Cleopatra, London Erotic Hypnosis Blog

I would love to regress a foot fetishist one day and find out just when he or she realised that desire to submit to a pair of feet; the urge to swoon at the site of a set of toes.   The power of the foot fetish must have started somewhere.  Some have suggested it is linked to the early years of being small and in close proximity to feet.  But then, wouldn’t more of us be slaves to a beautiful foot?  Or maybe there is a subsequent sensitivising event that cements a future of devotion to sexy feet.  For now, becoming too academic about such a powerful weakness can undermine the fascination.  I shall, meanwhile exploit this weakness to the best of my hypnotic ability (until such a time as someone actually asks for help).

It is gratifying to combine the foot fetish with the hypnosis fetish.  And if the subject is new to hypnosis, like today’s guy was, great to introduce them.

“How would you like me to hypnotise you?” I asked.

He shrugged uncertainly as I picked my way through my box of tricks.

“Pocket watch?” I suggested.

“Isn’t that just a myth?” I thought he’d never ask.

“Would you like to find out?” I smiled.

It was a good journey.  He didn’t go down too easily.  In fact, he was a stubborn little bugger.  But the reputation of the pocket watch as an excellent hypnotic induction tool and not just the stuff of fiction was at stake here.  His eye lids gave one last valiant flutter as I cooed “you heavy, sleepy eyes can close now”.

He was gone.  Then deepened.  Then brought back up, with an amnesia suggestion to forget that he’d already been hypnotised by a pocket watch.  He repeated his conviction that the pocket watch was a myth, until I snapped my fingers and the memory returned in a flash.

“Have you already hypnotised me?” were his last words for a while, except to repeat after me his desire to submit to my feet, and be a good boy for me.  Or when he struggled to concentrate later on when I brought my feet out and began to rub them against each other – the post hypnotic trigger built in for this action to put him back into trance.  Talk about hypnotic feet!

My big toes were then linked to his cock.  Which ever of the toes either I or he touched, in any way, would send a similar signal directly to his cock.  When he settled down to a deep foot fetish trance, he was in blissful agony, arching over in spasms.  I had a moment of agony myself, when I forgot that one of my feet is more ticklish than the other.  I was reminded the hard way when his foot worship began in earnest and I had to retrieve the foot pretty swiftly from his eager mouth, substituting it, with a sigh of relief, with its more stable counterpart.  Then I settled down to delivering my hypnotic suggestions in a dignified monotone, rather than the erstwhile squealing giggles that almost brought him out of trance.

There are two things I never fake: orgasms and hypnosis.  In either scenario I would feel very silly and sure someone was going to catch me out.  Neither will I post staged hypnotic stunts on Youtube or any where.  Hypnosis is too good and too real to fake.  My only regret is that I don’t always have subjects willing to share how amazing their sessions are.

A comment on one of former Youtube clips accuses the subject and/or me of faking the following clip. 

This is the one where I freeze Kevin like a mannequin while he is demonstrating how to use dumb bells.   To me, and many that have watched it, one of the coolest things in the clips is how Kevin’s upper arm muscles become more pronounced as he strains to move.  Freezing was something Kevin really wanted to experience.  It made both our days when he responded so well to it.

So it’s kind of surprising that even with the bulging muscles showing up on the clip, a Youtube user (when this and my other clips were hosted on Youtube; now they’ve found a new home at DailyMotion) says they do not show any strain.

I also remember reaching out to grab the dumb-bells when I gave Kevin the sleep command.  The command seemed a good idea at the time, but in a split second, I realised he could hurt himself.  So I broke the fall of the dumb-bells by reaching out to grab them – almost sacrificing a finger nail in the process!

Kevin still writes to me and still feels incredibly turned on when he does so and when he gets my replies (laden with the triggers  I planted in him during that one session).  He had nothing to gain by pretending he had been hypnotized.   I wouldn’t understand why anyone that came to see me would pretend they had gone under.  And I’m also quite comfortable publishing any videos of my “failures” – because there is always so much to learn from failure (I believe David Elman believed passionately in this).   But then I don’t get many takers to be filmed so the odds of capturing a hypnotic blooper on camera are quite low.  But maybe when I get the incentive to go doing some instant induction street hypnosis.  I bet that gets me loads of learning material.  And I will share it.

And now for someone who did not, could not, would not fake his orgasms on camera.  I gave him a trigger in the form of a clicker.  Every time he heard the click, he got a dry orgasm, and the more he heard the clicks, the stronger the orgasms he experienced.  Then I gave him the clicker to hold himself.   This is a strange one, with the clicker.  The guys I’ve used it on have a love-hate relationships with the orgasms … after about the 10th dry orgasm, the pleasure is bordering on erotic torture.  And when you give a man a clicker, with the option to click it (after they’ve begged you not to click it any more), they always, always, can’t resist trying a click, to see if it works when they are holding it.  Well, it works a treat, they soon learn.

