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..

Established Patterns

I seem to have fallen into a rather strange routine, when dealing with new sexual partners.

I'm not sure exactly why, though I do have some theories.

That's sort of my curse..  Self analyzing, self obsessing, over analyzing to the point of ridiculousness.  I don't mean to say that I am self involved, or vain, or anything like that.  Though I am a bit vain, it's true.

I mean that I can't stop analyzing the reasons I do things.  I suppose it stems from a pathological fear of insanity.  Or more than that, a fear of waking up in some institution where anything I say is dismissed as meaningless ranting.  Unable to make myself heard, unable to get out, just stuck.

I also have quite a fear of being restrained, which I imagine is related.

But I digress, as usual.

You see.. I meet a new person, and after the initial getting to know you.  I tend to break the news about my little fetish sooner rather than later.  This, tends towards curiosity in the part of the person I'm meeting, and eventually turns to wanting to give it a try.

This isn't of course, the case every time, but if it isn't, it's safe to assume we're not compatible anyway and I tend to move on before we get much farther.

Anyway.. One thing leads to another, and eventually I end up breathing heavily trying not to squirm while they lay slumped in an easy chair mumbling responses back to me in an oh so delightful entranced mutter as I guide them deeper, trying to find out more about them..

Once I calm down a bit.. we play a few harmless games, seeing how suggestible they are, you get the idea I'm sure.  We probably try a few more risque things as well, which I shall leave to your imagination as they aren't really relevant to the conversation.

But eventually, perhaps after a few attempts, my pattern gets a little.. well you might call it strange.

Eventually, I decide to guide them into thinking that I am the one that was hypnotized.  And beyond that, I tend to let them think that their suggestions won't be resisted in the least, that they have far more control over me than I did of them.

So right now you might be asking.. Why would she do that?

Well there's where I'm not exactly sure...  But I'll tell you my theories.

First.. I am a switch.

Now I'm not entirely sure I use that term "correctly"  since so many things involved in being a sub would tend to have me just stand up and slap my partner if they tried them.  But in this case.. I can't help but be terribly aroused at the thought of being.. helpless.. to someone's will.  Of being changed, to meet their desires.  My personality, body, anything, changed for their pleasure...  *shivers*

That said, I am a terribly cautious person in many ways.  Perhaps because of how things went the first time around, perhaps because of other things..  But in this thing at least, I am wary of giving someone I don't know well such a level of control over me.

Also, I don't want it to end up a permanent thing.. It's not that I want it all to be on my terms when I want.  I love the idea of being surprised, taken against my will, molded.. *shivers*
But the thought of never quite getting back to myself, rather terrifies me.

On another level, I want to see what they are like with the gloves off..

When they think I can't fight back.  Don't see, won't remember, have no control over what they do and say.  I want to know who they are inside.

People treat you differently when they think you won't remember..

They may be caring, or callous.  Treat you like a beloved pet, or small child, or perhaps as a thing to be abused and punished, beneath notice or caring..  Some people just don't have it in them..  They can't be in control, and just ask what you want, try and think of a few things to do, and end it as soon as possible.  Others love it, understand, and try to be imaginative and evocative.. Playing delightful games...

Others still of course, take things to a dark place in a hurry...  The man who tried to pimp me out to his friends is of course a good example.

The twisted thing is.. I might have even enjoyed that.  If I had known them, and him.. If it were a part of something, larger.. if that makes any sense..  But his callous disregard, his simple exploitative abuse of the concept.. Suffice to say that didn't last long, and I gave him a few things to remember me by.

I suppose it mostly goes back to these fantasies.. This need to .. be used, controlled, changed.. And my shame for feeling that way.

But the pattern doesn't really stop there.. You see.. the more I play with them, and have them play with me.. The more I tend to feel guilty, ashamed, afraid.. So I tend towards making them angry.

