Cleopatra, London Erotic Hypnosis Blog

This was originally posted by Lady Anna, a dominatrix based in the Yorkshire area of England, with a penchant for medical fetishes.  As I read it, I recognised all the types that a professional mistress or dominatrix encounters, many of whom I have either banned their email addresses or blocked their phone numbers.  Basically, these guys feel their manhood threatened and react in a way that should earn them a place on therapist’s couch.  It’s not that they have a problem with the payment (tribute) requires in the pay to play scene.  Because face it, if you can’t afford something, you move on and focus on what you believe your money should be spent on.

To the list I’ve added Mr I’ve Bought You Something From Your Wish-list.  You’ll see why.  But this is an introduction to a line up of timewasters in their many and varied guises. Some are more obvious than others and some are more devious. Whatever their Modus Operandi the result is the same: wasted time, wasted effort and varying degrees of damage to a PD’s confidence, motivation and livelihood (and will to live).

Mr Chat doesn’t want to make a booking. He has no intention of ever making a booking but he’ll call to have a chat about the session that you will do with him. He will also assure you that he is completely genuine. He will carefully guide the conversation to what he could expect and how you will discipline him. Watch out for heavy breathing and sudden hang ups as he disappears in a puff of spunk (copyrighted to Ms Slide).

Mr No Show makes a booking so that he can discuss with you all of his concerns and worries. He needs you to allay his fears and he likes to talk about how enjoyable sessions are. When he makes the booking he is strangely available on any day, at any time you suggest with no hesitation or time to consult either his memory or his diary. Along with Mr Chat he is very, very genuine. He tells you this at least three times. You have a feeling he won’t confirm and sure enough, he doesn’t.

Mr Confirms will book and, as requested and expected, he will also confirm on the day of the session. He then conducts his usual business knowing that the Mistress will be preparing herself for him. He watches the clock with baited breath and tented trouser as the time draws ever nearer. Look at him, he’s Da Man. He has a Mistress all dressed up and waiting for him. False bookings are often made in his lunch break so he can spend some extra time in the loos.

Mr Cancel is a bit further up the evolutionary scale than Mr Chat, Mr No Show and Mr Confirms. Mr Cancel makes a considered booking in advance. He may then need to call to change the time of the day. With each call he chats a little more. He’s really looking forward to the session, are you? Unfortunately, something very, very important crops up at work and so he has to cancel. He’s terribly sorry. He calls again a few weeks later and re-books. Unfortunately though, he has to cancel again. After several months you realise he has done nothing but book and cancel, book and cancel.

Mr Promise usually contacts you through message boards. He’d love to come and see you but he’s a bit busy at the moment. He contacts you again every few weeks to update you on his busy schedule and the problems he is having with his bank. As soon as it is sorted he will make a booking. Ever so friendly and don’t forget, genuine, he updates you whether you are bothered or not on how much closer he is to making a booking. He never does make that booking.

Mr Excuse is Mr Cancels’ cousin. Mr Excuse makes a booking but has to cancel due to so many things going wrong. These things happen don’t they? The MOT on the car was more expensive than they thought so they need to cancel. They have been called in for extra, much needed overtime so they have to cancel. But it is okay because he has let you know in plenty of time so he knows he can rebook at any time…as long as he cancels…even if it is the same day.

Mr One Session has given all of this timewasting a great deal of thought. Mr One Session makes a booking and he does turn up. He will ‘let slip’ how often he likes to session and how much disposable income he has. He has proved he isn’t a timewaster but a very promising regular, so when he books again you accept it with no qualms. Unfortunately he has to cancel a couple of days before. He’s terribly sorry. No problem, these things happen, thanks for letting me know. He soon calls again to rebook. Unfortunately he has to cancel again. Thanks for letting me know. A couple of weeks later he rebooks. The excuses are sounding less and less genuine but he sounds so sincere and he did come before you continue to give him the benefit of the doubt. He rebooks. He cancels. You then find out he is playing the same game with a number of PDs in the same area. He’s well known, has several numbers and a few names. Fortunately for you he can’t remember which name he uses with which PD.

Mr Disappears books, confirms, and calls, as arranged, a few minutes before the session starts for final directions. He sounds nervous. He calls to say he has managed to get lost between point A and point B a mere 800 metres distance. You give directions again. No sign. You call. His phone is turned off. You wait, in vain, knowing that the sub eating monster has struck yet again.

Mr Freebie Hunter, otherwise known as Mr Friend may or may not actually book and turn up for a session. He’d rather not though as he is special and different to other subs. If he does he’ll only do it the once to prove he is genuine. Mr Freebie Hunter wants to be friends. He’ll offer to escort you to clubs and parties. He’ll even offer to do chores for you. All for free of course. Because he is special.

