissive tendencies rear up unbidden from the back of her mind.

I saw her twitch, as if to look around for her boyfriend, for help, but she couldn't break away from me.

I pinned her, from ten feet away, across a crowded kitchen floor, I pinned her with my eyes, with my anger, with my will.  And she buckled before me.

I heard her laugh die, and then those of the girls around her, who realizing something was wrong turned to look at me.  They giggled nervously, thinking I had overheard, and was angry.. but not really understanding what that meant.

Not yet.

I let the noise die, I let the world fall away.  Until it was just me and her, our eyes, our wills, and nothing else.  Focused intently on the only thing that mattered in that moment.  Each other.  I glared, and watched her wilt.  She couldn't take a step back, but I could see how badly she wanted to, wanted to run, wanted to flee, but I had her snared.

I took a step towards her, and watched her mirror me, stepping back to me.  Slowly, step by step, we met in the middle.  Her struggling, looking as if she wanted to break and run.  Me confidently, striding, purposefully, devouring the space between us with two long confident steps.

I stopped there, looking deep into her eyes from six inches away, feeling her shiver before me, watched her mouth work, as if trying to form words.  Watched her eyelids flutter, as if trying to break away.

But I wouldn't let her.  I held her there.

I broke her there.. On the kitchen floor.

I spoke, quietly, barely above a whisper, barely audible even as close as she was, and watched her eyes widen as she realized what was happening.  I told her how many eyes were on her, and how exciting it was.  I told her how everyone was looking at her, and How turned on that must make her.  I spoke.. and watched her desires change to match my words.

I spoke, for what felt like hours, teasing, tantalizing, spinning a verbal web around her every thought, her every escape, building her higher and higher.  I felt her knees shudder, felt the heat rising off of her, but she couldn't move, couldn't escape me.  I spoke, and she reacted.  I played her, I broke her, like a puppet on my strings.  And oh how she danced...

I probably only spoke for a minute.  Just long enough for those around me to start to wonder.  Just long enough for them to start to look at us, to wonder what was happening.  Just long enough..

I built her up.. I let that incredible fire for being watched, being seen rise and consume her.  Burning through her mind like an inferno, leaving nothing but the desire, the need..  I stoked it, and helped it.. And then I turned away from her, and let it loose.

I'll never forget the sound she made, as her eyes broke away from mine.  This shuddering gasp, taking in air as if she hadn't breathed in weeks.  Her eyes rolling in her head, looking around the room, seeing how everyone was staring at her, looking at her.  And before I could even take one step her hands were flying, tugging, pulling, rubbing.

She collapsed back to the kitchen floor, her shirt torn aside and tiny tits exposed, her skirt hiked up and panties torn apart as her fingers thrust inside of her..

The last time I saw her was as her back arched and she came.. over and over.. in the middle of the crowded kitchen floor as I turned to walk away.

I don't know what happened after that.  They never told me.  But the noises followed me.  Her moans followed me, to my car, and then in my dreams..

Sneak Preview

The first two images of a series I'm working on for the collective.  Hope it's interesting

Not one breath

I've stalled on this post for ages.  For a number of reasons.

On the practical, it's hard for me to write.  I like a first person voice, and since I was only indirectly involved in the events to come, it makes it rather difficult.

On the emotional..  It wasn't an easy time for me, and isn't easy to write about.  I just keep putting off trying again I suppose.

But I've stalled enough.. Just go easy on me if it's not up to my usual inconsistent and unreliable standard.

She pulled him in and I stopped breathing.

I looked at her in panic, not sure what was about to happen. I saw Jordan as he looked at me, confused, not sure what I was doing there either. I wanted to melt, to disappear, to just curl up and die, feeling so confused, so out of place.

But Kailen's eyes calmed me down. I wonder now if she had that same.. strange ability I do. That ability to seemingly reach into someones head and pluck out their thoughts. To see what they wanted.

Or maybe I was just that obvious, to everyone except myself.

She gave me this look, and said so much in it. She said it was allright. She said she knew what she was doing. And knew what I needed. To just relax, and let it happen.

I shivered, and she took Jordan's hand and pulled him back to look at her. Tore his eyes off of me, so that I could finally breathe. Turned him about to look her in the eye. Gave me a little smile over his shoulder, and then focused entirely on him.

There were words, a conversation of confusion and leading questions.  I don't recall what was said exactly, so I won't try to reproduce it here.  Suffice to say Jordan was unknowingly lead into a verbal snare, voicing those words that I had drilled deep into Kailen's subconscious..

He started to say something else too. Probably going back to asking Kailen why I was in here. But he was cut off by a moan.

Kailen's back arched, and she leaned into him. He started to ask her what was the matter, but she cut him off with a kiss. A deep, passionate kiss that left him dazed as she broke it with a gasp. She grabbed at his crotch, muttering how she didn't know it would feel like this, about how badly she needed it, and pushed him back onto the bed.

