Beguiled

by LydiaSalia

Tags: #cw:noncon #D/s #dom:female #dom:male #m/f #multiple_partners

Two friends meet up at HypnoThoughts and are ambush hypnotized. Extremely hot. Guaranteed you will want sex (or to masturbate) after reading this.

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Lydia and her friend Julie attend an erotic hypnosis convention and are ambushed by a covert induction. After waking up to the realization they have been hypno-raped, they extract revenge on their captors. Beguiled is one of my favorite stories. It explores the question; if you hypnotize someone and have sex with them, have you abrogated a moral or ethical code? You probably have, even if the sex is after the person wakes up. Obtain informed consent before hypnotizing them or you risk facing civil and criminal liabilities.

This story contains scenes of explicit sexuality. It is not intended for viewing by minors. If you have not reached the age of majority in your area then please do not proceed.

All characters and situations depicted in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Copyright @ 2021 Lydia Salia

The author strictly forbids the archiving of this story on sites that charge fees either directly or indirectly through age checks or other secondary services. The author forbids the archiving of this story on free sites without my express consent that can be obtained by e-mailing me at privateacct4578@gmail.com

Introduction

My name is Lydia Salia. I am a real life hypnodomme and master hypnotist. My friend Julie Adams is also a hypnotist. We have had fun together 'hypnotically compelling' men and women for our own personal pleasure. We have done this to each other – testing the limits of hypnotic control. We both used hypnotic ‘negative hallucinations’ on each other. I ended up emailing lude photos of myself to readers and I was unaware I was doing so until pointed out by a reader. Of course, I retaliated against Julie. That was a real-life story documented in the story Hypno-pranks. Btw, "negative hallucination" in hypnosis is a real thing. Google it. There is a bible proverb ‘You reap what you sew’.  If you are going to dish out hypnotic compulsion, then be prepared for the consequences. God works in mysterious ways…

Beguiled

I went to a hypnotic convention in Las Vegas called HypnoThoughts. I was hypnotized for real. How much of this story really happened? That is for me to know and you never to find out.

I recorded my story in chronological format - while I could still remember.

Chapter 1  Ambush hypnotized

The day of November 15, 2019. This entry is recorded November 17.

Have you ever wondered if you can be hypnotized? Most everyone can be. I found this out for myself when I was 18. I was hypnotically 'ambushed'.  I didn't plan on it.  I didn't want it.  It just happened and it changed my life forever. My first encounter with hypnosis is chronicled in "Before I was a hypnodomme", chapter 1 of my eBook on Amazon titled 'Confessions of a Hypnodomme'.

We all go into light trances throughout the day.  When you are driving, and you suddenly realize you have driven quite a ways further than you realized... and didn't even remember getting there. Well, that's a form of hypnotic trance.  Or you are watching a movie and become so self-absorbed that you are unaware of anyone around you.  Just so fixated on the actors and the story playing out on the screen, that you are oblivious to everything else... then you have been in trance my friend. If I watch a particularly sad movie, I feel the same emotions, the same sadness. I will be sitting there crying my eyes out and blowing my nose. It can be embarrassing. Covert hypnosis happens to us every day to varying degrees. As I mentioned at the beginning, my first personal experience with intentional covert hypnosis was at the age of 18. I was hypnotized, and I might add deeply, if only because I did not recognize the signs of what was happening to me in time to stop it. Once you start to go under there isn't a lot of time to change your mind.

About 10% of the general population is hyper-hypnotizable.  This used to be called somnambulistic trance with the very deepest state referred to as an Esdaile (or coma) state. On a scale from 1 to 10, some people are 1s, some are 10s. The dullards, unimaginative dolts that you would never strike up a conversation with are the 1s. The intelligent, empathetic, imaginative folks are the 8s or 9s,... or rarely 10s. Where am I on the hypnosis susceptibility scale?  I'm a solid 10. I'm not talking about looks, but I score pretty high in that category as well. No, I'm talking about hyper suggestible and easily hypnotizable. Fortunately, I know this and I've learned how to erect mental defenses to protect myself... mostly. Thinking back on this, its kind of ironic because this is what I do for a living. This is what I do to others.  You see, I'm a hypnodomme.

Covert hypnosis borders on unethical. The ACHE maintains a code of ethics that requires licensed hypnotists to obtain permission before we hypnotize someone.  Not everyone adheres to these guidelines. The villain(s) of this story, did not adhere to the ACHE guidelines - not even close. The 2nd (or third) and hopefully last time I was hypnotically ambushed was one week ago - well, at least that I am aware of.  I'm writing this all down now because my memory of events seems a bit shaky. I wake up each morning and another piece to the puzzle has drifted a little farther away. 

I decided to write the fantastical events that transpired as a yarn. A good bard should always strive to keep her readers spellbound.

Here is my story... and it's a doozy.

I had traveled to an erotic hypnosis convention.  I was giving a lecture titled "Fractionation Deepening". My husband Doug was at home, being Mr. Mom, taking care of our rambunctious 2-year-old. I ran into an old friend in the lobby, fellow hypnotist, and friend Julie Adams.  She wanted to go to the bar for a few drinks..., such a lush, but I wasn't up for it that night. We agreed to make it a date for the following evening. I hadn't seen her in over a year. She was dipping her toes in the erotic hypnosis arena and wanted to hear some stories. I had plenty of stories. I headed up to my room.  I was weary and ready for bed.  A quick shower to freshen up and then nighty night. 

The following day I attended the first session titled 'Covert Hypnosis'. I didn't expect to learn anything that I didn't already know. The speaker began with an introduction of how the brain works, the subconscious, blah, blah, blah. I did notice the screen saver playing on the big conference room screen while he droned on. It was different from the garden variety Microsoft screen savers.  And I noticed a faint hum on the loudspeaker system. Auditory feedback? But it wasn't getting louder or grating like feedback. It seemed almost familiar, and it ebbed and flowed in intensity. I'm afraid this consumed my focus, and I wasn't really paying attention to the speaker. Then something interesting happened with the screen saver. The patterns of light on the screen swirled in a rhythmic dance and pulsated to something? The audible hum? It varied in pitch and intensity. Very odd....

And then I became aware of people staring at me. A lot of people. An audience of people. And laughing. What the hell? Had I been ambushed?  At least I wasn't alone. Sharing the stage with me were half a dozen fellow conference attendees all apparently slowly waking up. The speaker thanked us for our participation. What participation? I didn't give my consent for anything. I remember the walk of shame as I returned to my seat. A fellow attendee showed me a video he had taken of us. Sure enough, there I was on the stage... trying to count to 10 but forgetting the number 4. It was a reminder to me of just how powerful the subconscious mind is.

I thought to myself, if you want a recipe for the perfect hypnotic subject, you would add 1 part 'trusting soul', 1 part 'great imagination' and 1 part 'the ability to laser focus on something’ and voilà!, you have the perfect hypnotic subject, a.k.a., me!

Back to the story. The rest of my day was uneventful. I attended a few lectures and then headed back to the hotel. I ate a light dinner in my room and called Julie to see if she was ready to meet up for drinks. We agreed to meet at the bar at 8.  I prepared a luxurious bubble bath with my favorite essential oil, lavender aromatherapy. A loofah to complete the experience. Thirty minutes later I emerged a new woman.  Fresh, clean and fragrant. I applied long false eye lashes and dark mascara.  My favorite ruby red lipstick and a dab of Obsession between my breasts. I was feeling adventurous, so I pulled on my Kendra Plunge Lace red dress.  It fit me like a glove, and I looked dangerous. I looked in the mirror. Drop dead gorgeous and ready to devour any hapless male that stumbled into my web. I was ready to conquer the town.