Mr Novelty is so off the wall that you can’t help but give him the time of day. He likes what? He is into what? Really? How does that work then? He becomes such a regular and amusing timewaster that you give him a nickname, and should you re-list on Serious Mistresses and he doesn’t call you actually become quite worried about him.

Mr Couple is a rare breed of timewaster. You can’t call yourself a twue PD until you have had a query from a man asking if you see couples. He’d have you talking all about how the session would work if you don’t refuse to discuss the possibilities any further until his wife calls you herself. She never does.

Mr Wonga is an odd one. He has stacks of cash and is usually accompanied by a (fake or genuine?) plummy accent. He has specially selected YOU but would you possibly be interested in his particular kink (even though you don’t list it, or specifically say you aren’t interested). Of course he will pay handsomely, at least three times your usual rate. He draws you in with his cash waving, extreme politeness and genial bonhomie. You don’t have the specific kit or clothing? No worries, Mr Wonga will purchase them for you. Despite his educated politeness he cannot take a firm ‘No’ as an acceptable answer. He regales you further with tales of shopping trips with his previous, but now retired (and unknown) Mistress. Eventually you manage to politely disengage and he reluctantly ends the conversation with a heavy sigh. Exactly 30 minutes later Mr Wonga calls back with an increased offer and further anecdotes about how often he would purchase special items for his last Mistress. The only way to get rid of Mr Wonga is to give in and agree to see him, and sure enough, you never hear from him again.

Mr Special is far too busy, and far too important to waste his valuable time carefully reading your website. Oh no, he’d far rather grab your telephone number and call you to waste your time by asking questions that are already answered on your site, things like your location, your fee, your interests… Mr Special deserves answers! Or he’ll ask for an appointment on the day you don’t work. He also doesn’t see why he should follow the same procedures as everyone else. What do you mean you don’t do same day appointments!? He is special! Fill out a questionnaire!!? But he is GENUINE.

Mr Macdonalds thinks all PDs are the same. The only thing that is different is our location. He usually asks for ‘the Mistress’ and if pressed has absolutely no idea which Mistress he is calling. His scribbled list of telephone numbers don’t help him out so he stutters and coughs as he desperately tries to remember a name, any name. Mr Macdonalds is rather bewildered and confused that you don’t immediately and gratefully agree to see him.

Mr Calls Back Because He Thinks He’s Remembered “Is it Lisa?”

Mr Disaster is plagued with near death experiences on motorways and a never-ending steam of hospital bound relatives. Even his cat is accident prone. You dare not, and wouldn’t, say anything other than ‘I’m terribly sorry, I understand, please don’t worry about it’. It means as well that you will probably accept another booking, after all, he can’t possibly have that many grandmothers or car crashes can he? Unfortunately…he does.

Mr Confused. “How much?”

Mr Wrong End of the Stick. “Do you do sex?”

Mr Insomniac calls between the hours of 1am and 3am depending on what time his local club closes their doors. Inebriated and horny he calls hoping like hell that you don’t actually pick up. If you do happen to pick up he either asks you if you are available (what, now!?) or he quickly hangs up. If you don’t answer, he calls again, and again until he falls asleep in his pizza.

Mr Quiet. “……..” Is he even breathing? You hang up so he doesn’t faint.

Mr Hang Up Repeatedly hangs up Quelle surprise, I answered my phone.

Added by UK based Mistress Sapphire

Mr Newbie…..not!  Tries very hard to sound nervous to the point of being painful to listen to. Keeps repeating that it will be his first time and is very nervous. Asks ( very nervously) what might be in store for his ” first session” and then proceeds to trip himself up by knowing some of the jargon used for various activities ( despite forever claiming before that he knows nothing) He will pick up on something you are saying/have said and will ask you to explain in more detail, and more detail…..and more detail ( because after all he is new to this) You explain that because its his first time, he needs to be sure that a session with you is really what he wants to do and that he should go away and think about it, and then give you a ring when he has……….only he never does because he has got what he wanted, a nice cosy/sexy chat.

Mr I’ve Bought You Something From Your Wish-list notifies you that he’s ordered an item from your wish-list, usually a substantially priced item that needs to be delivered and is scheduled to arrive in x number or days time.   He’ll drop hint about wanting a web cam or phone session, or may be insistent about having one immediately.  As he figures it ordering a gift item is as good as the item being in your hand.  Except the item never arrives – seeing as he would have cancelled it within 24 hours.  A case of buyer’s remorse, a genuine mistake with his credit card, or the mistress has naively given him some time on the phone or web cam so he cancels the purchase that had got him into her good books?