She climbed on top, despite his protests, and started to fumble with his belt.

He resisted, asking what was going on, but she just slid a hand into his jeans, told him to just relax and enjoy himself, and closed his mouth with a kiss.

There was moaning, from both of them, and me.. I don't really remember it all that well.  Things got.. Hot, wet.. Clothes were removed, and things got blurry.  I remember reaching, stretching out an arm.. and then I just couldn't take it anymore.

I got up, and walked out of the room.

Shutting the door behind me was probably one of the most difficult things I had done..

I was shaking, barely able to focus, think, see.. There were tears in my eyes as I walked through the sea of people, back to my car.  Ready to get out of there, to forget it..

Then Lisa got in my way.

I had a thought

Most people reading this know I dabble making little caption pics for the collective.. Think I should post them here first?  It would certainly pad the post count, and give you something to look at between more literate posts...

What do you think?

Rapid Descent

I despaired at first of knowing what to do. It's not like I had any concept of therapy. And didn't really want to.

I didn't want to get into her issues, the causes of this trouble. I would give her what she wanted if I could, and get out of there. I already couldn't stand myself. How was I going to feel after sending her back to her boyfriend?

I gave myself a moment for self pity, and self loathing, and settled down next to her on the bed.

I talked to her for what felt like hours. Describing how I wanted her to feel. How she wanted herself to feel. Connecting memories of arousal, submission, that act of kneeling to pleasure her boyfriend. You know what, let's call him Jordan. I'm getting tired of writing the word Boyfriend.

I made sure every lick, every taste, every time her mouth wrapped around his shaft that she would feel such exquisite pleasure. I told her how the act would make her feel, like a goddess, and a servant all at once. I watched her writhe in pleasure at my words, and barely kept myself from re-enforcing those suggestions of pleasure more directly.

I can't tell you how tempting it was. Seeing her moaning, back arching, those perfect breasts thrust out before me.

It's right now that I realize I may not have mentioned that I'm Bi. As if it wasn't obvious from that last paragraph.

But it went on. And I resisted. I talked, and she listened. I gave her what she wanted. I gave her license to feel how she wanted to feel, to be who she wanted to be. And I cursed myself for doing it.

Finally. When I was sure, when I was positive that the suggestions would hold, that they would endure, and that she wouldn't instead break down into tears at the conflicting feelings. I woke her up.

She blinked, looked confused, asked how long it had been. I told her the truth, that I didn't know, and just sat back in my chair.

She told me that she didn't feel any different. Asked if I was sure it would work.
I told her it would if she wanted it to. Simple as that.

She sat up and looked at me with those sad, understanding eyes, said thank you, and walked out of the room.

I sat there alone in the dark, for perhaps 5 minutes. Holding my knees, rocking back and forth. Trying to summon the courage to go back out, to face those people long enough to get to the door and go home. Trying not to cry.

When the door opened again.

And that same sad, understanding look. She pulled Jordan in after her...

Fear and Loathing..

She dragged me through the throng, not explaining, not listening. Head down, not thinking about it, one foot in front of the other, as if she didn't want to stop and think about what she was doing. She dragged me up the rickety stairs and into one of the small bedrooms, pulled me inside, turned around an shut the door behind her. Leaning on it. Shoulders bent, as if afraid to turn around and look at me.

I didn't know what to do.
Didn't know what she wanted.

The seconds ticked by. Then minutes. I don't know how long we stood there like that before I finally broke the silence. I started to ask what was the matter, and she cut me off.

"Hypnotize me.."

That's all she said. Just those two words.

I was stunned to say the least.

Another endless expanse of time went by before I managed to frame words.. which weren't quite as eloquent as I might have wanted, and probably consisted of something like "huh? wha? why?" which hardly mattered anyway as she interrupted me again, spinning around to stare at me with those big blue eyes, stuttering, sounding like tears were mere moments away. "Don't.. Don't.. Just.. Just do it. Please.. Ask me later"

I didn't know what to do. She was in no mood to hear any explanations or questions.. I just.. Nodded, not really sure how I was going to manage it with her so anxious. But I nodded, and gestured for her to sit down on the bed.

I laid her back, marvelling at how anxious she seemed, at how she was almost shaking. And started talking, calmly. Well, as calmly as I could with this gorgeous girl alone with me in a room, practically begging for me to delve into her mind.

It took.. well.. I don't really know how long, talking to her softly in the dark. But I finally managed to get her to calm down, to get her breathing to slow, and her eyes to close, as i listened to her relaxing.

After so terribly long.. What felt like an eternity.. I managed to get up the courage to ask. To ask her why she wanted me to hypnotize her here, alone, away from the others, away from her boyfriend.