Now, if I could get my hands on the guy that thinks I am fake, and programme a response to my orgasmic clicker; then trigger him with dry orgasms every half an hour for three days, with no release for a full ejaculation; then when his balls ache so good (about day two) with the pressure of being constantly hard without the sweet bliss of release, maybe he’ll have enough strength to repeat to my face that he thinks I’m a fake.

The clicker was one of the things I learnt at the recent Erotic Hypnosis Workshop held by Brian David Philips at Redondo Beach, Los Angeles.  It was demonstrated live, like all the other techniques Brian taught us that day and I nursed extreme trance envy watching the volunteer respond to the clicks.  I couldn’t wait to try it on my subjects.  In fact, when I was editing the footage with Scott, someone I had previously programmed had dry orgasms every time he heard the clicker over the lap top speakers.

Scott clicked so many times on the clicker that he almost slid off the couch.  Then he broke into song: Frank Sinatra’s  Fly Me To The Moon.  Later, out of trance, he asked if he’d done any singing, and apologised for this.

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xkriks

He isn’t faking his orgasms.  And he isn’t faking his singing.  Some may find both painful, but compelling to observe.  Buy the complete version of the clip at my Clips4sale store at http://www.clips4sale.com/store/30616

It’s always fun to follow up the intensity of a hypnosis session with spontaneous triggering and spending time with the subject afterwards isn’t always possible, nor practical.  We both have lives to get on with.  But that’s why I offer the opportunity to take me out for a meal, breakfast, lunch, dinner, even shopping, so I can unleash a post hypnotic trigger when you least expect it.

If you buy one of my latest series of erotic hypnosis video recordings, entitled Scott, Strawberries and Pleasure, you’ll see towards the end, where I plant suggestions in Scott for triggers I later use on him while we’re out eating at Hooters, (Houston – Spring, TX).

Hooters as a lunch venue came up as a joke but I loved the idea.  But I gave him two post hypnotic suggestions:  one, each time he saw me running my tongue along the edge of my glass, he’d feel a tongue rimming him (the genteel practice of running a tongue gently, and sometimes not so gently, along the contoured ridges of an anus).  Second, each time he saw me licking any kind of sauce of a knife, or sliding the knife in and out of my mouth, he’d feel … well, do I really need to draw you a diagram?

Later, when I realised the Hooter’s restaurant provided knives with sharp serrated edges, I came to regret that suggestion!

I compounded these two triggers by saying that he’d be especially turned on by all the busty waitresses at Hooters.  And the arousal now would be so unbearable that he’d just have to go and excuse himself to go to the bathroom to do relieve himself.

If he’s reading this, he will understand, now, why he couldn’t sit still that afternoon at Hooters; why he kept on pointing out the waitresses to me with his tongue hanging out as he drooled over their assets; and why he made two visits to the rest-room in less than an hour.  On the way back home, he confessed what he’d got up to during those rest-room visits (not realising I already knew).  But I do have a way of making people confess to things.

My one regret is that I didn’t have the camera to capture his predicament at Hooters.

He bought me a Hooter’s t-shirt that I may model for readers if at least ten of you ask me nicely to do so.  A bit of hypnosis wearing a tight fitting Hooter’s t-shirt?  What next?  Cleopatra in a very, very, wet T-shirt?

Buy the full video clip at my Clips4sale store here: http://www.clips4sale.com/store/30616

I, and the Foot Fetish Hypnosis community, suffered a calamity yesterday as I was preparing to leave Los Angeles.  An almost irreparable loss in the shape of a chipped toe nail.

Now, this is not just any toe nail.  Oh no.   This is the nail of the big toe on my right foot.  And not just any old big toe nail on any old right foot.  This was a specially adorned toe-nail, one of a set of ten, encrusted with a spiral of crystal like diamonds on a deep wine coloured gel background on the waiting to be kissed feet of an erotic hypnotist.  Designed to mesmerise and a wonderful conversational hypnosis ice-breaker.   I showed them off at Brian David Phillip’s Walkabout Trance and Erotic Hypnosis Weekend at Redondo Beach, Los Angeles last weekend.

So, fast forward a couple of days later, and how did this erotic calamity happen?  I was preparing for my flight to Dallas, the next leg of my one to one erotic hypnosis tour.  I have a gizmo for weighing my suitcases to ensure I am within the pitiful 23 kg weight allowance permitted per suitcase when flying.  For some reason, I am always at least four kg over the limit at check-in.  Per suitcase.  So I bought this as a solution.