Mr I’m a Qualified Reikki/Masseur/Reflexologist who pretends to be a client desperate to book, then when the thorny topic of money arises, mentions that he’s qualified in Reikki, massage, reflexology or another alternative therapy.  When you don’t take the hint, he directly states that he can’t afford to pay but would happily do a trade of skills because I’ll enjoy it so much.  Newsflash, I can afford several sessions of Reikki, massage or reflexology for cash, without much effort, and select someone that’s qualified and insured to provide the service.

Mr Web Designer Despite seeing that I have a web site, asks if I’m looking for a web designer or any kind of internet work.  I had one the other day who wrote saying he was willing to trade his “skills” for my “time”.  This made me see red!  I haven’t picked up what I do as a hypnotist by teaching myself.  Countless hours in the class-room, lots of money spent on qualifications and he thinks all I have to offer a sub is my time.  My unskilled time.  Versus his html skills probably self-taught or picked up in Adult Education evening classes.  Even I know as much html, php and C programming as many of these blaggers. For the record, I will never allow any subject near my web sites.  It;s a little too close to home.

I found it amusing that the original author, Lady Anna, put into words random opinions that had been forming in my mind over the years.  And I’m sure other ladies had Oh My Gosh moments as they read through.

There is a list of Time-wasting mistresses.   Although I suspect that apart from the hard chore unprofessional ones, the others have just come up with excuses when they felt a particular sub was going to be more trouble than the tribute he would be would be worth.

I should compile a list of Treasured Clients.  Each one an individual in their needs, but having the same thing in common: respect for someone that has learnt enough about a particular skill or art to make their dreams come true.

Cleopatra, Queen of Erotic Hypnosis

My video clips for sale

I had a new client recently who was happy to have the camera rolling to capture his session.  New to hypnosis as well, although with a submissive side that he’d was willing to explore more.  One of his identified kinks was CFNM. Clothed Female and Naked Male.  I asked him about his previous experiences of being naked in front of a fully clothed female.

What surprised me about his answer was how ordinary experiences of being naked in front of a clothed female were always in professional settings. But he recounted each one faithfully because each occasion was so tantalisingly close.  Being naked for a medical check up; a photo shoot with a female photographer – albeit marred slightly when she asked him to hold a pair of gloves up in front of his genitals, to make the photos tasteful.

“Now you get to be naked in front of a woman that knows exactly how turned on you feel to be naked in front of a fully clothed woman,” I assured him.  He smiled and nodded.  But I didn’t ask him to strip naked. Oh goodness no.  Because that would be way too easy and not hypnotic.  I needed him to feel the role erotic hypnosis was going to play in this fantasy.

The session opened with a swinging pocket watch induction.   He relaxed, allowed himself to let go and was soon embarking on the first of the many trances he would experience.  Not that he seemed that impressed when he first came out of trance.  To be in trance feels so normal for some, not quite what one was expecting.  Almost dismissible.

I used a sleep trigger on him.  Any response was barely noticeable to the naked eye.  I must have blinked and missed it, which was more than could be said for my subject.  Not even a blink.  Indeed, his response had been a smile and:

“It didn’t work.”

“Do you really think so?” I had asked.  I’d been prepared for this.  And now I was glad the camera was filming.  Just because his eyes were still open and he wasn’t back in trance didn’t mean as much as he thought it meant.  Too many potentially good hypnotic subjects give up too soon on the power of hypnosis, not realising they were on the threshold of deep and convincing trance.   He admitted to feeling a little dizzy.  That was good enough for me.

I snapped my fingers again, as you’ll see in the video.  This time I observed almost imperceptible muscles in his eye-lids tremble for a split second.  No one can do that consciously.

“What just happened there?” I asked my sceptical subject.

“Well, my eyes feel strange,”

“Your eyes do feel strange, don’t they?” I repeated the trigger.  “Something is definitely happening there.”

With a bit of prompting, I showed him how the rest was in his hands.  I couldn’t force him into being hypnotised or responding to triggers.  Well, not in a manner of speaking, although watching the video, you’ll probably think I gave his subconscious mind little or no choice but to obey. Which is what most men want anyway.

He had a roll to play in making it happen, allowing it to happen.  I allowed and encouraged him to make himself comfortable.  Getting comfortable would allow his mind to be susceptible to hypnotic conditioning. Once I had his mind conditioned, I would demonstrate to him that you can be hypnotized anytime, anywhere.  Soon, his mind was conditioned enough for him to immediately submit to the trigger.  Sometimes he’d slip away with a faint smile on his face, as if he felt he was just playing along.  But before long, the smile would melt into a placid expression as his facial muscles relaxed and he’d take on an intense expression of focus as his mind processed my suggestions.  This took just over an hour.  And included making his arm and hand numb.  With varying success.  He could still feel his arm, he said.  But he agreed that he couldn’t feel me pinching him with my nails. But I was satisfied that we could move on to the fun part of the hypnosis.  Bringing your fantasies into the mix.