Her brow furrowed, she shifted uncomfortably, mumbled something under her breath. It was obvious how uncomfortable she found the topic.. So we kept going.. Taking her deeper and deeper, relaxing her, reassuring her, reminding her how safe it was to talk to me, how good it felt to lighten her burden. Until finally she started to explain.

She couldn't respond properly to her boyfriend. She told me.
She wanted to go down on him, to return the favor, but she couldn't.
And she wanted me to help her.

Wasn't that wonderful. A hypnotized, helpless, amazingly hot girl at my fingertips.. And she wanted me to teach her how to give a blow job.

Story of my life.

We went over what the problem was, she explained how the sex was great, and how much she loved him, but that she just couldn't get into oral. Didn't find it sexy, the giving it at least. And how badly she wished that she did, so that she could return the favor.

I asked her what she wanted to do about it. And she told me that she wanted a trigger, like she had seen me give outside. That would make her want it. A trigger that she could give to her boyfriend.

I told her how I thought it was a bad idea, how he might abuse something like that.. But she was sure. She insisted. She was adamant.

So I sighed. A tear in my eye now. Remembering back at how poorly this path had gone for me. Hating myself for getting into this, for how badly I wished she had said something else, despite her boyfriend. And got to work.

It gets difficult

You may wonder why I haven't posted in a while. Or may not. There's life getting in the way and all the usual excuses. But also, it gets difficult when you are writing about your life, to know what to leave in and what to leave out.

I've started and stopped this post a dozen times, not sure how to go about it. But I suppose I have to just bite the bullet some time.

Part of the difficulty, is I tend to focus on what I felt, on what I thought, and gloss over what actually happened. But were coming up on things that.. Well I wasn't thinking much, and what I was feeling wasn't all that pleasant. And what happened is far more important. So it's a bit of a stretch for me to write it in a way that still.. feels like me..

It's also difficult for me to remember the fake names I have given everyone. And I continually need to double check to make sure I haven't let a real one slip in here or there, or gotten confused and swapped them about or something.

In any case, the night went on after that. I sort of.. came to my senses a bit after that moment of insanity. The show went on, in a less provocative way. I was a bit scared to let it continue the way it had been going. There were a lot of drunk people around, and I didn't want anyone to regret anything in the morning.

In any case it hardly matters. The show went on, and ended, and everyone laughed and went about their night. A few blushed. A few said they were just playing along. A few told me they loved it, a few didn't want to talk about it. It was an anti climatic ending. Which was fine, since the climax had been in the middle *rim shot*

What.. I can make jokes. Why can't I make joke? Fine.. Fine.. back to the sex and mind control.

What was sort of scary for me though, was the way the people I knew from the volunteers just melted away, none of them meeting my eyes. I was worried about being judged, I'll admit. I put far too much stock in what those people thought of me.

I was isolated all of a sudden. Surrounded by people I didn't know. Fixed with odd looks wherever I went. People enjoyed the show while it was on, but now no one knew what to say.

I wandered a bit. I walked around, not knowing anyone, who to talk to, how to break the ice. I tried once or twice with some lame joke, but people just sort of looked nervous and moved away.

Finally, I got fed up, and grabbed my coat to go to leave.

What happened next still haunts my dreams, my fantasies, my nightmares.

Kailen stopped me at the door.

I could see her face, this... resolve..
This.. determination..
This.. Terror..

She swallowed whatever fear was holding her, grabbed my arm, and just said "Come with me"

And I went

A short break to share something

Ghosthostblue asked a question of the forums a while ago.. And I delayed and hedged in my response.  I finally tried to put my thoughts together, and sum them up as best I could.  And I thought I might share it with you.

Here's the question, if you haven't read it.

"You've begun to picture an md story where absolutely anything can be done to/with any woman, but for now will only be done to/with one woman, the female protagonist. Alter her body, alter her personality, alter her proclivities, make her struggle against the tide or fall right into it, bliss her out, torture her with the changes, make her bi or gay, make her brilliant or idiotic, blatantly whorish or more crafty in lovemaking, give her special abilities or more realistic ones, change her slowly and almost imperceptibly or change her in sudden flashes... Anything.

What's it going to be for you as a writer? What do you hope for as a reader? Like, time to create a super bimbo or something else? Want to keep your playground slow and subtle, make it wham-bamish, make it tighter and more plausible, go for the sudden wow factor?

Added layer of possibility/complexity: It's her repressed desires and buried adolescent fantasies being unleashed. What happens could be what some part of her secretly wishes would happen to herself."

I still find this terribly difficult to answer. But as a well phrased open ended question it does deserve one.

What do I hope for as a reader?  Or rather.. What do I hope for as a character?  My own proclivities, my own desires terribly corrupt what I might consider as a writer.

I suppose what I would find the hottest, is a slow, subtle shift.. One that the woman can feel, can see happening.  Letting her look inward and see the changes as they occur.