I lash out rudely while they think they can control me.  I might behave poorly, or do something simply to make them angry.  Or sometimes even just re-enforce the concept with them, making them more and more upset with me, want more and more to punish me.. To .. get even.. for some real or imagined slight.

I want to see what they will do.. But also, I think that maybe I just feel like I deserve to be punished..

It never lasts.  As much as I might think I deserve to be punished, my nature won't let me sit back and take it for too long, and I eventually get a bit even myself.  Maybe push a few boundaries they don't really want to push.  Maybe do something to really earn their anger, and not just the suggestion of it..  The cycle escalates, with our games getting darker, more perverse, driving each other well past what we might have considered within our range of acceptable just a short while before..

But always eventually I drive them away.. Sometimes accidentally, sometimes on purpose when things get too out of hand and they start to damage the rest of my life...

But eventually I force them away..  And I start all over.

What Next?

I've thought for some time, about what to talk about next.

Except it's not really what to talk about.  It's what to tell you.  There is no conversation in a medium like this.  I just get to sit back and decide your experience, your understanding of my situation.

In some sense that gives me a great deal of power.  Over your perception, over your belief.  But in another.. It makes me helpless.  If I am misunderstood, I won't ever know.  If I'm not even heard, how can I tell?  I can pour out my heart, and I'm still at the mercy of all those who read.  All those who come to read, come to see, come to judge...

So why do I do it?

I decided that's what I should tell you.

To explain why I'm doing this.  Or attempt to at least, and maybe understand a little better myself.


I told you about my early experiences with hypnosis.  And now I'll tell you about one part of my current reality.

Some of you know, that I run a store in Second Life.  Some of you who know me there, know that I pulled back from that enterprise some time ago.  And some of you who know me from the various boards and things around the internet know, that I first started getting involved there only recently.  And those who know me only from here?  Well you can clearly see that this blog is a rather new construct in my world.

So why the migration?  Why the shift?

Well.. I'll tell you.


I can't stop.


I really can't.. I've tried.  Sometimes I wonder if I should get some help.  If this is what addiction feels like..  It's not really what I imagined it to be.  I've never had much of a problem with substance abuse.  When prescribed pain meds, I don't even bother taking them, let alone get addicted.  I drink, occasionally to excess, but I'll go months without, without ever really noticing.

I imagined addiction to be something that gnaws the back of your mind.  Something always there.  Something that you struggle with constantly.

Certainly that's how I've heard it described.  You take it one day at a time right?  You wrestle with the demons inside you...

Mine are sneakier than that.

Mine don't haunt me.  Mine don't wrestle with me.  If you might forgive what is likely a terrible football metaphor.. There is no line of skirmish.  There is no battle, no fight.  My demons leave me alone, for a good length of time.  A day, a week, a month, but when they eventually strike, it's from the shadows, suddenly, powerfully..

And most of the time I don't even know they've hit me.

I pulled back from Second Life because it was sucking me in too much.  It was compromising my real life, my work, my education.  Not the game, or the escape.. But the girls...

I know they don't look like they pretend to.  I know most of them are probably boys.  But to someone interested in their minds, it hardly matters at all.  So many.. and So willing.. Wanting, BEGGING.. to be toyed with..

I just couldn't help myself...

And worse.. Seeing their submission, their ecstasy.. I wanted to feel it for myself.


When it got too intense, I pulled away.  The store still runs, but I don't visit much.  But still once in a while I end up back there, despite not meaning to.  Despite not wanting to..

It reminds me of how I felt with Adam.. All those years ago.  I didn't want it.. until I did..

For a time I did ok without it.  But I found myself wanting more of an outlet.. For that side of my personality.  For that need.  So I got more involved.  I tried writing stories, making images..

But of course, I like praise.. I like attention..  I can admit that about myself.

So I talked to people about my work, and talked more, and somehow found myself doing things I shouldn't be doing.

I always seem to end up back there.. Eventually

Finally I started writing here.  With the perhaps foolish hope that getting it out there.. This shadow that lives in me, this shadow that lives Me..