I traveled down on the elevator. Two men surveyed me. I imagined them licking their lips, salacious machinations in their minds. I smiled to myself, "Ah males, such slaves to their hormones". I wondered if they were attending the conference. We reached the lobby and the taller of the two extended his arm graciously, holding the elevator door for me to exit. I thanked him and smiled coyly at them as I exited. I could feel them staring at me, undressing me with their eyes. I found the bar.  Julie saw me first and waved.

"Hi Lydia! Oh my god! You look stunning in that dress. If looks could kill, the boys would be dropping like flies."

I couldn't help but smile at the compliment.  Julie was one of the sweetest people I knew. I could count on one hand the people that I trusted this deeply and Julie was one of them. I walked up to her and gave her a hug.  I remembered as I leaned in, her neatly coiffed hair and how good she smelled. Julie had been working out and she was considerably lighter than I remembered from the prior year. She looked absolutely dazzling in a solid black triangle plunge dress. The side slit left little for the imagination. I wasn't gay, but she could probably have turned me.

I winked mischievously, "Who are you looking to bed tonight?"

Smiling demurely, she quipped, "Girlfriend, you know what a proper young lady I am..."

We ordered drinks and after the second one I was feeling no pain.  I'm such a lightweight when it comes to alcohol.

Perfect timing. The two men, that I shared the elevator with, walked up to our table.  Julie knew them.

"Hi Tim, Jeff! They greeted one another with hugs.

Tim was studying me.  It felt a little uncomfortable. "You don't remember me?", he enquired.

I responded, "The elevator?" 

"Well, yes that, but I was the one who took the video of you this morning on the stage and showed it to you afterwards."

I felt myself blush.  I wasn't sure if it was because of the awkward realization that this man had observed me in such a vulnerable state or because I had so obviously ignored his presence when he showed me the video on his phone. My lack of decorum was something I must work on.

I ventured, "I guess I didn't remember you because I must still have been dazed from my unexpected stage performance."

He seemed satisfied with my response. I was mulling over what to say next when Julie interrupted the awkward silence.  "Tim and Jeff were in my class at Seven Paths.  We received our hypnotherapy degrees together."

I tilted my head, critically appraising both of them. "This is an erotic hypnosis convention. Do you guys know what you're getting yourselves into?

Tim spoke first, "Not really, but I'm all for new adventures. Erotic hypnosis intrigues me. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to turn someone into your personal sex slave?

"Wondered?  Erotic hypnosis is my specialty", I said. And so was my sardonic wit. "You two?... erotic hypnotists? You guys are virgins." Grinning wickedly, "Personal sex slaves are my *raison d'etre*"

Tim replied, "Well that's why we are here.  To learn from the best."

I looked over at Jeff who shifted his weight uneasily to the other leg and managed to squeak out, "I can't imagine hypnotizing someone to have sex with me. I just don't have the confidence. It has to be a pretty traditional relaxation induction for me."

I frowned, shaking my head, "The goal of erotic hypnosis is not really about coercing sex with someone.  It's about exploring boundaries and lifting inhibitions. It's about awakening repressed sexual desires.  Sometimes it's just arousal or exhibitionism. Sex, when it happens, should be a natural, consensual progression.  Not something that is expected and certainly not something that is coerced."

He seemed satisfied with my explanation.

I thought to myself. Tim was the alpha male in this pairing. Jeff was definitely socially awkward. Give me a couple weeks with him and I could program him to be confident and a regular Casanova. Jeff had the looks, but he was in desperate need of a confidence boost.

Tim chimed in, "Hey Lydia, can I show you a phone app that Jeff and I have co-developed and get your opinion? It is based on a pattern of lights that mimics the different frequencies of brain waves. We call it our ‘Brain Drain' app.

Clever name I thought. "So... brain waves like in beta, gamma and theta waves?"

The two men looked at each other, surprised.  "Yes, exactly.  What,... do you have a background in reading EEGs or something??"

"No, but I know all about brain waves. That is old school. These brain wave emulators are powerful in their own right, but when you combine them with TCMS the possibilities are mind boggling,"

Julie suddenly perked up, "TCMS?  What is TCMS?"

"Trans cranial magnetic stimulation" I answered. "It’s approved for depression, but it has been shown to result in temporary improvements in concentration and intelligence. The area that interests me most is its ability to preferentially target and inhibit neural signals between the brain's salience network and the default mode network."

Jeff sighed, "Wow.  You had me at default mode network."

I laughed. "Since we are all slaves to our subconscious, if TCMS can activate the subconscious, which by definition means the conscious mind is suppressed, then you can accomplish wondrous things. Of course, in the same vein, this has the potential to be abused. I guess that is why this technology is not available to just anyone. Only to licensed psychologists.... like myself. But I can't quite justify the cost of one of the machines.  Besides, I think TCMS mostly helps amateurs. I can induce deep trance without having to rely on extra-ordinary means."

Jeff looked over at Tim, "She knows more about this stuff than we do."

"Perhaps" said Tim, "but no matter.  We are all just biological computers.  If I can gain access to a computer's root directory, I can take control. Same applies to humans. In fact, they're easier."

I smiled, "You think people are like computers?  And do you walk around with a TCMS machine in your pocket to zombify people?"

Again, Tim spoke first, "No, I wish. I use the Brain Drain app for that."

Tim pulled out his phone and turned it on. Predictably, the app was a small purple icon of a brain. It brought back memories. I remembered how I had been hypnotized by a 'hypnodisc' years before. It had worked by mimicking brain waves. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, feeling the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.  "No need to turn it on", I volunteered meekly. "I'm familiar with the concept." The anxiety in my voice betrayed my concern.

Julie, of course, had to blurt out, "Oh, let me see!"

Tim granted her request and tapped on the app.

I recalled thinking, "Curiosity killed the cat", but I had nine lives, so what the hell.

I decided I would steel my mental defenses, give it a cursory study and then look away if I noticed it having any untoward effect. I put my conscious mind on high alert. Then I looked at the screen and began my analysis.

The pattern of lights began at the periphery then migrated towards the center before drifting back to the edges. It seemed to have a cadence to it... pulsating in sync to a faint auditory hum that was suddenly noticeable. I had to admit, the app looked pretty polished. I thought back to the hypnodisc I had observed years ago. This app was smoother, more refined. The gradation in luminosity was similar with very subtle shifts in brightness.  And the color range oscillated between red, green, blue and violet as the pattern began to slowly oscillate, then spiral towards the center.  Despite my awareness of the danger, I began to feel myself sinking into the chair, a shroud of fog descending over my eyes, clouding my mind... The alarm bells went off in my head. I bit down on my lower lip, hard. Ouch!... A tried-and-true strategy to come back to reality. I certainly wasn't going to cross the Rubicon here..., not now. Not with these two bozos. Who knew what they might try to pull? With a heroic effort, I managed to look away. 

I closed my eyes and shook my head.  Cobwebs cleared..., kinda. "Wow. It certainly has a calming effect. I most definitely felt it."  I took a deep breath.  "Almost the same effect as the hypnodisc I saw years ago." I murmured, stalling long enough to regain my senses.

The app was slick.  I could admit that. But nothing more. The guys obviously did not understand the intricacies of synchronizing brain waves to the light patterns.

Feeling a bit haughty and supercilious I advised, "Sorry boys, but I think you need to go back to the drawing board. If you had gotten the brain waves right, I don't think I'd be awake and critiquing your app right now."

I looked over at Julie.  She was staring, transfixed on the screen. Her eyes blank, her lips parted, silent. I was suddenly alarmed for my friend and decided it was time to end the demonstration.

Then Tim told me to look back at his phone, to concentrate on the patterns of lights. I found myself complying.

What? Ok, what harm could it do to look for a second? 

And hadn’t I just proven to myself that I could stop whenever I wished... and this was no hypnodisc, not by a long shot.