A woman who enjoys the feeling, revels in it.  And indeed might join in the fun, provoking ideas and things to do to those around them.  I would see them as a pair of lovers, one who happened to have perfect control over the other.  Exercised in such a way as to leave her feeling totally controlled, altered, a plaything.  While retaining enough of her thoughts to see it happen, feel it happen, and join in the fun.

I like the idea of the woman being still able to surprise her master, her controller.  Having enough free will to titillate.. So that despite all the women around him he could control, he really prefers her.  The others he might use and change to punish or debase, but his desire is reserved for her.

I'm reminded of the stories Surrounding A Brief Career, what did he call himself?  The Retaliator?
Or what was it.. Did you hear the one about the blonde?

There is also the idea of a distant control, unknown.  For that reason the magic thunder story, the first one, is probably one of my all time favorites.  She is changing, she can feel it, she is running, but so aroused by it at the same time.  All while fighting it, she herself is gaining power, but still controlled by this mysterious external force.

Important for me is always that the woman enjoy it.  Overtly or secretly.  She must find the experience pleasurable.  I have no patience of stomach for pain.  But that said, the fight, the struggle.  So delectable.  She might beg for it to stop, while secretly feeling she deserves it, or wants it, or simply.. Needs it..

I hope you find my response of interest..

The Heat and Fury

I stood as Lisa did, all of a sudden hesitant.  I had done what I meant to do, but now was unsure.  What would happen, what would the reaction be?

As it happened, I had no cause for worry.  Lisa blinked as if trying to clear the fog from her eyes, and found them focused on the girl before her.  I heard her breath catch in her throat, beholding such a vision.  I watched her take a staggering step, then another, placing herself before the object of her desires.

She shuddered, reaching out to brush the hair from Kim's face.  As the poor girl looked as if she was about to faint, or flee, from that approaching apparition of her suppressed sexuality.  The whole room held it's breath.  As if any noise might disturb the spell.

Slowly, so slowly, as if afraid she might break the delicate goddess before her.  Lisa leaned in, and gently, oh so gently, brushed her lips in a shuddering kiss.

And with that the dam was broken.  The two pulled together tighter and tighter, mouths seeking, licking, kissing, sucking.  The air filled with moans, groans, passion and lust as I heard a silence shattering catcall break out from the crowd.  Lisa's hands slid up the shirt of the object of her fixation to cup the soft mounds beneath the cloth, and as she did a shuddering gasp went through the both of them, some deep taboo broken, some hidden desire unlocked, as Kim's hands came up to grip the wrists of the slender lust filled fanatic.  Not to restrain, but encourage.

Within moments there was flesh.  Clothes shoved aside, buckles unfastened, skin exposed, nipples thrust into the chill night air as Lisa slid to her knees, kissing trail down Kim's quaking flesh to fumble with her belt buckle.

Shaken from my own fascination I stopped her.  With a word that frenzy of lust, that depraved slide into near public fornication was halted.  And Lisa froze in slumped to the floor.

Kim took a moment to notice, took a moment to notice that her partner had arrested her advances.  A moment to realize that it was over.  A moment to realize that her lust, that had finally been released, was about to go unsatisfied.

Her eyes went to me, and her mouth opened, I could see her thoughts, See her about to beg me, beg me to give it back to her.  Beg me to let her feel what she needed, was meant, to feel.  But before the poor girl could spill her heart to the world, I stopped her too.  With sadness, with peace, I pinned her with my eyes, and with a glance informed her that there were more eyes on her than mine.

She came back to herself then, realized the state of her clothing.  And with a last sad look back she adjusted herself, and retreated back into the crowd.  As I returned my attention to the girl on the floor, I lost sight of her.  But I was told later, that she disappeared for the better part of an hour, to a bedroom upstairs, before anyone saw her again.

I helped Lisa back to her feet, and returned her to her chair.  But now the taboo was broken.  More people were calling out more ideas.  The mood was once again charged with arousal, with lust.  A few couples disappeared off into the recesses of the cabin, and the ideas started pouring in.

Make them orgasm.  Make them strip.  Make them Fuck!  The ideas just became darker and dirtier, the more the calls rang out.  But at that time, my morals were still more or less intact, and I didn't give any serious credence to going along with most of those suggestions.

But I was not completely immune.  I was breathing hard.. As hard as poor Kim as she had staggered off to god knows where.  And really all I wanted to do was pull Daniel off into some dark corner and abuse my control in every way I could imagine.  But there was still an audience.  And still a crowd of docile little puppets who had trusted me with their evenings.  And I really didn't want to give up that feeling yet.  That feeling of control, that feeling of power.  Of all these people hanging on my whim.

It was intoxicating.

I was drunk on the attention.  And more aroused than I had been in years.  So I did something naughty.

I gave them pleasure.