Might offer some salvation
Or at least.. Absolution

After the Fall

To say our relationship changed after that would be...  A serious understatement.

I couldn't seem to get my feet under me.  No matter where I turned or twisted, things kept getting out of hand.

I would wake up in the strangest situations.

Lose time.

Have these strange blocks of the day that just seemed to.. Fade out.

I kept meaning to say no.  Or stop.  Or anything to indicate to him that I didn't want to be doing those things right now, anything would have been enough, I was sure.. But the words just.. Wouldn't come.

I would be there, going about my business, doing whatever it was I was doing.  Homework maybe.  And he would wrap me in his arms, and I would smile at the hug.

And he would whisper in my ear.. and things would get all.. fuzzy..

His hands.. his fingers.. his lips.. And the words, always talking, and I could never..

And then things would start to get so very out of hand.


I don't mean to imply that he forced me.  He would never do something like that.  For all the other problems we had, he was really a gentle person.

I always agreed.. Eventually.

But still it seemed somehow a.. Violation.  I mean, I never intended to do the things I did.  Or say the things I did.  I didn't want to.  Until I did.


As things went on, he got bolder, and I started to lose more time, and to grow more and more concerned about what was happening.  But I still couldn't break away.  I couldn't tell him no.

There was a drive in, where I decided that the movie was terrible, and that the only logical solution was to spend the evening with my lips around his cock in the front seat on the car.  Seat belts pushed aside.  Shirt tugged up so I could feel the fabric rubbing back and forth across my breasts as I moved..  My hand buried in my panties..

I don't know what to tell you other than.. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

A lot of things did.

I for some reason started flashing him all the time.  I would be talking to him and suddenly it would occur to me that he hadn't seen my breasts in a while.  I spent an evening wandering my basement trying to find him.  I knew he had just been there, and for some reason I just kept losing pieces of clothing while I searched.

We shared a few classes.. and we would pass a sheet of paper back and forth having a quite conversation to pass the time.  It was always so romantic, and sweet.  But now it seemed.. Strange, and awkward.  He would smile at me with that arrogant, expectant look, and pass me the clipboard.  And I wouldn't be able to make out what he wrote.. But I would feel such heat.. Such lust.. Such need..

I would make an excuse to run to the girls room and.. take care of myself.  It was so embarrassing.  My legs, fingers in a frantic dance.. Biting my tongue to keep from making any noise.

But it didn't help of course.

After class got out I would drag him down to the parking garage and into his car.  He would smirk as I ripped off his pants and pulled him between my breasts.. Or between my lips.. He would just keep smirking, and whispering in my ear, asking what I wanted, what I needed.. Until I told him, and he let me have it.

I started not being able to pay attention in class.  I would lose time even there.  Sometimes, I would lose a whole day.  I don't think he was doing it on purpose.  I just, couldn't seem to keep it all straight in my head.  Time, classes, became this disjointed stream of events, with no context or relevance.


Things started to get more open, more overt, more.. Obvious.  He didn't tell anyone what we were doing, but he liked to see me react in public.  I would call him master when no one could hear.  I would suddenly find my breasts weighing a thousand pounds, pinning my to my desk.  I would do.. pretty much whatever he wanted.

But in the end, I was given my escape.

He had to move away, for a while.  And while he was gone, I started to piece together what was happening.  Things started to get clearer, and all those triggers he had set, they started to fade from my memory.

When he came back, I saw that smirk on his face again.  But I managed to cut him off.  I suppose over time, all the things he had done, all the confusion and arousal, had faded enough that I could tell him no.  So I did.

I could see that he was hurt.  He thought that he had been doing what I wanted, what we both wanted.  But I told him no, and I sent him away.

We drifted apart, still friends, but not close.

I didn't want to get too near him again.  I was afraid for what I might lose.

It was.. quite a while before I thought of playing with hypnosis again.