I redirected my concentration to the screen. The app was little more than a pretty light show. Really just a glorified substitute for a fixation object like a crystal, swinging watch or pendulum. Nonetheless, the pattern was fascinating. The patterns shifted in various, clever ways.  Flashes of light intermingled with a wave of swirling light dancing on the screen... and the light intensity increased and decreased rhythmically to the fluctuating binaural hum I could just make out. Not quite the same frequency as brain waves, I thought, but close. I had to hand it to the two of them.  They were on to something. Maybe a little more time and refinement and this could work. But it wasn't quite ready for prime time. I started to feel time slowing and I took that as my internal 'wakeup' alarm to divert my attention elsewhere. Time to call it an evening before I ended up hypnotized again. I thanked them for the demonstration, bid goodnight and headed for my room to get ready for bed.

November 16, 2019

I woke up this morning feeling great. I gathered my lecture notes and headed off to the conference. My seminar was about to start. The moderator graciously introduced me as an expert in the field of erotic hypnosis.  I was only 22, but I did know my shit. My lecture was on fractionation deepening. I killed it. The audience seemed to soak it up and clapped at it's conclusion. A question-answer session followed. Tim was in the audience. He asked, "Do you think you can be hypnotized to have an orgasm and then be commanded to forget the act?"  Normally I would consider that an inappropriate question, but we were at an erotic hypnosis seminar after all.

"Yes, if someone is in deep enough trance, they can be instructed not to remember the act. Not remembering is a bit different than forgetting. The memory is right there, but the subconscious decides if you are allowed to retrieve it. But an orgasm...", I pondered. "The strong, visceral pleasure of an orgasm would be hard to mask I should think."

Tim persisted..., "You didn't answer my question. I asked do YOU, think YOU, can be hypnotized to have an orgasm and then be commanded to forget the act?" 

I got the gist of the real question the second time around.  I turned bright red.  I'm rarely at a loss for words, but this was one of those times. Audience members seemed to suddenly perk up, curious about what he was implying. He looked like he was really proud of himself. I regained my composure and responded, "I'm sure if you and I had sex, I would remember.  It's the little things that we tend to remember."  That got a good laugh and I shut him down.  What a jerk.

The conference ended and I hugged Julie goodbye, bidding her a safe flight. Julie handed me a USB memory stick. "This is for you. I got one too. Jeff handed them to me and asked that I give you one. He said we are allowed to open them and look at the video files when we get home."

Allowed? Fuck that, I'll look at it on the plane.

Julie added, "They look forward to getting together with us at next year's conference." I thought to myself, fat chance.  Jeff may be ok, but Tim's a dick.  "Maybe Julie, but Tim embarrassed the hell out of me at my lecture this morning. Listen, I've got to catch my flight. I'll call you when I get home and give you the sordid details."

I took the USB key and put it in my purse. I was very curious to see what was on it. I would watch it on my laptop on the plane.  I opened my laptop, inserted the key, but then changed my mind, deciding I would rather wait until I got home to watch it.

Evening of November 16, 2019

I landed and headed home. I sat down at my desk, turned on my laptop and opened the folder labeled "Hi girls!" There were two video files.  The first one was labeled 'Initial induction. Open this one first’. The other file was labeled 'Thanks for the good times'. I clicked on 'Initial induction'.  It started playing the video of Julie and me at the bar that Jeff had recorded on his phone. There was some small talk, then Tim activated the app on his phone, and I could see myself studying it, analyzing it. Julie was just staring at it.  Tim was speaking to both of us, "Stare intently at the screen and follow the pattern of lights and flashes as they dance across the screen." 

Come to think of it, I did not recall him saying anything, let alone a lengthy instruction. Then, I observed myself on the video looking a little dazed, shaking my head and turning my attention to my friend Julie. My expression changed from placid to alarmed. Julie seemed oblivious. I heard myself on the video instruct them, "Time to end the demonstration". I then hear Tim's voice, "Look back at the screen Lydia." Being the good obedient girl that I am, I complied. I really need to learn how to be more assertive.  No means no..., even if I'm just thinking it.

I don't remember him saying this, but his voice drones on in the video, "Concentrate on the pretty lights. Nothing else matters but the images on the screen and the sound of my voice. The lights are drawing you in, relaxing you, deeply..., so deeply." 

As I watch the recording, I notice a subtle change in my demeanor. My expression seems to soften. My affect goes flat - like you see in the faces of Parkinson patients. "What the fuck?"

No expression, just my eyes half open staring blankly ahead... To borrow one of my favorite expressions, 'the lights are on, but no one is home'...  My face is blank and my mouth droops open. I even see a little drool escape from the corner of my mouth. 

Tim is talking, complementing our cooperation, telling us what good girls we are. Standard deepening fare. A few minutes later we get up and follow them out of the bar. I can just make out Tim asking me my room number.

"Fuck me!" That was not what happened! What I remember was seeing Julie lightly hypnotized, me telling the boys their app doesn't work as well as they thought and then bidding everyone good night. Holy shit!

I was hovering the mouse cursor over the 2nd video file. I was scared to death to open it. I searched my memory of the prior evening. I had returned to the room by myself and undressed. I sleep in the buff. Nothing unusual there. Then I remembered.   Something odd. I had noticed a discharge in my panties. I'd brought panty liners on the trip with me, so I wasn't really worried... more irritated that I might be getting a yeast infection. I recall lifting the panties to my nose to sniff for the telltale, identifying odor and it smelled like semen.  And there was quite a bit of it.  That made no sense.  It had been over a week since I'd had sex with my husband. I had tossed it up to my imagination.  It wasn't semen.

But now... I wasn't so sure. My hand visibly trembled as I opened the second file. The video started with the camera looking at Tim's phone.  He touched the brain icon and selected from the menu 'Post hypnotic suggestions'. Suddenly the pattern of pretty lights emerged looking at me from my computer screen.  The lights were so calming, so mesmerizing.  Then I heard Tim's voice.  "REMEMBER!"

"I suddenly remembered. Oh shit!" I was there, in the room and Tim and Jeff were there.

I was reliving it, moment by moment! The camera panned to show me lying naked on my bed, looking up at the guys, smiling. To my right, Julie was lying naked on the other bed, sound asleep. Why is she in my room? Why is she naked!? Why am I naked?

What was strange was the way my memories were coming back to me. The memories were playing in order as the images appeared on the video. As I watched the video unfold, each second that passed a new memory or emotion emerged from the fog. Each new memory was as if I was seeing it for the very first time. It wasn't past tense. It was present tense. Tim is talking. Jeff is just the camera man... an enthusiastic observer..., well, I guess that is what he is. I hope for the best, but fear the worst.

"Spread your legs wide for me Lydia".  I hear Tim say this on the video, but it is as if he is standing right in front of me this very moment..., commanding me.  "Spread your legs wide for me Lydia.", repeats in my mind. And my legs obey on screen. I have no say in the matter. And my legs obey now... sitting at my desk. Whoa!

"Do you notice how aroused you are becoming Lydia?" The air suddenly seems thick and heavy.

I am right there, reliving the moment, ... I'm looking at Tim and thinking to myself... I know exactly what you are doing, and what is happening to me. I clench my jaw.  I can still stop this. "I am in control of my own body. I am in control of my own body.", the mantra repeats in my head. I feel blood engorging my clitoris, dampness spreading between my legs.

Tim continues, "You are becoming aroused Lydia. You can't ignore it. The arousal is building. You can try to resist it, but the harder you try, the stronger it becomes."

"Shit!", This is not going well. "Think of something else" I tell myself... anything else, taxes..., dead kittens..., anything..., but my confidence is wavering. Tim reels me back in like a fish on a hook.

"You can imagine how good it will feel to have my thick, swollen penis filling you."

And I'm imagining it.  Shit, I can damn near feel it.