I started to talk, started to let my words lead my way, stopped thinking, started feeling, and led them down a terribly tempting path.  I spoke softly at first, descriptively, letting them feel the concepts and sensations that I longed to feel.  I spoke gently, guiding them, leading them, letting them feel that pulse deep within themselves.  I spoke eagerly, pulling them onwards to that promise of pleasure off in the distance, listening to their voices start to mewl, start to groan, as they started to shift in their chairs.

I talked, and talked, and led them, pulled them, dragged them, stroked them with my words.  Watched them buck, watched them groan under my expressions, my similes, my metaphors.  I felt my own body ache, as they felt what I longed to feel.  I watched hands caress cock stiffening within denim confines.  I watched fingers tease over slits covered by fabric.  I watched hips buck, hands grope, breasts heave.

I spoke.

And they answered.

Not with words, but with passion.  Animilistic grunts.  Mouths gaping, licking, sucking on air.  Gasping and groaning.  As my voice rose in passion so did theirs, the tempo accelerated, the air vibrated with lust, with need, with gutteral groans.

I felt like i was conducting a symphony, of lust, of need.  My voice rose to a crescendo, and I let them rise with me.  Every twitch, every gasp, echoing in my head as she screamed and moaned and came for me, fell for me, tumbled into ecstasy for me.  For my words.  For my voice.

And I fell with them.

Left Turn

I looked around my ring.  My little kingdom of willing supplicants, and considered my options.  There was Kailen of course, but glance to her boyfriend showed hesitation and a bit of worry.  So I moved on to the other girls.  There were a few.  But in the end I didn't know any of them.  And in those days I was a bit more hesitant to play with others heads without their consent.  And I wasn't yet far gone enough to violate those tentative morals.

I looked out over the audience, and caught the eye of a pretty young thing who was watching eagerly, excitedly.  Kim I think.  She was a bit of a larger girl, but with well placed curves.  She wouldn't be posing for any men's magazines any time soon, but had those assets that men tend to go for.

To be perfectly blunt, she was overweight, but had Huge tits.

Yes I mean tits, when they are that big, breasts doesn't cover it.

I gestured her forward, and she walked into my ring with a nervous anxiety.  As if stepping into that hallowed ground was some sort of violation.  As if the middle of that ring that been transformed from shack by a lake, to holy sanctuary of some long forgotten god of lust and sleep.

I asked if she liked girls.  And apparently such bluntness was unexpected, or she hadn't admitted it, or at least not to this crowd.  Because she started rather suddenly, and her eyes darted left and right as if waiting for her parents to leap out and condemn her to a life of convents and nunneries.  I smiled and told her it was alright if she did, or didn't, I just wanted to be sure she wouldn't mind what I was about to do.

I watched her eyes widen at those words.  What I was about to do.  As if her imagination had seized on something, and was running with it.  She froze.  Like a deer on a highway, staring into my eyes.  Unable to move, unable to answer.  She couldn't say yes, too afraid to admit it.  She couldn't say no, and miss out on her chance, this chance, whatever it might be.

I smiled, and whispered it was ok.  Thanked her gently for being so kind as to play along, letting the crowd hear, and watched her nervousness settle, as the excitement started to take it's place.  I stood her before Lisa in the circle, and knelt beside the sleeping waif.  Whispering in her ear, just loudly enough for Kim to hear, but too quiet for those watching from the audience to make out what naughty things I might be saying.  Leaving it up to their fertile imaginations.

I watched Kim begin to shake, with excitement, with fear, I don't know.  And I watched the audience lean in.  Eager to catch some glimmer, some hint of what I might be saying, as I spoke my intent to that slender girl who had so recently earned my disdain.

I spoke gently, watching her eyes open to stare at the girl before her.  I spoke softly, not wanting to disturb the beauty she was suddenly aware of.  I spoke firmly, weaving my circle around her thrice, guiding her thoughts where I wanted them to go.

I heard her breathing quicken, felt her pulse pick up.  Watched her eyes flutter up to the face of the goddess before her, down to the soft mounds of her chest, the delta of her thighs.  Heard her sigh in bliss and want, watched her hands clench of unclench at her sides.  I spoke more rapidly, picking up her excitement, her need as I looked about the room.  Saw Lisa's boyfriend staring back at me with a smirk, saw Kim's eyes fixed on the quivering girl before her, saw the staring heat of a room enthralled by what was about to happen.

I spoke her lust, I spoke her dreams, I spoke her darkest most unfulfilled desires, and then I spoke one word, and set her loose.

Hesitant Steps

I was standing in the middle of a ring.

Unofficial though it may be, no one had dared come near.  The volunteers in an arc in front, and the audience in an arc in back.  Unsure where to begin I helped each of those who had slumped forward in the audience to their feet, and walked them to the front row.  Those who were sitting there fled my approach, before I needed to say a word, make a gesture, anything.  All of a sudden they couldn't wait to see to my needs, out of fear, submission, awe, I don't know.

