Cleopatra, London Erotic Hypnosis Blog

Okay, so for we Brits, the day is almost over, but am I the only one that noticed that today’s date is a lovely little bit of binary code? 110110.   Actually, technically, it may be too short to mean anything meaningful in binary language.  It just looks so beautiful, I wish I’d had more opportunity to use it.  In the good old days, before cheque books became obsolete, I would have felt all warm and fuzzy, writing the date on the cheque.  But now there is less and less reason to do so. I just have to mark it with a blog.  If I had posted it at 10.00 am, or 10.01, or 10.11, there would have been even

Did I do anything note worthy today?  Well, I had a lovely telephone chat with Madame Raison D’etre, another UK based hypnodomme.  One of her maids was pottering around in the background, Maid Charlotte, I think.  She called her over to say hello to me.  I think she introduced me as Queenie, which sounds cute.  I don’t think people get called Queenie any more.

In the not too distant future, there may be a hypnotic collaboration between Madame Raison D’etre and I.  I’m sure I’m not the only person looking forward to that.   She is very prolific so I am sure it will be some time before October 10 (101010), October 11 (111010), or November 10 (111010 or November 11 (111110).

That’s all I wanted to say. In a binary kind of way.

01100101 01110010 01101111 01110100 01101001 01100011 00100000 01101000 01111001 01110000 01101110 01101111 01110011 01101001 01110011 (Erotic Hypnosis in binary code).

Binary Code Converter for the Time Management Challenged!

Cleopatra, Queen of Erotic Hypnosis in London

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Did you hear the one about the trainee hypnotist, Helmut Kichmeier, 27, who placed himself in a deep hypnotic trance, using self hypnosis while gazing into a mirror?

His wife found him staring intently at the mirror and had to seek the advice of the trance “victims” tutor who brought him back to full awareness. He had allegedly been in trance for five hours when discovered.

And the question this will raise is the whole idea of being trapped in hypnosis.  Like if the hypnotist drops dead in the middle of the session.  I actually watched an episode of Murder She Wrote where a hypnotist got murdered in a room full of tranced subjects, who sat there, gazing impassively during the murder and were still sitting there oblivious when the police broke into the room.   They made it sound like a crisis because they could only be awakened by the person that had put them in hypnosis in the first place – who lay rigid with rigour mortis.  But they had a recording of his (it would be an mp3 if written today), and this was played for the room of subjects who came out of trance promptly on hearing his wake up call.

At some point, the body has to wake up.  I suspect that if that guy had remained in trance for five hours, it was because he wanted to be.   I’ve occasionally left subjects in trance and gone off to change outfits, or get a drink; once I even disappeared to tweet on twitter during a hypnosis session.   Once in a while, I’ve come back to find the subject bleary eyed and awake.  But most times, they are still there in trance, where I left them, because I’ve structured the suggestions that way, that the silence of my absence makes them go deeper.

Sometimes I’ll tell their subconscious mind that I leave it up to them to decide when to wake up.  They come back after a few minutes.  One guy showed no signs of stirring, he was clearly enjoying it too much.  So I had to wade back in and drag him kicking and screaming (metaphorically) back to the land of the awake.

If there had been an emergency, a house fire, or attackers breaking in and threatening Helmut’s safety, he would have come out of the trance.  This is what we are taught in hypnosis and what appears to be true.  The subconscious mind is there to protect you and places that as top priority.  Unless the desire for danger is greater than the desire for safety.

If one hour of hypnosis is eqivalent to four hours of deep sleep, then Helmut Kichmeier must have been on a mega high when he woke up.  I wonder if he’s going to be using self hypnosis in front of a mirror again, any time soon.  It won’t surprise me if he does.

Cleopatra, UK Queen of Erotic Hypnosis

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Today I received the kind of email/application/CV that arrives in my inbox from time to time.   The type from so called submissive guys convinced I’ve gone through the considerable expense of professional hypnosis training to be the best hypnotist that I can possibly be, just for my own sexual kicks.