"The arousal is building..., you are becoming so wet...."

and I feel myself becoming wetter.

"You want me inside you so badly. You desperately want me inside of you."

Ok, fuck, this isn't funny.  I want him inside me and I'm getting fucking impatient.

"Beg for me to penetrate you."

The memory is as real as if it is happening this very instant.

I don't care any longer about propriety. I need his dick in me and I need it now.

I hear my voice on the video.  It seems like someone else speaking..., but it is definitely my voice. The urgency in my voice is clear, "Put it in me please! Please fuck me. Please! I need it so bad.  Pleeeease!"

I watch the video as I draw my legs up so Tim can easily mount me. He positions himself at my entrance..., agonizing seconds pass as he teases me...  and then he launches himself all the way in... balls deep. It is like a bomb going off. I feel my body convulse, as I cum.

I let out a long, primal, high pitched scream.

"Ewwwwwwwwww ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!... fuck...fuck... fuck...oh fuckkkkkkkk meeee.....!"

I've never orgasmed so hard.  It's incredible, amazing, earth shaking. Tim explodes inside me, and I feel like I'm going to faint. The room slowly comes back into focus as I lie beneath him with a languid, satisfied smile.  I'm spent. The single orgasm has consumed all my energy..., my life force drained.

I look over lazily at Julie as the same process is repeated with her. Except Tim holds the camera for Jeff.  Tim wakes Julie and repeats similar instructions for her to become increasingly aroused.  Julie responds like a champ and Jeff climbs on top of her, spreads her legs, and begins thrusting.  It reminds me of a little dog going to town on a bitch in heat.

Julie cums before long.  Except she starts with a low guttural wail that builds and builds in intensity, then culminates in a crescendo of expletives, "Oh fuck!..., "Oh fuck!..., "Oh fuck..., fuck..., fuck... Fuuuuuccckkkk!".  This is followed by a profuse string of apologies. "I'm sorry. Fuck! I'm sorry. Fuck!... That was so awesome! Thank you!, Thank you!, Fuck..., THANK YOU!" 

I laugh to myself, 'Julie, the apologetic and thankful little slut'. It seems a fitting epithet".

Having just relived this, I reach down between my legs.  I'm soaking wet.  What the hell?

Now for the oddest realization of all. I'm not angry. I should be, but I'm not. I just want to hook up with Tim again. I want that same earth-shattering orgasm.  I deserve it and I'm not going to be denied! 

But I'm so fucking horny now I can't stand it. Where is that husband of mine? He'll have to do as a substitute. I surprise him sitting in his study reading messages on his phone. I drop my skirt and underwear, strip off my shirt and bra and greedily pull off his shorts. I claw onto his lap, reach down and find an eager Kielbasa sausage coming to life. A few tugs and it's awake. I slip it into my pre heated and well lubricated oven. Doug, of course, is happy to oblige my sudden carnal urges. I cum quickly, then cling to him tightly as he grunts and groans his way to his own climax. Except I'm imagining Tim inside me. I feel ashamed. Poor Doug. My need satisfied; I climb off him. What is going on with me.  Oh yeah, that video. Afterwards, I observe him looking at me quizzically and decide I will have to address this with him later.

I call Julie and she answers on the first ring.

"Hi Lydia. Oh my god!  I just finished the video and it felt like I was reliving the orgasm.  It was so real.  Now I'm so randy I can't stand it. I don't think I can wait until next year to see Jeff again. What just happened to us?"

"We were beguiled" I say matter of factly.

"Be... what?"

"Beguiled. Charmed, Enchanted. Enraptured. Hypnotized.... All of the above."

"Do you think this is how everyone we hypnotize feels when we use erotic suggestions on them?"

"Probably not like this. That app has some serious mojo."

I explore my emotions, my feelings, trying to make sense of it. 

"So, my cold, hard, logical mind is telling me I should be angry. But I'm not.  Which now makes me wonder if there is some post hypnotic suggestion suppressing my anger. How do you feel?"

Julie swooned, "I think I'm falling for Jeff.  He is so handsome..., and charming and sensitive and, well..., he's a God in bed...."

I opined, "You realize honey, that is not you talking, right? Those are suggestions Jeff or Tim placed in your subconscious."

Julie replied, "You are probably right, but I don't care."

I think about this for a moment. "I don't care either. I really don't fucking care! I just want to feel Tim inside me again."

Wait, what?  "Did I just say that?.... fuck me." 

This goes against every principle I believe in.

I search my memories. I can hear Tim tell us when we were at the bar,... "We are all just biological computers. Gain access to the root directory and you control the subconscious".

And in the next breath, I hear myself saying to Julie "Tim knows what's best for us. We should just call him so he can tell us what to do."

I shake my head. I did NOT just say that!

We agree to stay in touch as I hang up the phone. I'm definitely conflicted. 

I really, really want to see them again. The boys are like a drug. In the back of my mind it feels like we are being taken advantage of. But that can't be. They're both just such giant Teddy Bears.

Chapter 2  Close head injury

Morning of November 17, 2019

The more I try to figure things out, the farther the answers drift away... just out of reach. And then the headache begins. And now I'm horny again.  That's really distracting. Damn. I guess the guys put some mental roadblocks up to keep us from thinking too much about this. I need to talk to my mom or someone I can trust. I feel very uneasy.

I decided to call an old family friend, Jim Fellows. Jim was my dad’s best friend.  When my dad was killed in Afghanistan by a roadside bomb, Jim was there for my mom and our family. We remain close to this day.  In fact, Jim indirectly introduced me to the world of hypnosis and encouraged me along the way. He does some sort of government work and is working with DARPA on ways to influence social opinion. I guess it is like hypnosis, but on a grander scale.

Jim wanted to know how the conference had been.  He knew a little about what I do, but not the full extent... Thank God. I recounted the hypnosis convention and getting to see the brain wave app that was so similar to the device his lab invented. I shared a few details about Tim and Jeff ambush hypnotizing my friend and me. But I wasn't about to mention the sex. I was too embarrassed. Jim figured out there was more to the story. When I mentioned the recent headaches and trouble concentrating, he suggested it might be due to a mental conflict between my conscious and subconscious mind. Why hadn't I thought of that? He asked me to visit him at his lab before I commit to seeing Tim and Jeff again. I agreed..., maybe a bit reluctantly, but I agreed. I thanked him and hung up the phone.

Ruminating on our conversation, I pondered, he wants to make sure that I'm acting and thinking of my own accord.  Fair enough. But I'm a big girl. If I want to have earth shaking sex with someone, that is my choice and my choice alone!

In the meantime, Jim asked me to record everything I could remember in a diary just in case my memory was to start to fade.

That seems like a really good idea now. Everything is still pretty fresh in my mind this instant. I'll tell it like a story. Might as well make it entertaining, right?

November 18

I finished writing part 1 of my adventure last night.  Now I'll reward myself with a hot cup of latte. It's November and cold outside. The window is trying its best to hold back Old Man Winter, but his chill refuses to be ignored. I start a fire in the fireplace and curl up with my favorite Afghan blanket. My laptop beckons me as I decide to look at the video files again. I had copied these files over to the hard drive when I got home. I open the laptop and that's when I discover a secret directory with files numbered 1 to 3. This is new...

I take a sip of my latte and start to open secret file #1 but stop myself.  Do I really want to see another sex video of myself being controlled?  I feel my heart race and a flush in my chest. I'm nothing if not curious, so my decision is a foregone conclusion.