Soon I was alone, standing in a ring of people hanging off my every word.  People who couldn't help but take them in as gospel, couldn't help listen, and be influenced by my merest whim.

It was exhilarating.

People who know of my kink have often asked why I don't make a career of it.  Why I don't put on shows, or offer therapy, or get licensed.

That night is my answer.

I know full well that I couldn't handle it.  Couldn't handle that feeling without giving in to temptation.  This is meant to forever be recreation for me.  As a professional I would violate whatever paper ethics I might establish within a week, and be thrown out in disgrace in no time at all.

I stood, and suddenly felt unsure.  I hadn't planned for this, hadn't expected it.  The air was so charged, so electric.  I could Smell the sex in the air.  But I couldn't delve into those depths right away.  What if the subjects balked?  I was so.. Hesitant.  All of a sudden I couldn't decide what to do.

So I decided to go with some classic tropes.  Things I had seen, had heard of.  It was hardly what the audience was expecting at that point, but I couldn't give them what they wanted.  Not yet.

A boy grew cold, shivering as a girl grew hot, shedding a sweater to cheers.  A boy danced to some background music as a terrible hip hop star as a girl ground and bobbed as Brittany Spears.  We went through some ridiculous suggestions, miscounted fingers, silliness and fun.  Shying away from that feeling that had filled the room a half hour before.  But people were having fun, enjoying themselves, and that was enough.

The mood changed when Kailen got up to sing.

I can't recall exactly what the suggestion was.  But she was performing for some reason, and stood to belt out some song or another.  The room was laughing before she started, as she had followed some terrible performances.  But I saw an odd look from her boyfriend, as if he was laughing at me instead.  I didn't understand until she opened her mouth.

I said before that I can sing.  It's true, I can.  I have quite a good voice, though I don't perform all that well.  But Kailen.  I still don't know how she didn't end up a professional.  She sung something a little cheesy, some Disney song I think.  But from her lips it didn't sound that way.  It sounded.. deep.. moving.. And not a little bit, Hot.  Her face lit up as she sang, she glowed.

It was a beautiful moment.

And as she finished and sat down, the spell was broken.  We had listened to the whole song, without realizing it, and now it was over.  The laughter was gone, the music was gone.  And the room stood silent again.

Once again I was at a loss.  I hesitated.

And someone called out something that rather turned the direction of the evening.  "Make them strip!"

It was terrible, cliched, and terribly sexist.

But it sparked more than a few imaginations.

Suddenly there were more ideas, more suggested.. suggestions.  And all were sexual.  It was as if the flood gates had been opened and everyone's imaginations were running wild.  I fought them off for a short time, until Lisa's boyfriend pulled me over and whispered in my ear.

He told me to have her make out with a girl.. That she wouldn't mind, and neither would he.  And well, while my conscience had held me back from all those other ideas.  I have to say, when it came to her?  I didn't really care.

I grinned at him, and stepped back into my ring.

A First Time Induction

I started a bit hesitantly.  Half remembered bits of inductions read years ago.  Filling in the gaps with whatever felt right at the time, trying to keep the words flowing and even.  I sort of.. let my mind go blank as my mouth rattled through imagery, feelings, sounds, hitting on each sense as talking, always talking I circled and spun my words about those people before me.

I started gaining confidence as I went, as the expressions faded from mocking grins, to bored stares, to blank vacancy, to half lidded distraction.  They stopped waiting to laugh, and started listening.  Stopped listening and started waiting for it to work.  Stopped waiting for it to work and started just simply.. Being..

As I spoke I watched one by one as their heads slumped forward.  Chins pulled down to their chests.  Backs slumping, posture settling.  I watched them relax, as I had once relaxed.  Watched them let down their guards and follow my words.

When the last of their eyes closed I let my own wander.  I spoke softly and firmly, guiding them deeper and deeper, and I looked around at my audience.

A few heads had slumped..  A few had wandered off bored.  But most.. Most were staring in wrapt fascination at those slumped forms before me.  I took in those wide eyed stares, that rapid breathing.. Those.. Strained jean fronts.  And I realized that these  people found this as erotic as I did.  Perhaps it was the difference of my voice, my methods, my own throbbing arousal that made this different from some comedy stage show in a lounge act, I'm not sure.  But the air just.. Pulsed.. With sexual tension.

I grinned to myself, guiding them deeper, but no one noticed.  No one saw me, no one was looking at me.  They only had eyes for those souls slumped before me, those few brave people who had volunteered, having no idea they were about to become such a focus of lust for the rest of the room.

I stood.. Shaky on my own legs, nervous, needy.. And went around to each of them in turn.  I stood before them, and my words leading slowly woke them each in turn.  Letting them stare into my eyes, letting them fall deeper and deeper, letting their world fade to only me as I talked them down, down, falling, sinking into my eyes.  With each surrender, my own arousal grew.  With each surrender, the excitement in the room grew.  And with each surrender, my hold over them grew.