So now that we’d broached the subject of nudity, it was time for us to have fun.  With him in trance once more, I fed him the suggestions he needed.  How much he wanted to be naked.  How weird he felt in his clothes.  How his urge to be naked would border on agitation, yet he would have to wait for my permission to strip naked.  His face, his whole body, began to take on the signs of the agitation, the excitement as he lay there.  He was trembling while in trance.

And when I counted him back to awareness, he was so fidgety.  I dragged the moment, playfully.  Discussing things.  Leaving him alone in the room while I went out to get a throw for the sofa.  I went out to switch the heating on.  Returned mid-way to ask him how high he’d like the heating.  Only his politeness prevented him from screaming “I don’t fucking care, just let me get naked for you now!”

And when the permission to strip naked came, he was almost ripping his clothes off, flinging them to one side and savouring the liberty.

“Would you like me to close the curtains?” I asked.

Most of my subjects are so paranoid, even when fully clothed, that the curtains always have to be closed.   He shook his head.  He was facing the window.  He was naked.  In front of me.  In front of the world.  He clearly secretly hoped that someone else might be watching, him.  And his erection was rock hard.  He was the consumate exhibitionist, to boot.

I chided him and verbally humiliated him, which made him get harder.

I then used the sleep trigger and he stood there naked, doubled over, in trance.  This I liked.  Earlier, he had equated his being able to enter trance with his need to be comfortable.  It helps to be comfortable.  But a well planted sleep trigger will work any time, any where.  Ask my subjects who’ve woken up slumped in front of their computer monitors with the indentations from their key board on their cheeks.

When he came to, he obeyed his installed impulse to pleasure himself crying out for my permission for him to cum.

He later reckoned that even if I’d withheld the permission at that point, he couldn’t have held back.

I think his next session will be a lesson in repeated orgasm denial.  And he can experience that naked too. That will remind him who’s in control when he’s in my presence!

The full video is available over the next couple of days, now that I’m done with the editing, more or less.  And you can watch his transformation from hypnotic sceptic to naked man in trance and one of the lucky hypnotized ones.

Cleopatra, Queen of Erotic Hypnosis in London, UK

Cleopatra is a female hypnotist specialising in Erotic Hypnosis, Mind Control, and Brain Washing in London, UK where she offers live, in person sessions of real, one to one hypnosis, a unique experience for those that wish to experience complete loss of control.

She also performs group hypnosis and stage hypnosis shows, as well as sessions via web cam, and phone. And if you can handle having your mind in a dreamy spin for days on end, invite Cleopatra along as your hypnotic travel companion on your next holiday break. Cleopatra regularly visits major US cities, Australia and Europe.

See samples of her warm hypnotic style on her Youtube Channel, http://www.youtube.com/erotichypnosis

Purchase her unique erotic hypnosis videos at http://www.clips4sale.com/store/30616

I trance male and females at Niteflirt

The Vegas Strip can be so hypnotic by night, with all the lights.  But there’ll be one hypnotic light that you’ll find impossible to resist: me!  I’m going to be in Las Vegas in March.

Yes, if you live in Las Vegas or are going to be in Las Vegas between March 9 and March 14, then here’s an opportunity for you to experience a personal, real time, erotic hypnosis session with one of the few female erotic hypnotists that offer real, live, unscripted, unrehearsed erotic hypnosis face to face sessions.  In Vegas.

A personal erotic hypnosis session has the advantage over listening to mass produced mp3s or watching videos where one size is expected to fit all.  Yet, there are at least four different personality types and we all trance differently, and to various degrees.

When I hypnotise you in person, I can adjust to your responses and body language to give you the perfect trance experience.  And this is what you can experience with me in Las Vegas next month.

The sessions will be in the luxury and splendour of one of the top hotels on the Strip.   The result is a dreamy and decadent journey from reality to fantasy – as you drift easily from one altered state to an even more profound altered state.

And whatever happens in Vegas will surely stay in Vegas.  Let go and indulge in your hypnotic fantasies now.

My US mobile phone number will be made available to those scheduled for an erotic hypnosis session.

Spaces are really limited so avoid disappointment by booking early.  First come, first served.  A booking is required to secure your place and get my contact details.

Book your Las Vegas Erotic Hypnosis Session Here Now

Cleopatra, UK Queen of Erotic Hypnosis Visiting Las Vegas, United States

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

Buy my videos 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 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

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.