I remember waking up outside. I was laying on the ground next to my mountain bike.  Despite the chill in the air, I was dressed warmly and didn't feel cold.  But my head hurt. Thank God for my helmet. I must have taken a tumble. I picked up my bike and walked it back to the garage. Strange. I was only a few hundred feet from the house.  How did I manage to take a spill before I even got to the mountain trail? I went inside and removed my helmet and sweatshirt.  No visible damage, but the headache told me that something was wrong. I looked over at my laptop.  Sitting next to it was my cup of latte. It was untouched and cold now.  That wasn't like me... to waste a perfectly good cup of Joe. I called for my husband Doug, but then remembered he had left yesterday with our daughter, Celeste, to visit his parents. I shrugged to myself and headed off to bed.

November 19

This morning the headache is gone, but I my head feels thick.. like a waking dream.

I called my mom and told her about my bicycle accident. I think maybe my speech was a little slurred or something. She worried, but I told her I was alright.  Then I got a call from Jim. "No permnent damage" I said. I thought to myself..., "Is it permnent or permanent? Weird."

He asked if I felt well enough to travel. "Travel where?", I asked. He suggested I visit him at his lab to try and figure out what happened when I was ambush hypnotized. Oh yeah. I had totally forgotten about that. I told him I would think about it. But thinking was not my friend right now.  It brought on the headaches. If I was going to finish these diary entries, I needed to get rid of this headache. I took 2 Tylenol and went to lie down.

November 20 I think or maybe the 21st

I fell down and hit my head yesterday or maybe it was two days ago, but I'm ok. I'm supposed to write everything down so I don't forget. Tim called this morning. I miss hearing his voice. He wants to see me and Julie again.  I can't wait.

I think I'm supposed to be writing something here. Like, maybe a diary? It doesnt make cents othwerwise. Not to me anyway. Its been 2 weeks sence I met Tim and Jeff at the conference for the first time. Tim is so dreamy. Even I have trouble beleiving what a lucky girl I am. But it really happened to me and my friend Julie. We met the perfect guys. I just talked to my Tim. I can't hardly wait to see him. He told me what a good girl I am and that I'm his favorite. He said some other words.  I don't remember. I had to go pleasure myself after I talked to him. I imagined being with him. It felt really, really good. 

I'm flying to see our old family friend Jim Fellows told me to write down what happened in a diary. He told me that I might not be able to trust my memories from one week to the next and my story might change and I might not even know I changed it even. My mom is sending him each week's diary so that he can compare these to my final story to determine if I had changed or edited words. That was a hard sentence.  You see, I'm not sure I can trust my memories or even my thinking. I was the victim of secret hypnosis. I think. Yes, I definitely was. If you read my stuff, you know I use lots of big words. That alot harder now. I get these headaches when I try to think. Julie is having headaches too. I think this is called bimbofocation or bimbofornication something like that. Oh yeah. I also hit my head.

November 25

I'm with my mom at Jim's lab. She talked to him on the phone, and they decided I needed to be evaluated. He has all sorts of fancy equipment including an MRI. They were worried that I had hit my head and had 'drain bramage'. That’s a joke.  Obviously, I'm ok. The MRI didn't show any damage.  He did some other tests and told me that I had a phenomenal response to trans cranial magnetic stimulation - that my creativity and imagination were off the scale. I already knew that. He suggested that was the reason I could be hypnotized so deeply. I knew that too. Whatever he did, it lifted me out of the fog, although I don't quite feel 100% yet. After reading my November 20th diary entry.. OMFG!

Jim shared with me a phone call he recorded between myself and Tim. I don't really remember much about the call, but after listening to it, things are starting to make sense. This conversation occurred before I recovered my wits. It's kind of terrifying. He recorded the conversation for the police. I think this is too weird for the police, but maybe they can scare him.

Here is the recorded conversation.

Recorded phone conversation November 23

"Hello, this is Tim"

"Hi Tim. It's me, Lydia.  I miss you so much."

"Hi Lydia.  Did you watch the secret video files on the USB stick as I instructed you?"

"Yes, Tim. I watched it. They are numbered so I can watch them in order without getting confused."

"Good girl. What number are you on now?"

"I finished the first 2 and I'm going to start number 3."

"Good girl. I'm so proud of you for following my instructions. You know you're my favorite girl don't you?"

I started crying. That can be heard on the recording.

"Baby girl, why are you crying?"

"I just miss you so much."

"I'll see you real soon.  Do you remember what to say if someone asks you about your thinking?"

"Yes.  I tell them I fell off my bike and I have a close head injury and it hurt my bility to think."

"Perfect. You remember how to say it exactly as I told you.  You're such a smart girl!"

"You really think so?"

"I do. Jeff and I are driving up to get you Sunday morning. Pack a bag with your sexiest outfits. And for the drive, I want you to put on those sexy exercise tights I saw you wearing in the gym. Thinking about you in them makes me so hot. We will be together real soon."

"Ok. Bye."

"Tim! Wait!

"Yes, what is it?"

"I love you!"

"I love you too baby."

The phone call recording ended. Now, fully aware, I sat back in my chair, pensive. The strong emotional connection I feel to Tim... It's not completely gone. Saying goodbye brought a feeling of sadness to me... even now.

"Jim, I'm still having feelings.  I feel like crying.  What is wrong with me?"

Jim decided I was 'woke' enough that he could share what had happened to me. I'll give him poetic license and allow him, in his words, to explain the technicalities.

Jim begins, "When I spoke to you on the phone, I knew you were compromised. I didn't know if it was the head injury or some subconscious behavior the 'turd twins' had implanted in you. I called your mother and told her to gather you up and fly down to my lab. We have, among other equipment, a functional MRI (fMRI) that we use to fine tune our brain manipulation devices like the TCMS and BWE.  BWE is the brain wave emulator. Our techs call it the hypnobeam. Anyway, we placed you in the MRI donut and performed a complete scan. Your brain showed no evidence of a closed head injury.  By the way, it’s ‘Closed’ head injury, not ‘Close’ head injury.  

The scan was almost normal.  No subdural hematoma, ischemia, swelling or other evidence of trauma, but it was markedly abnormal in one regard. The MRI can identify small changes in blood flow using something called ASL (arterial spin labeling). Couple that with brain oxygen usage - the blood oxygen level dependent (BOLD) effect and we have a microscope into the brain. There are other measures like diffusion tensor imaging (DTI) that map neuronal connections.  In your case you have very robust axonal connections between the various brain resting state networks. That helps explain your superpower imagination, creativity and high intelligence."

I interrupted Jim. "Can you give me the Cliff notes version?"

"Sure. I can take a hint. So here's the deal. Your frontal cortex was dark on the scan. It showed diminished blood flow. Neural activity was also minimal. The salience network, also known as the subconscious, was running the show. No conscious, intelligent discussion in the brain to tell you if a memory was real or imagined... or implanted. Your behavior is governed by the 'id' or subconscious, which is innocent, and childlike without adult supervision (the frontal cortex). The device that Mutt and Jeff used on you effectively induced a permanent state of not just deep trance, but what I would call ‘profound trance’. The headaches were the result of the subconscious down regulating blood flow and oxygen to your conscious mind. When you went to sleep at night, the effects just compounded, becoming more established. That is why it took a few days until you were defenseless and completely at their mercy. What angers me.., well this whole situation angers me, but what angers me the most is the decreased blood flow would have gradually resulted in dissolution of synaptic connections in the frontal cortex. That would mean a permanent lowering of intelligence. We measured your I.Q. at 78 shortly after you arrived.  Don’t be alarmed.  It’s temporary. That low a score makes sense if you have zero analytical function online. As of this morning and following several treatments to reactivate your frontal cortex, it has improved to 124. But I know for a fact that it was 168 just before you went off to Stanford. I'm pretty sure you will be back to the 160s after a few more treatments in the TCMS and BWE."

"That was a lot of information to assimilate", I ventured. "I have one memory of those two that's intact. Tim is a world class dick!"

Jim's eyes were watering. Was he about to cry? "Lydia, you are like a daughter to me. If any harm had befallen you, I would have killed those two shitheads. Mutt and Jeff can't be allowed to get away with this."