And when I got to those few, those special few that I remember still, I admit it was different.  I watched Kailen's eyes dim with a smile.  I gently held her cheek as she slumped, softly, grinning to her chest.  Feeling protective, loving, caring.  Like a wise owner of a perfect little toy.  Daniel's eyes looked up into mine, blankly, obedient.  But I saw a spark of lust, of realization, perhaps because I wanted to.  But when I got to Lisa.  I felt only triumph.  As her eyes closed my mind was already running ahead.  Filled with revenge, with torment, with lust..

And the night was just beginning.

Finding a Voice

Did you ever listen to yourself on a recording?  I know this is a common observation, but it's always strange to hear how you sound to everyone else.  Everyone hates how they sound in a recording, it's practically a given.

What I never understood then, is why people always tell me they love my voice.  I can sing, I know.. But when I listen to myself, I always think I sound awkward.  But somehow everyone else seems to love it.  I can tell you I suppose that even without hypnosis I've driven people wild just whispering in their ear.  I get no small thrill out of doing that, let me tell you.

I say this to try and explain where I'm coming from, since otherwise this next bit might sound.. Strange.  There is very little "special" about me.

I'm not hot.. Never have been, likely never will be.  Though on occasion here I may allude to my gorgeousness, you can be sure that the passage in question is one of those fictional bits I mentioned would come up.  I'm pretty enough, not unattractive certainly, but just one of those who blends into the background and often escapes notice.

I'm smart, certainly.  But not so smart that I'm really among those gifted few.  Just smart enough to know how dumb I am.  For those of you cursed with the same degree of intelligence as I, you know what I mean.

That said, I think everyone has something special about them, that sets them apart from the crowd.  In my case those things are a bit more subtle than with others.  Sometimes I admit I wish that my noticeable qualities were a bit larger, protruding, and more obvious if you get my drift (yes I'm saying I wish my tits were bigger, so sue me).  But in my case you might not even see them at all, not unless you stop and talk to me, and even then not unless you get to know me far more intimately.

There are three, I think.  You can write this off as vanity, and quite possibly it is.  But these are things told to me over and over by people over the years, and not things I picked out about myself (if they were I would have gone with my smile, how cheesy is that?)

Firstly, and least known I think, at least to those who know me in my regular life, is my mind.  No I don't mean my intelligence.  I mean that I tend to think differently from most.  My job is making intuitive leaps and finding solutions to issues, and while I hate it, I am actually quite good at it.  I understand the larger picture, but can't stand details.  And while I wish I could shut it off, I tend to see things about people too.

I wish I didn't.. But far too often, I can look at a person, or talk to them for a few minutes, and know so well what makes them tick.. What makes them.. drip.. Yes I'm saying I have a talent for reading peoples fetishes.  I can see it, behind the empty words and fake smiles.  I can see those dark thoughts that twist their minds down pathways they wish they wouldn't go.  And I'm quite good at using it.

I excel at putting up those facades myself.  In acting, speaking, exuding the role of ways of thought that run entirely counter to my own.  Which is strange, because I rarely do it.

I don't spend my life false facing.  I am quite honest about almost everything, almost all the time.  I just avoid details I'd rather not discuss.  So it's rare that a person really sees.. Just how different I can be.

The second is my eyes.  I know, cheesy again right?  I don't mean in the typical pretty blue eyes sort of way.  And the only people who have really told me that I have great eyes are those I've hypnotized.  No I didn't tell them to think that.

As described by them, I apparently have.. Intense.. Eyes.  Deep eyes.. I don't do, whatever it is I do consciously, but somehow it comes out.  Somehow.. watching their eyes fog, fade, close.. Must bring it out of me.  Again something you wouldn't notice unless you got to know me, very, very well.

The third.. As you may have guessed, is my voice.  I don't claim to understand what it is about my voice that people like.  But I have always had some way.  Some way of framing words, some way of describing sentences, some way of placing just the right emphasis.. That has people hanging off every word I say.

It doesn't come across in public speaking, nor in lectures or conversations.  But when I have someones attention, when I'm passionate about what it is I'm talking about.. People just can't seem to stop listening.  I can talk about science, politics, books, tv, or just what happened that day.  And people just never seem to think to interrupt, to ask a question, or indeed look away.

And I must admit.. I get quite a rush out of that, too.

I feel foolish for spending so much time talking about myself.  Especially where I left off my story.  But as I was writing it I realized that it might sound strange, if I didn't explain where I was coming from.  So my apologies for the delay.  I'll get right back to it.

Friendly Persuasion

I can't say I remember everything perfectly.  It has after all been many years.  And the night was already a bit of a blur to begin with..  But what I do remember is deciding that if she wanted people to see what I was into, then I'd give her what she wanted.