Sadly, the gizmo does not promise to do the actual packing.  How can any airline with a heart expect anyone to pack three laptops, audio recording equipment, pvc outfits, a swim suit (although I cannot swim, I look hot pretending I’m about to dive in), wigs, English marmalade, a pair of scissors, a 20 foot long LAN cable (for those retarded hotels that think WI-FI in guest rooms is a luxury), a Nova Pro 100 Light Sound Mind Machine kit with head phones and microphone, one pocket watch, one large hypnotic crystal, two anatomically correct male and female dolls for voodoo erotic hypnosis, a camcorder, a tripod, panties, bras (very big bras), more panties (okay, yes, big panties – you just have to love a woman that admits to owning big panties), one paper back book on Power Persuasion and another, hard back book, on how to split the human mind into two, then proceed to fuck about with the poor dumb-struck  soul (okay, that last bit was my take on what to do next after splitting the right brain from the left brain), a pair of denim hot pants (also big, butt guys agree here that size never matters once I have them on), make-up I never remember nor have the time to use (neither does it matter once you are hypnotised, and I always aim to hypnotise you as quickly as possible so I can get on to the fun parts – although an unhurried induction is as good as unhurried foreplay, yes?), one set of nipple clamps (much to small for my extra large nipples ((they do say that everything is big in Texas but things seem bigger since I landed)) , but to test the pain threshold, or lack thereof, of hypnotised subjects for anaesthesia ( that is what I would have told US customs if I’d been stopped at the border, anyway), a packet of custard creams, three dozen condoms, in as many sizes and flavours (a female hypnotist can live in hope, yes?), a 100 ml bottle of lube (a little goes a long, long way, yes?) and a one foot long usb to firewire cable – all within a meagre allowance of 23 kg?  And that is just one suitcase out of my allowance of two. Can you even begin to imagine what I packed in the second suitcase?

So, you can see how part of my logistics and careful planning is to be able to weigh my luggage in advance to avoid the trauma and humiliation of having to open it up  with the above contents within full glare of hundreds of strangers waiting impatiently on the check-in queue behind me, while I try to figure out, in retrospect, what should be left behind.

It goes without saying that lifting the suitcases to weigh them with my gizmo is quite an effort that requires two hands and the correct posture.  And it was during this weight-lifting effort, while attempting to determine the weight of one of the suitcases, that the upwards motion of lifting it up off the ground, had the undesired effect of taking the tip of my toe nail with it.  I practically heard the crystals flying around the room, drowned out only by my howls of anguish.

My expression of grief was not just for the pain associated with swiftly removing a toe nail without an anaesthetic.  It was more for the foot fetishists that these nails had been lovingly designed to seduce.  Men with a foot fetish have been enslaved by much less. So, coupling the effects of the glistening stones on my toe nails, along with the sound of my voice and my words, the unsuspecting were meant to be dropping at my feet to worship them, no less.

So now, in between sessions in Dallas or Houston, I shall be on the look out for a manicurist who is at least half as gifted as my regular manicurist in Purley Way, Croydon and see if she can repair my toe-nail.  And make it seem as if I’ve never lifted a suitcase in my life.

Frankly, if I were as clairvoyant as I am hypnotic, I would have anticipated the false economy of a damaged pedicure and opted to pay the excess baggage at the airport instead!

Earlier today I met, for the first time, a lovely man who has a few porn films under his belt.  I contacted him to ask if he had ever tried erotic hypnosis and if he would like to take part in a little erotic hypnosis video I’d like to film.  I also asked him if he had a few like minded friends that might be interested.  I would really like people to see how hypnosis can amplify sexual pleasure, better than any viagra blue pill or spray.

(more…)

The erotic hypnosis video that I almost didn’t make has turned out to be a turning point for me, leaving me shaken, stirred, aroused, and an unsuspecting victim of self-hypnosis.

I am a crap hypnotic subject.   I’ve always said it.   But if what I just did in the bathroom could get to me, I believe it can get to anybody. (more…)

I was concluding a live in person erotic hypnosis session with a hypnotic massage. This version being one in which every touch is amplified and the relaxation far deeper than with a normal massage and the arousal created almost sadistic as the subject waits for permission to climax. I gave him a count-down from 10 down to zero, after which he would be allowed to cum.

And when I finally gave him permission to cum, I watched his cock lurch forward with a mind of its own, spewing its contents, with dizzy relief, all over his naked belly and thighs, cascading down his skin. And as I watched, ever fascinated by the process of male ejaculation – each the same, and yet so individually different – I noticed there was something definitely different here. I’ve brought this client to climax through hypnosis before – and the consistency of his spunk this time was … different. There was loads of it. But it wasn’t his usual thick and creamy delivery. It was very watery. Remember when I said it cascaded down his skin? It literally sped down.

I made a note to myself to ask him, when he was fully out of trance, if he’d had a vasectomy since our last hypnosis session. That could explain why his semen looked different. I have this theory that probably has no scientific credibility whatsoever – a fertile man has thick cum. The less fertile, the thinner the spunk. But what the heck; I flunked Biology, so what do I know?