Jim chose this moment to broach the subject of what I was doing that might be considered borderline unethical. "Lydia, you do realize I know what you do for a living, right?"

I'm taken aback. "What do you think I do?"

"I know you are a hypnodomme and that you enthralled your husband Doug with hypnosis."

I let that statement sink in, thinking how best to defend myself.

"Doug started out as my thrall. But I love him now. He's my husband. And what he did... he deserved what I did to him."

Jim seemed satisfied with my answer. "I checked on these two through my agency contacts. They are, or should I say they were, engaged in sex trafficking. They hypnotize girls, make them stupid and horny and then sell them for sex. Its different from what the cartels and other sex trafficking operations do. Tim’s girls are willing participants, but only because they have been deeply hypnotized and reprogrammed to serve their masters. 

A skilled hypnotist can bypass one’s normal subconscious defenses and create arousal and desire such that a person wishes to engage in sex. This is different from hypnotic compulsion. Can I compel you to engage in sex? Sure, no problem, but if it is your decision to have sex, of your own volition, then I cannot be accused of a crime. One might argue that the desire did not exist before the subject was hypnotized. That is true. If it is your intent to have sex with a subject, then it is certainly best if you obtain a ‘model release’ before you start the hypnosis session. While the subject is alert and awake, the model release should clearly lay out expectations ahead of time so there is no second-guessing intent after the fact.

I notified local authorities. I will follow up in a few weeks to make sure their operation is shut down and the girls have been set free. These two shit heads are done. Their brain drain app is something else. I hope it never sees the light of day in the Apple App store. It's, I should think, a bit too dangerous to have some pimply faced kid using it on cheerleaders. They were going to add you and Julie to their little harem.  You realize that, right?"

I did realize that. "Jim, you know I have my own little harem of devoted souls, right? Nothing like what you are describing, but I have some thralls whose only desire is to serve me."

"I know that, Lydia.  But I also know you are a good person and the people who follow you are free to leave whenever they choose.  I also know that you have performed small miracles ridding them of neuroses, drug addiction and various other mental afflictions."

That was all true. "So why are you bringing this up?"

"Because what Tim and Jeff did to you and Julie goes beyond unforgivable.  Before your mouth drops to the floor, I watched both video files on your laptop - 'Initial induction' and 'Thanks for the good times".  Don't worry, I diverted my gaze during the heated scenes of passion."

I felt myself blush scarlet.

He continued. "With regards to you and Julie, the police are not going to do anything. For all practical purposes, the video looks like the sexual encounters were consensual.

I squeezed Jim's hand. "Ever heard of ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you? I am going to teach these two a lesson, but I can't do it without your help."

November 27

I'm happy to report all systems are back online. I'm go for launch and back to my old self.  I no longer have any feelings towards Tim or Jeff other than disdain. As it so happens, they are driving up to meet me this weekend.  I'm supposed to accompany them back to their home where I will have the privilege of joining the 'other girls'. Boy do they have a surprise in store for them.

December 4

 

Tim is arriving Sunday to pick me up, ostensibly to transport me to his brothel as a sex worker. Of course, he has no clue I know all about his operation and have recovered my brain. Doug and Jim will be waiting for him.

January 12

Six weeks have passed since my last entry. Things didn’t go as I planned. Tim and Jeff figured out something was up when the local authorities showed up snooping around. The girls, under his tight hypnotic control, did not volunteer that they were being held captive or there was anything wrong.

I remember the day I was taken like it was yesterday. The doorbell rang. It was a delivery driver with a package. I answered the door to sign for the package and that is the last thing I remember. I guess he wasn't a delivery person.

Tim writing

While Lydia still has her mind, I'm having her chronicle her descent into sexual servitude. I will fill in the blanks once she is no longer competent to record her thoughts.

Lydia writing

I began to hear indistinct voices as my vision slowly returned. I was lying on a table, buck naked. An IV was in my right arm and I had a splitting headache. My arms and legs were secured to the frame of the table and Tim and Jeff were standing next to me. Oh fuck me.

Tim began, "The authorities screwed our operations up, but good. Our partners decided we needed to relocate. We had a sweet thing going. Girls cooperating, enjoying sex with Johns and you fucked it up. Our associates wanted to torture and kill you, but I suggested why waste a perfectly good fuck hole. So, guess what's next for you Lydia."

I trembled as I began to consider my predicament. "Please, I have a young daughter. Don't do this."

"A young daughter?" Tim looked over at Jeff. "The youngest we have in our operation is 5 right?"

"No!" I screamed. "Don't you dare!" I felt stinging in my right arm at the IV site and then darkness descending over my vision. Over the next several days I could feel bits of my mind slipping away. I do not know what they were doing to me, but it was getting harder to think. 

On maybe the 2nd or 3rd day of my captivity, I was marched into a room with about 20 other girls. At 25 I was probably the oldest. We were all wearing a uniform of sorts. They were spandex pants or shorts that were about two sizes too small. There was no way to avoid showing your camel toe. The top was also two sizes too small and just barely covered the top of my breasts. The fabric was tight against my nipples and very thin, almost see through. The girls looked to be dazed, like they were in a light trance. I spotted Julie standing off to the side. She looked terrified. Tim walked into the room and addressed us.

"Girls, some of you are new. Some of you are old pros."

Tim directed for everyone to look at me. "Lydia and Julie are our newest members. Please welcome them both."

Everyone said hello in unison, their voices monotone, flat; lacking inflection or apparently any conscious thought. They were robots. Not literally. Was this what was to become of Julie and me?

"All, or most of you girls anyway, have been conditioned to love sex. I am sorry it has been a dry spell. We have a convention in town, and you will get to visit with several lonely businessmen each day for the next week. I am sure you will want to make their visit memorable. Remember to be enthusiastic."

And with that a group of middle aged men were ushered into the room. They began to look us up and down and pair off with the different girls. Tim wandered over to me with a customer. "Lydia, your programming isn't complete yet. I'm making you stupid again, but I didn't have time to finish before this wave of tourists arrived. I'm sure you'll fuck Ralph here silly, won't you?"

Ralph looked to be all of 300 lbs if not more. He had a roll of belly fat hanging over his belt and about three chins. His eyes were barely visible, obscured by fat cheeks and puffy eyes. I wondered if he could even perform sexually, let alone survive it.

"Tim, please, I'm not feeling up..."

Tim writing again

I switched the Brain Drain app on and showed it to Lydia. She is already conditioned to enter trance when I present it to her to watch.

"That's right Lydia. Watch the pretty colors. You feel your mind slipping away, turning off. Your mind is blank. You are a blank slate ready to receive my instructions. You are becoming so aroused. You have been thinking of how good it would feel to have a fat cock in your pussy. You remember it feels so good and how you cum so hard. Think back to a time when you had the most amazing orgasm you have ever had. Ralph is an incredible lover. His fat cock is going to fill you and make you cum like you have never cum before. Your anticipation is building. You desperately want him inside of you. You can almost feel him penetrating you. It feels so, so good. What would you like to do right now?"

"I want to fuck so bad. I want to fuck you Ralph. Please fuck me!"

Tim always made me feel good when he praised me, "Good girl. I'm so proud of you."

Tim spoke into Ralph's ear. "Lydia is conditioned to be very horny and very enthusiastic. You are in for a treat."

Ralph took me by my hand, and we walked back to my bedroom. I was so randy I could hardly stand it. I was out of my shorts and top in an instant and then I hurriedly helped Ralph get his clothes off. This was taking too long. He laid down on his back and I was able to grasp his penis and with a little work make him hard. I was so wet he slipped right in. I bounced up and down on him and within a few minutes I had a loud orgasm. He came quickly too. It was intense. I thanked him for a wonderful time and then lined up for the next batch of customers. I must have fucked 5 different men the first day. After everyone left, Tim came up to me and said, "Remember."

