“Hi everyone. This pretty young thing is Lydia.” My male friend was embarrassing me.
”She has this unusual superpower. She can take control of any male and turn him into her personal plaything. Bend his will to her own.”
A colossal man was apprising me, smiling to himself. “So, you think you can control me little girl? You know my superpower? I'm the man of steel. You might bend my will, but not my willy. My junk is made of steel."
This one has got a brain I thought to myself. And an oversized ego. "A willy of steel? What happens to Willy when I pull out my kryptonite?
"I'm impervious to kryptonite. All kryptonite does is make my junk spew hot magma."
"You are one cunning linguist."
"Yes, that too."
I surveyed my mark. He was an impressive figure. A Stanford tight end, easily 6’5” and 250 lbs and probably under 10% body fat. And very smart, but not wise in the ways of mind manipulation.
My friend decided to chime in. ”Sam, Lydia here has a way of ‘influencing’ men to her way of thinking. I have seen her do it at parties. She can take a cocky male like you and have you kneeling before her and licking her feet.”
”I’d like to see that.” Sam was not impressed. “Perhaps I’ll have her kneeling before me before the evening is over, licking my cock.”
”Wow.” I said. “Not one to mince words are you?”
”So what is this contest of wills?”
”How about a staring contest? We look into each other’s eyes. Whoever blinks first or diverts their gaze loses.”
”Sounds reasonable. What do I get if I win?”
”You get 15 minutes to give it your best shot at seducing me. And if I win, I get 15 minutes to take you deep into relaxation so that I can have my way with you. Do you have any STDs or anything for me to worry about?”
My allusion to sex by way of asking him about STDs was designed to illicit an emotional, ‘arousal’ response. He responded as expected with a wide grin.
”No STDs. It sounds like I win even if I lose. The only thing you might need to worry about is the size of my cock. Shock and awe to the unwary.”
"I'll be careful." Oh brother. I was going to enjoy putting this big motherfucker in his place. We pulled two chairs together facing each other and sat down. “Sit comfortably and take a deep breath. Look into my eyes Sam. Look no where else. I will do the same. Good.”
He was following my directions. This was probably not fair. I was in a battle of will and wits with a mental featherweight. The male human brain weighs all of 3 lbs. I call that pretty light. Not that he was stupid. He was at Stanford after all, but he had no idea of what I was capable of. He was hopelessly unprepared for what I could and would do to him.
I instructed him. “We will each take a slow deep breath and allow ourselves to relax. By relaxing, you are more easily able to maintain your focus and not blink.”
He complied. He didn’t recognize where I was going with this. “Another slow, deep breath. Good. I imagine your deltoid muscles must be very strong. As a football player, they must be strong for you to be able to lift your arms and block your opponents.”
”Yeah. Are you just making conversation or are you going somewhere with this?”
”I just want to see who can focus better, me or you. I doubt you can focus so carefully on my eyes, trying not to blink, that you become unaware of everything else in the room.”
”I can do that. I have excellent focus.”
”What about your imagination? Can you imagine something I suggest without losing your concentration? While still maintaining focus - staring into my eyes?”
Can you imagine the deltoid muscles in your arms have enough strength to cause your arms to feel lighter than air as they float up on their own? Keep your focus on my eyes or you lose our bet.”
He nodded yes. “Imagine your arms becoming lighter and lighter and just wanting to float up all on their own. If you have the imagination you say you do, then this should be easy without having to divert your attention. Or is that too difficult for you?”
”I can imagine it.”
”Take a deep breath again and slowly let it out. I will do the same as we allow ourselves to relax.”
His eyelids had drifted a notch lower. He was following my instructions perfectly without the realization that I was now communicating directly with his subconscious. That is what intense focus is all about. I noticed the room had become deathly quiet. I could tell from my peripheral vision that his arms were beginning to float up and would soon be above his head.
Focus on my words. Your arms are becoming lighter than air. They are floating up all by themselves. And as they float up, you are feeling very relaxed. It feels so good to sink into my voice. Sink into my words. You feel a wave of euphoria washing over you as you follow my directions. Following my directions. That is all that matters. Following my directions. Letting yourself relax. Feeling so good. Arms becoming lighter and lighter. Floating up. Now you will notice where your arms are. You are surprised that they floated up without any conscious effort.
And now they are starting to slowly float back down. Slowly. As they float back down, you are becoming so, so relaxed. As soon as they reach your sides you will enter deep trance. You will stop reading and email me at LydiaaSalia@gmail.com how much you enjoyed entering trance for me. Then you will masturbate for me and tell me about it in a subsequent email. You will feel so free, so wonderful after obeying me. So good. I am so proud of you. Now, if it's safe and convenient, you will take a nap for me. When you awaken later this will all seem like a dream. You will not be certain if it really even happened. Time to go nighty-night.