Cleopatra, London Erotic Hypnosis Blog

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

My video recordings for sale at Clips4sale

I was asked an interesting question by a client as she prepares for a few sessions to enhance her feminization experience. What, you may be asking, does enhancing a feminization experience entail?

Well, on a wider level, it could mean working on the girly mannerisms, the feminine walk, sitting just right, the vanity about appearance, the confidence to walk into a lingerie shop and pick and match the panties of one’s choice. Even (more…)

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.

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!

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…)

After four hours of erotic hypnosis, including some work to help my subject combat work related stress with some hypnotherapy stress relief, it was time to go out to dinner.   As he lived abroad, he had, up till now, contented himself with web cam hypnosis sessions.  Now at last, he had experienced the real thing.  Was the dreamy look that glazed his eyes over dinner due to jet lag, or was this just what happens when your subconscious mind suddenly delivers an extremely pleasant memory?

I refrained from triggering him over dinner at a local Italian restaurant – bless him, he’d been concerned that the restaurant was far from going to be the lavish and expensive treat he wanted to shower on him, but I’d assured him, and he’d agreed, that the quality of the food and the company were far more important.  He did however dig his heels in when I playfully suggested we go to the local Nando’s chicken store.

We walked back to my place for some fresh air.  I’d promised him a ride home.  He’s been extremely supportive as a subject and it was very easy to see him as both friend and client, while knowing he would never try and take advantage as many do.

Parked outside his hotel, he was undoing his seat belt when I reached across and began to massage his scalp.  His eye lids slid down and he slumped in the seat, his lips parted slightly.  As this was possibly the last time I’d be seeing him, I really wanted him to leave with some very positive suggestions.  When I counted him back to full awareness, he sighed deeply.  Less than three months ago, he’d considered himself impossible to hypnotise.  Now, he considered himself the luckiest man, able to let go and sink into deep trance now.

“Cleopatra,” his voice was husky as if he’d been asleep for hours, and not in trance for two minutes, “could you come upstairs with me to my room and do that again,”

Actually, that was a lovely idea.  We scrutinised the parking restrictions of the area to confirm I could leave my car there and entered his hotel as he led the way to his room.

I did a quick tour of his suite while he hastily whipped off his trousers, keeping his underpants on.  He had nothing left to hide from me.  He lay flat on his back in anticipation and I kicked off my shoes and lay beside him.  Explaining that I’d let myself out of the room when I was done.

And then I hypnotised him again, a combination of a two step post hypnotic re-induction and the irresistible trigger of my fingers massaging his scalp. The first step of the re-induction reminds him how much of a struggle it is for him to think about too many things at once, and why it is better to just focus on how good it feels to relax and let go.  The second drops him into deep trance.

I whispered more positive suggestions, throwing in a few erotic suggestions for immediately he woke up.   In the fading light, I could make out the bulge of his cock through his under-pants.  It was tempting to bring him to yet another hypnotic orgasm climax as he lay there helpless.

But instead I planted a gentle kiss on his fore-head and slipped out quietly, with only his subconscious mind knowing when it would be time for him to wake up.

I guarantee you that a lot of things were happening in the privacy behind thousands of hotel room doors across London last night.

But none, bar none, of those encounters would have been as deeply erotic and long lasting as what this over-seas visitor experienced with me.

This is a unique opportunity for my admirers in the United States to experience an in person, live, face to face erotic hypnosis session.  Just you, me, behind closed doors.  And your mind struggling to remember afterwards which parts were real, and which imagined.   Your dreams, for many moons to come, taking you on erotic journeys in which I continue to tease and satisfy you.  Just remembering that lovely British Accent that that made all your fantasies come true at once. (more…)

There’s a programme called The Moment of Truth that shows here in the UK but is from America.  Where brave people risk all to confess to the excruciating truth of their deepest darkest secrets, with the lure of a big money prize.

But what about if the urge to tell the truth and confess all is due to a post hypnotic trigger and mind control tactics?   This is the fear of some that keeps them as far away from a hypnotist as possible**.  And you can be sure that when an erotic hypnotist gives you her hypnotic truth serum, the secrets you spill will be deeply sensual.

Just the other day I did this via a web cam hypnosis session.  A post hypnotic trigger would make it impossible for the subject to hold on to secrets he had never told any one before.

So, when he opened his eyes, I asked him what was his biggest secret.  I smiled as his lips faltered.  He so wanted to obey me, yet the magnitude of what he had to express kept him back on a conscious level.  I reached for my bottle of water, took a long, slow slip, and repeated the question.

Mind control’s a bitch.  Without further prompting, the truth tumbled out.  He spoke in a low, almost toneless voice, spilling secrets he had never, ever shared with any one.  And every so often, I’d watch him sigh with the relief that confession can bring, as he was powerless to resist his strong desire to submit.

And afterwards, he shook his head with a combination of awe and horror.  And for the next week or so, he beseeched me in his emails to remind me what he’d said.  He knew he’d confessed to things.  But he wasn’t sure what he’d divulged and what he may have just about have been able to hold on to.  If anything.

And I kept the secrets of that day to myself enjoying his anguish.   What had I heard?  What did I now know?

But the truth is, I heard nothing.  I know nothing.  For just as he had begun to confess, the sound of the web cam session became inexplicably distorted.  I’d sat there straining to hear what he was saying.  But no joy.

Which actually made it all the funnier later on when he fretted about it.

So, as he’s reading this, he’ll be relieved to know, his secrets are safe.  For now.

** Please note, I performed this truth experiment with his full prior consent.  You cannot be forced to do any thing or say anything against your will during hypnosis.  If it were otherwise, I’d be driving a top of the range Mercedes Benz and living in mansion.  If someone tries to hypnotise you into doing something that you really do not want to do, this breach of trust will almost certainly interrupt the trance process.