Oh shit. I remember. I still have some semblance of intelligence left. I thought about it. I enjoyed having sex. I wasn't compelled. I'm not happy about it now, but I was when I was with the johns. Did that meet the definition of being sex trafficked? If I was an enthusiastic participant? I was so confused. I went to bed that night and tried to think of what I could do to escape this. But thinking hurts my head. Days went by and I lost track of time. I found that when I obeyed Tim, he would reward me. Sometimes it was a treat like ice cream. If I am a really good girl, he will fuck me. I love being fucked by Tim. He is the best.

Tim typing

Lydia is hopelessly brainwashed now. She loves fucking. I just help pick the right partners for her. I have lowered her IQ to, I estimate, around 90. To think she used to have an IQ in the 160s. Too bad. Fuck with me and you are going to get fucked. At 3 to 5 johns per day for the next 5-10 years, Lydia will bring in close to two and a half million dollars. Then we will sell her to the cartel. Her organs, on the black market, are worth another two or three hundred thousand dollars depending on market conditions. Yes, sex trafficking is very lucrative. Thank God some of our best customers are government leaders. They won't do anything. Unless and until society decides to do something about this, I can only see sex trafficking continue to expand. I guess they need to impose harsh capital punishment against both the operators and the johns. Until that happens, we are untouchable. For every girl rescued, we capture two to add to our coffers.

Lydia typing again

I’m trying to remember who I am. I remember Julie. I spotted her sitting alone and wandered over to her. “What’s up girlfriend?”

Julie looked up at me with sad eyes. “Lydia, we are being sex trafficked. I have been able to resist the hypnotic compulsion for the most part. How are you feeling? Or more importantly, how are you thinking?”

“I don’t think I’m thinking so good. You know hypnosis works really good on me. I was feeling pretty good until you reminded me I’m not thinking right. I have been loving the sex, but is that not my own idea?”

“No, its not. At first I fell victim to the drugs and ‘Brain Drain’ app. I too believed it was my idea to have sex with these strangers, but its not my free will. My subconscious rebelled for want of a better word and I wised up. I am going to hypnotize you and reverse your conditioning, alright?”

I agreed and soon I felt more oriented, although my thinking wasn’t back to 100%. Whatever Tim did to me, his ‘stupid’ trigger has some persistence. Julie came up with a plan to get us out of our predicament. It would require getting a john to help us. It was risky. The john could ignore us or worse, warn Tim or Jeff of our intentions. With Julie’s help, my intelligence slowly recovered. I decided I was our best shot at using a covert induction on a man while he was fucking me. I was better at faking it than Julie. I had a repeat customer I decided I would try to trance. Morris was a big man. Not fat big, but tall and broad with a barrel chest. He was probably a weightlifter when he was younger. Now he was in his 50s or early 60s. He had shared that he was a widower and lonely since his wife passed. When he arrived, I asked him if he could stay for two time slots. I had something special for him. He agreed. The first thing I did was tell him that I had gotten some of my intelligence back so I could talk to him now semi-intelligently. He appreciated that. I asked him to tell me about himself while I took his penis in my mouth and began to play with it. Based on his answers I decided he probably wasn’t an awful human being. I made slow, sensual love to him. He responded as I anticipated and I decided he might be amenable to a relaxation induction.

“Thank you Morris. That was so very nice. I noticed that your neck muscles are very tight. Can I give you my special massage? I promise you will feel like a different person when I’m done.”

Morris agreed. I began methodically kneading his neck and upper back muscles. As I massaged him, I told him to take slow deep breaths. “Very good. Take another deep breath for me. It feels so good to follow my directions because you know everything I say is to help you feel better and more relaxed. You trust me … to help you feel better than you have ever felt. In fact, you almost feel a wave of euphoria wash over you just by following my soothing directions – my directions to help you feel wonderful.”

He succumbed to my trance in short order and I deepened him. “Morris, not all the girls here are here of their own free will. But if they say anything or speak up, they can be harmed or even killed. I know you are a good man, and you would not want such a thing for a fellow human being. You are going to have a strong compulsion when you leave here to contact a man that can rescue us named Jim Fellows. When you do so, you will feel very good about yourself knowing that you have done your part in helping stop human trafficking. You will keep this secret between us until you reach Jim and get help.”

I gave Morris Jim’s phone number. I gently kissed him on the lips and thanked him before bidding him goodbye. Now we waited.

A buzzer rings in the hall when the unoccupied girls are to assemble for customers. I joined the other girls in the lineup. We were wearing our virtually non-existent uniforms when the men arrived. I looked up to see Doug and Jim walking up to each of us to ‘inspect’ the goods. Jim asked me, “are Tim and Jeff here?”

“Yes. They are in the back. There are also two guards.”

“Ok, you and I will pair off and then I will come back in a few minutes and loudly demand my money back. Doug and another man with us have non-lethal weapons to suppress any resistance.”

I walked back to my room with Jim and started to make sounds of passion while I bounced up and down on the bed working the springs. It sounded like he was getting his money’s worth to me. “Ok, Lydia, that’s good enough.”

Jim threw open my door and stormed into the main room. “Hey. I demand my money back! This bitch’s pussy is all used up. Its all stretched out. If I’m paying good money, I want tight pussy!”

Jesus. He was pretty convincing. I started to feel kind of bad about myself. As predicted, Jeff and Tim came out to see what the commotion was about. They were both dispatched with a taser delivering 15 million volts. Likewise, Doug and his companion subdued the guards. We were shuttled to waiting vehicles and made our escape, but not before Tim, Jeff and the guards were secured in plasti-cuffs. Tim and Jeff were hustled into another van, and we began the long trek to Jim’s lab.

Tim is restrained in the same apparatus Jim used on me to help me recover my memories... and my mind. It will be used differently on Tim. Jeff will be dealt with later. I watch Jim as he started an IV. I'm impressed.  He has skills. Jim glanced over at me.

“I am going to infuse a micro dose of LSD and ecstasy into Tim’s IV. Then I'm turning on the brain wave emulator, what you fondly refer to as the hypnobeam and the TCMS helmet. The LSD dose is just high enough to confuse the conscious mind. His subconscious mind will be putty in your hands to mold into whatever form you wish."

I thought about that. "When I program someone, like Doug, it takes months to permanently change their personality. At least subconsciously, they have to be willing participants."

"Months is way too long.  How does hours sound?"

I looked over at Tim.  He was terrified. He couldn't speak because a ball gag was in his mouth, but his eyes were wide as saucers - helped no doubt by the ophthalmic speculum holding his eyes open. I smiled at him. "Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you."

And with that, Jim started the IV drip. The drug cocktail began to work it's magic and I observed Tim's eyes briefly roll back in his head, despite his eyes remaining forced open by the eye speculum. I asked Jim to stop the drip so I could make sure Tim's conscious mind could absorb what I was about to tell him... and so he would know how desperate his situation was. He was drowsy but awake within a few minutes.

"Tim.  I want you to pay attention to me. Close attention. Look up at the light above your head. It's not turned on yet. I call that a hypnobeam. That is what I was told it was called when it was used on me many years ago. It is incredibly powerful. It is even more powerful than your brain drain app. The helmet that is fastened to your head delivers trans cranial magnetic stimulation. Do you remember me talking about that the night you raped Julie and I? And then you made both of us stupid and your whores. I can’t think of anything quite so evil as sex trafficking.”

I paused to consider my last statement. “Well, what I’m going to do to you and Jeff would probably rate as just as evil. I hope God forgives me.”