I’ve cut and pasted what he had to say, without, of course, anything that identifies him.  No one deserves to be outed for being a self-serving delusionist.  I’m going to comment on each of his generous offers one by one.

1] All forms of body worship from your divine feet upwards to wherever you require.

My Thoughts: You don’t say!  I can see myself spending all day sprawled across luxury cushions while he wears his hypnotized tongue out to prove how well I have hypnotized him, right?  This kind of stuff happens in the movies, comics, one’s imagination and short stories written by, erm, other men, typically.   It’s always the first thing they imagine a hypnotist may do.  Or a dominatrix. Perhaps an insatiable nymphomaniac would drool at this offer.  Not me.  I’d probably be lying there, legs wide open, running spread-sheet formulas through my mind and wondering why, oh why, some men drown the surrounding beddings with saliva during cunnilingus.

2] All oral services whether massaging your clit and pussy to orgasm with my tongue or rimming for your pleasure or any other use of my tongue you may require.

My Thoughts:  At this point I should have progressed from drooling to swooning.  And we women complain that men are pigs in bed?  What a generalisation.   Well, the fact of the matter is that I have my sexual needs taken care of adequately, and then some.  Funny how men always assume that oral sex is the way to make a woman’s knees buckle.   The only response to such an offer is to roll my eyes heaven-wards.  He goes on to say:

3] My pussy arse is available for your pleasure with a strap-on. I have not been opened up for long and so still have limited capacity.

My Thoughts: Pussy arse?  Well, at least he’s helped me with my linguistic dilemma of what to call a man’s butt after feminising him!  I shall use that phrase in future, thank you very much.

But once again, a man dictating/suggesting to me that it must be pleasurable for me to stick anything up his rectal orifice.    My pleasure has never, and will never, involve inserting anything up anyone’s butt hole.  To try and convince me that I am getting anything out of it, and should be grateful, is laughable.  My g-spot isn’t buried up his arse (sometimes, I’m as clueless as the men trying to figure out where it’s buried, but that’s another blog).  So why should I get anything out of screwing it?  Besides, there wouldn’t be enough antiseptic wet wipes to disinfect my pocket watch afterwards.

4] Toilet duties as required. I am fully trained as the ladies toilet to be used directly with full cleaning services afterwards.

My Thoughts: Again, where is the pleasure in that?  I want to get out of any toilet I’m in as soon as possible after commiting my personal offences against the environment there.  And I want to clean myself properly, you know, with good old fashioned Andrex luxury quilted toilet paper, with a Kandoo wipe for that extra feel good factor.  Am I the only one that feels queazy at the thought of positioning myself in order to feel a tongue “cleaning me out”?  I can imagine the panic and revulsion if his tongue went from back passage to front passage in the process, exposing me to the risk of infections from the bacteria sensible women go to great lengths to ensure do not cross borders.  (Yes, I’m uptight, but I wouldn’t have it any other way).

These submissive guys always trumpet their toilet duties as if the’ve saved the best till last.  If people have a mutual taste (pun intended) for such activity, then why haven’t they figured out a less offensive way to attract each other?  I don’t need that kind of vulgarity in my inbox.  Each to their own, but do keep it to yourself.  Or accept that you won’t even get an acknowledgement of the email from me.  Like this guy did not.

And this is what subs do best.  They dictate to the so-called domina what will give her pleasure.  They don’t ask.  They insist, presume, assume.   Probably the earliest manifestation of topping from the bottom, where the submissive male is actually a mysoginist that enjoys playing on the intelligence of the domme and getting her to do his bidding – but pretending it’s all for her.  It’s like the man that gives his girlfriend a power drill set for Christmas. Who is the present really for?

But maybe this is really what he thinks a dominant woman wants, and he never imagined how pointless all his offers are to me.  Why offer all this to a total stranger about whom you know nothing?  If we’d bumped into each other on a scat fetish forum, then it would make sense that he was offering me his toilet duty skills.