Well, after a while, his body stopped shuddering and he fell into a post orgasmic trance. To me it just makes sense to give a subject a relaxing and deep trance immediately after an orgasm. During conscious sex and orgasms, we want to sleep anyway. Also, when I see the client lapse back into a deep trance, I know they’ve finished cumming.

And I was just counting him back up to full awareness when a thought hit me. Supposing what he had just had was not a full orgasm? Supposing he still had some spunk left? His penis was still quite stiff … which doesn’t mean much since the blood flow and circulation varies from one individual to the next.

I didn’t want him to leave unrequited with inadvertent orgasm denial. I swiftly included a clause in the suggestions to wake saying he would wake on cue, unless he still had some more cum left to ejaculate, in which case he would do whatever he had to do to cum fully. I remembered thinking, nah, that’s too clumsy for the mind to handle.

Boy, was I wrong!

You know that point where a subject is being counted back to full awareness and they start to stir and wake. Well, he had been stirring and I could see he was preparing to awaken, until I put in that conditional clause to cum again. His body language changed from burgeoning alertness, to reinstated arousal and he was moaning again. Although I had suspected it, I could not believe it.

On the count that should have had him wake up, he began to moan and writhe again. And he reached down and began to stroke his cock, still in the trance. And as I commanded him to cum now, this time, I saw twice the volume of spunk shooting out of his cock, as if he’d just ended a vow of celibacy. I could not imagine where he’d got that amount of fluid, adding both orgasms together, from.

When he finally came out of trance, he looked as shocked as I, who was still standing there gaping disbelievingly from his crotch to his face. The first thing I wanted to know was, had he deliberately held back with the first orgasm.

“No,” he said. As far as he was concerned, he had felt himself ejaculating and was sure he had cum, until I made that suggestion that if there was anything left he could cum again. And then he just felt it happening again, stronger this time, taking him by surprise.

I told him about the thin consistency of his first ejaculate, and how the second compared. The only suggestion he could offer was that, as he is used to either stroking his cock or having it stroked for him, when cumming, and as neither happened, his body may not have accepted the first as a full orgasm without the manual stimulation. I know that has always found hands-free orgasms in erotic hypnosis beyond his reach (don’t you just love my puns?) and has often asked for permission to use his hands during erotic hypnosis.

But this is plenty of food for thought, and I shall be on the look out for any one holding back on me when I decide it is time to cum.

Cleopatra, Queen of Erotic Hypnosis

My first United States Erotic Hypnosis visit is taking shape.  I initially published a wish-list of Cities I was prepared to visit.  But based on enquiries received so far, the following Cities are on my provisional itinerary.

Dallas

Houston

Chicago

Indianapolis

New York

These are the popular ones getting mentioned where those of you that would like to experience a live erotic hypnosis session are based, or prepared to travel to.  Only a certain number of fixed and confirmed bookings for a particular US City will lead to it being a permanent stop on my itinerary.  So some of the above could drop off and others can still be added.

During these visits I’ll be offering one on one erotic hypnosis sessions with each of you.  Some of you I’ve met already in person when you visited the UK. For others our contact has been via web cam or phone and we feel almost as if we know each other.

I could bring my sexy outfits with me from London, but I think part of the purpose of being in the US is to see what new, hot exotic and fetish pieces I can add to my wardrobe.   I especially love PVC, satin and silk.

These sessions are private, and as with all my sessions, nothing will be filmed, captured, or recorded without prior mutual agreement. If you want to record your session, then please discuss this with me prior to the meeting as terms and conditions apply.

The rate for a one hour session is $250 with each additional hour being $150.  (You didn’t think I’d be charging pound sterling while in the United States, did you?  Couples can attend but a premium applies.  And you will have to take your newly implanted post hypnotic triggers for pleasure away with you … you can’t test them out on my hotel bed!

I did have an enquiry from Edmonton (Canada ((did you know there’s an Edmonton in London, too))  and I do promise to do a separate Canada visit, based on requests, later in the year or early next year.

That’s all for now.

Cleopatra, Queen of Erotic Hypnosis

Focus your gently closing eyes on my crystal ...

Here’s a new erotic hypnosis video I’ve made for lovers of PVC.  It was a bright afternoon when I pulled out my box of hypnotising tricks and wondered what to play with.  My large crystal caught my eye, and the sunlight and was the obvious, mesmerising choice. (more…)

Thank God for my subconscious alarm clock.   I had a pre-arranged web cam erotic hypnosis session with a new subject in Saudi Arabia.  The session was to be at 4.30 am GMT (UK, London time).  I set my alarm to wake me up at 4 am.   It was my phone alarm, the phone itself set to silent so I wouldn’t be disturbed by phone calls or text messages. The problem is, if the phone was to have its way, I would not be disturbed by the alarm either! (more…)