I continued, "Also, did you really think your "close head injury" con would hold up to scrutiny?... I can hardly forgive you for what you did to us. Well Tim, I'm going to let you experience what it feels like to be my little bitch. You'll soon be the perfect little thrall. Stupid, happy and eager to serve me."

Tim started to struggle against the restraints, his screams and shouts muffled by the gag... his eyes wide in terror. I nodded to Jim to restart the drip. The same process would be repeated with Jeff.

Chapter 3 Dinner Party

March 1, 2020

I'm having a small dinner party outside by our pool for some close personal friends. Coronavirus is all over the news, so this may be the last get together with friends for a while. My friends are probably not like your friends. Generally, they are fellow hypnotists and doms.  Some are into findom, femdom, all the different doms. They are ok with me owning thralls. Hubby Doug is in attendance dressed in a smart blazer with matching trousers.  He looks quite debonair. Julie also flew in for the occasion.  She is completely back to normal and grateful to me for saving her from the evil clutches of the dynamic duo.

I only have two thralls in attendance this evening. Tim and Jeff. They are wearing matching tuxedo tops. But they seem to have forgotten their trousers... oops... and under pants. At least they remembered their socks and polished black cap toe shoes. They are holding trays and walking among the guests serving aperitifs. Julie has already shared the story of the diabolical ruse they perpetrated on the two of us.  There is no remorse or pity for their plight. 

I tap a wine glass to get everyone's attention.

"Tonight, I will demonstrate to my special guests the absolute dominion I exercise over these two rapists and sex traffickers. Now, proper revenge requires the slaves to know what is happening to them. Humiliation works best if they are awake and aware of everything and are unable to do anything to save themselves. It is even better when they bring the humiliation upon themselves. With that introduction, I shall begin. Boys, did you drink the large glasses of water I gave you?"

"Yes master" they intone in unison. 

"And now you have the urge to pee. Now I want you to freeze in place."

I walk behind each man to position him so he is facing our guests. They are standing over the grass, so as not to make a mess on the pool deck. "Everyone, please stand far enough back so that you don't get splashed."

Then I give them a simple command I've programmed into their subconscious. "Aware!".

I imagine a computer rebooting as Tim comes back online... his sudden, surprised awareness. Tim looks over at Jeff and then down and realizes he is naked below the waist.  But he is frozen in place, his arms at his sides.  Modesty is not an option.  Jeff meantime is trembling. Poor Jeff. He should never have allowed himself to be in cahoots with Tim.

I start with Jeff. "Jeff listen to me carefully. Your bladder is so full it feels like it is about to burst. It hurts, doesn't it?"  He nods. "And you can't stop it. Your bladder is contracting, and you feel yourself starting to pee, but I want you to try and fight it. Try as hard as you can, but the harder you try, the more it comes."

A small dribble escapes from his penis. He is semi-erect as he tries to fight the urge.  I guess that is how men hold their bladders?  But he is fighting a losing battle. The urine comes in fits and spurts until he can no longer contain it and it gushes forth full force. Jeff looks ahead unflinching, daring not to acknowledge any of the guests who are softly chuckling at his plight. A solitary tear rolls down his cheek. I almost feel bad for him. Maybe I'll wipe his memory and let him return to his prior life. Nah, not gonna happen.

I move on to Tim. "Hi Tim.  How's that erotic hypnosis going for ya?  Hypnotized and raped any girls lately? Oh, and too bad about the brothel. I bet your cartel friends are furious with you."

Tim looks straight ahead, his jaw set in obvious rage. "Tim, I remember your penis as being so much bigger. Was that my imagination?  I guess I am pretty suggestible.  You didn't suggest to me that you had a big Johnson did you?  Because that would be a real stretch... of my imagination and your little pencil dick."

I lift up his limp noodle to show everyone. "Isn't it cute? So itty bitty."

Tim makes the unfortunate mistake of speaking out, "Cunt!"

"Tim, Tim, Tim. Such a mouth. I hate that word.  I really do.  What should your punishment be?  Oh, I know. Do you recall the chocolate I gave you to eat earlier? Well, it wasn't chocolate... chocolate flavored maybe, but not chocolate. Do you notice how your stomach is rumbling? I know that's what my stomach does if I take a laxative. Unfortunately for you, you're frozen in place. Its going to be awfully embarrassing peeing and pooping yourself in front of all my guests."

I watch as beads of sweat form on his brow. "The urge to empty your bladder and bowels is just growing too strong.  The cramps are really starting to hurt.  Do you notice that? Oh, oh. I don't think you are going to be able to hold it much longer.  In fact, I bet on the count of 3 it just starts gushing out. What do you think?  No need to answer. That was a rhetorical question. Ready? 1,...2,...3. Let er rip."

And with that the rectal sphincter muscles relax, and liquid stool begins streaming down his legs onto his socks and shoes. Doug's 'small' fire hose lets loose almost simultaneously.  "Thar she blows!" I exclaim laughing.  Unable to move, he stands there while the guests clap. I take a bow.

Julie walks over to me and says, "I have a gift for Tim.  But you might want to knock him out first."

My curiosity piqued, I touch Tim's forehead and command, "Sleep Now!". Down he goes. 

I watch amused as Julie saunters over to Tim and instructs him to get on all fours. His bottom side is a mess. Too bad for him. She leans over and says something to him. He is obliged to obey commands from either of us. He is soon groveling at her feet, kissing and licking her pumps. And then Julie has another surprise.

"I have a tasty treat on the bottom of my shoe for you pet", she entreats. She lifts the sole of her shoe to his face and politely asks him, "Please do me the courtesy of cleaning this tootsie roll off the bottom of my shoe."

She steadies herself on my arm as we both look down at the pitiful sight. Tim is soon using his mouth and teeth to scrape off whatever is on the bottom of her shoe and then funneling it into his mouth to chew and swallow it.  He seems to be enjoying himself. He continues licking any remaining residue until the shoe is clean.

I look at her questioningly.

"What?", she asks innocently. "I stepped in some dog shit.  You didn't want me to track it into the house did you?"

3 months later

Tim and Jeff are good pets. Mindless and obedient, just the way I like them. We have a routine. I feed them a bowl of Alpo or dry dog food each morning, then walk them and let them do their business in the yard. I live on a small ranch in Colorado, so we do not have to worry about nosy neighbors. They spend their evenings in a kennel with other dogs. When there is work to do, I release them from doggie servitude and make them stupid male drones. Free manual labor is great. Illegals cost $25/hour! I can tell you, having male drones is the way to go. It cost me only $40 a week in dog food and a cage in the kennel. I guess I’m the one engaged in human trafficking now… Well, at least I’m not using them for nonconsensual sex. Tim's penis is much too small for that!

FIN

---------------

This story is an indirect exposé on sex trafficking. It is better you get off on the story than off on some hapless victim of sex trafficking. Estimates of girls and boys involved in sex trafficking varies anywhere from 4 million to as high as 40 million worldwide. This is a blight on humanity. Organizations in the U.S. tasked with bringing awareness and combating this disease include https://www.childwelfare.gov/organizations/?CWIGFunctionsaction=rols:main.dspList&rolType=Custom&RS_ID=57 

Agape International Missions is a good org outside the U.S.

I love to hear feedback. Please let me know what you think, good and bad.  I can be reached at privateacct4578@gmail.com

Love and sweet creams,

Lydia

Beguiled is one of my favorite stories. It explores the question; is hypnotic compulsion a form of coercion? If so, and it is used to compel sexual acts with a subject, is it considered nonconsensual? The answer is probably yes. If hypnosis is used to compel sex acts with multiple people or the same person multiple times, then it meets the definition of sex trafficking. But what if the subject chooses to engage in sex of their own volition? That is consensual, right? Maybe, maybe not. When hypnosis is used to ‘seduce’ the subconscious mind, and to obtain consent 'after the fact', then you are walking a very fine line.

x2

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