Now maybe, well, actually, definitely,  this man would have got my attention if he’d been offering what any lady really wants.  To be pampered and spoilt with wining and dining at top restaurants.  Lots and lots of tangible gifts: Jimmy Choos; diamond rings, week-end spa breaks, and first class travel to exotic locations topping up my vitamin D with the sun-shine and showing off my bikinis although I know I can’t swim .  This guy didn’t even offer to spoil me with boxes of chocolate.  And how about deal breaker -  a standing order straight to my bank account every month?

True selfless service is giving, even when it hurts. Not passing your fantasies off through the trojan horse of suggesion as the desires of another person.  This might work on someone weak-willed.  I should be insulted that he even tried to pull this one on me. This is erotic narcissism at its best (the sub, I mean, not me, for a change!).

Cleopatra, London Queen of Erotic Hypnosis

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I’d like to start the New Year with a light hearted observation.  I’m no brain scientist, but this is based on hastily collected research, borne out of keen post trance observation. Could there be a link between how carelessly a man splashes the toilet seat and surrounds when using the lavaotory, and what kind of trance subject he is, or could be?

This is how this hypothesis came to materialise.

It was a couple of months ago and I’d just finished a session with a subject who’d given me a run for my hypnotic skills. I’d started with the pocket watch. But my arms got tired before his eyes did. And as any hypnotist knows, if one method of trance induction yields little or no results, then go for another approach.

So I opted for a script designed to bore him into a stupour and he achieved a trance of sorts. He responded to this and that, but I could tell that this guy could have gone a whole lot deeper. And for a hands free hypno orgasm, one really does have to be able to let go. The deeper I can take a subject, the more I can control them. I only had about 90 per cent control of this guy, if that. Even right up to the end. Let’s just say, his finger prints were all over the crime scene by the time he did achieve his orgasm.

Before he left, he asked if he could use the “facilities” again He’d used it on his arrival, which is always a good idea, to ensure that one can relax totally without fear of loss of bladder control. I made a note to myself to check the toilet seat for splashes after he’d gone.

I despair at the behaviour of men which makes such checks necesssary. They stand there, they urinate with negligible aim, and seem to hit everything but the bowl interior. THEN THE FOOLS WALK AWAY FROM THE MESS THEY’VE MADE.

I pointed this out to one offender once.

“Why didn’t you wipe the toilet after you were through?” I asked with disgust.

“Ah,” he defended triumphantly, “But I raised the seat.”

Such logic leaves me speechless.  Raising the seat made it okay to sprinkle piss all over the porcelain bowl instead?

Now, he, like many that have left the seat a dripping wet slip and health hazard, is a very good trance subject. I click my fingers, he’s gone. I move him around from room to room and mess with his mind in any way I can ethically and legally come up with.. He is powerless to resist. He can let go.  But he makes a mess of the toilet seat when he goes to relieve himself. And this is not during hypnosis.

And back to the protagonist of this particular erotic hypnosis blog entry, when I did check the toilet after he’d left, it was spotless. He’d used it twice, andthe  seat was spotless. He’d either taken careful aim; or wiped up after himself. And I remember thinking to myself, that makes sense: the guy’s a control freak.

Hence he couldn’t let go enough to go into as deep a trance as possible. And to test this theory, I’ve started going back in my memory sorting the subjects that go into trance easily from the resistant subjects. The data is still being collected (not literally!!!) whenever I remember to check. But so far, there’s a pattern forming, and not just the one around the toilet seat!

Does this call for a hypnotic suggestion to all male subjects that they should either aim with precision, or wipe the bowl (before they wash their hands – yes guys, you are expected to wash your hands ever after “just a piss”.  AND WITH THE SOAP MADE HANDY).

Yes, only a female hypnotist would complain about things so trivial, right?

Cleo

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