She got the group going, and while usually not such a sucker for peer pressure, in this case I suppose I didn't really want to fight.  Let them think they were manipulating me into it.  Let them think I was going with the crowd.  In the end, they'd understand.

A few people volunteered, and I got the crowd to taunt Lisa for not stepping up herself, after instigating this little escapade, so before long, I had a few people sitting before me nervous, anxious, and a quiet crowd hanging on my words behind me.

I don't remember all of the volunteers, but a few do stand out in my mind.  As you might guess, I've changed all the names to protect the guilty, though the descriptions are accurate. 

Lisa, a willowy brunette with wide eyes, a wide mouth, and a condescending gaze.  I think at the time she had it died red, though that may have been a few years later.  She's never been curvy in the least, not generally my type, but she wasn't bony, and was pretty enough if you like that in a girl.

Daniel, who's the only male volunteer that I remember.. Probably because I had a bit of a crush on him.  He used to date Lisa, a while before this occurred, but she dumped him for another friend of ours.  I did mention that I didn't much like her right?  In any case, Daniel was sort of an odd duck.  Ginger, freckled.. quite smart, but made terrible decisions.  Easily lead.. He went from one serious relationship to another, often with girls he didn't even like, because he was just too nice to break up with them.  Women walked all over him, but somehow he was still a womanizer..  I know, it makes no sense to me either.  In recent years he had been working labour jobs, and the time outdoors had given him such heavy freckles around his chest and shoulders it looked almost like a tan.  And the time at physical labour and given a well defined body.. a rare thing among the boys I was around..

Enough about him.. The third volunteer I remember..  She was special.. I had a hell of a crush on her as well.  I think everyone who met her did.  We can call her.. Kailen.  She was, and is, beautiful, as well as a kind hearted and generally sweet person.  As I try and describe her I find that nothing really stands out as the reason.. the cause of what made her so striking.. It was just, how everything fit together.  She was average height, long sandy brown hair, with clear brown eyes.  She had clear skin, perfect skin actually, and a soft kind face.  I think everyone who knew her was just a little bit in love with her..  And as it happened, she also had a fabulous singing voice.  She's married now.. With a beautiful baby boy who I've never met, and I wish her much happiness.

There were others.. Friends of Kailen's, of Daniel's.. People who I had never seen before and never have since, people who's faces and names are a complete blank to me, but these 3 were the ones I knew, the ones I cared about, and the ones I remember still.

I was hesitant, shy at first, with such an audience.. Especially with such a buildup.  If I couldn't manage anything, it wouldn't be much of a show, and I'll admit I was quite worried about making an ass of myself.  It had been a while after all, since I had tried to hypnotize anyone, and in fact I hadn't had much luck then.  But I had been hypnotized, many times, and I thought maybe I understood better now, and more, I understood these people..  Knew what made them tick..

So I started to talk...

Temptation Rears

So.. I wonder how many people suffered through my little bout of introspection.

Yes that was my evil plan, lure you in with stories on sexual exploits and hypnotic rapture, then make you listen to me whine about my issues.

Well I suppose it's only fair that if you are still paying any attention, I tell you a story that might be a little more interesting to people other than myself.

You might have wondered, reading what I've posted so far, how i got from Adam, to where I am now.  How I got from not wanting to touch hypnosis any further, to my current mess.

Well it's fairly complicated, and also very simple.  Temptation..  It starts back when I was still with Adam, and feeling very confused, and caught up in the whole thing.  I told one of my "friends" at the time about it, or some of it at least.  I put friend in quotes because frankly, I don't think she's actually capable of being anyone's friend.  But that's besides the point.  Lisa, my friend, was a bit out there herself, on the scale of sexual normalicy.

I'm not privy to all the details of what went on, but I know she wore a collar constantly, and her boyfriend and her were into some D&S things.. I caught her calling him master in public when they thought I couldn't hear on more than one occasion.  She also had  tendency to make out with the nearest thing with tits whenever she got drunk.  What exactly that says about her preferences I'll leave up to you to decide..

In any case the point is that Lisa was aware of my little.. Kink.  And wasn't a shy person about her own, or really anyone else's sexual habits.

All these things came together to make one hell of a temptation for me, one night not that long after Adam and I broke up.

A mutual friend had invited both of us, as well as many others, to a cabin her family owned a few hours into the interior.  When I say cabin, I mean house barely held together with plywood, sitting on the shore of a lake.  More of a run down summer house than a cabin really, as it certainly wasn't isolated, with several neighbors within 50 feet or so.

In any case..  In that place, surrounded by strangers and friends, Lisa decided to speak up and inform everyone of my fetish..  And drunk 20 year olds being drunk 20 year olds, I was quickly roped into trying to put on a show for them..

And looking into Lisa's eyes.. those wide taunting eyes, that had just betrayed my trust to all these people.. I found, I didn't really want to fight, That hard..