I was getting so tired of the mind games. My best friend, Julie Adams, and I, are both hypnotists. We seem to derive some sick pleasure from embarrassing each other with various hypno-pranks. I have hooks in her subconscious, and she has hooks in mine. We agreed to a truce - an uneasy détente that I hoped would hold. Julie had written a story with a command trigger that I read and, unbeknownst to my ‘conscious mind’, caused me to send pictures of myself masturbating to readers that used a certain trigger word in emails to me. A negative hallucination was part of the trigger.
A negative hallucination is a real thing. Google it.
I only became aware of what I was doing because a reader informed me. Julie started the hypno-pranks. I was ending them. I had a similar trigger in her that compelled her to email compromising pictures of herself to fans of her work. I had recently hypnotized her at my Colorado home, convincing her subconscious that it was ok to masturbate in front of me while I took photos of her pleasuring herself. I’m quite adept at circumventing subconscious defenses. I air dropped the pictures from my phone to her phone. Julie became aware she was emailing naked pictures of herself after a reader warned her. She was not at all happy with me and escalated our little hypno-war. So, I implemented phase 2 of my plan to get even. I managed to install a recurring trigger that reactivated the original trigger each morning upon awakening. It was inevitable that she would discover the trigger each day as new, unwary readers alerted her to the nude photos. The reactivation script made her unaware, so she would resume sending nude pictures of herself if given the correct command trigger in an email. It was a neat trick, and I was proud of myself for figuring it out. Julie had her own set of various mind traps that she threatened to ‘activate’ in me if I kept it up. I probably would need to erase all post hypnotic suggestions I had given her or live the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. Besides, Julie was a dear friend and I missed her. I didn’t like the fact that I had to block her.
Well, the past weeks’ fun and games were water under the bridge. My husband Doug had arranged for him and me to have a romantic spa weekend. I was looking forward to some R&R. The Broadmoor was just what I needed. Facials, massage, healthy dining. He was such a sweet husband. Women should learn hypnosis if for no other reason than to compel good behavior in their spouse. Doug was a bad boy when I met him, but he soon fell victim to my wiles. He worships me and is at my beck and call. And he loves it. Servitude with a smile.
Maybe I should teach classes. I have a lot of knowledge that I could impart. Ok, I’ll share a couple nuggets of wisdom. If you want to be a kick ass hypnotist, first, learn a couple basic rapid induction techniques. Know how to do them in your sleep, without having to think about what you are going to say. That means, practice, practice, practice - in front of a mirror if necessary. My two personal favorite visualizations are the balloon levitation and the hand clasp. My gravity drop is also pretty good. These can be introduced to your subject as a suggestibility test, and they are that, but they are also a powerful precursor to a covert induction. The full induction scripts can be found in my various stories. Second, and the most important, is to understand the Mandel triangle ( https://youtu.be/XMtiIW4Aawc ). If you know your shit and you convey that confidence to your target, you are already halfway to a successful hypnotic induction.
So, back to me. I want to relax. This is my weekend. No emails. No phone calls. No worries. Doug and I arrived at the resort. We checked in and got the cardkey to our room. Doug had a bottle of chardonnay and a vase of roses waiting for me in the room. He had everything planned out. We would start with a zipline adventure over Seven Falls, then a 5-mile hike before returning to the hotel for lunch.
The zipline was exhilarating. I have a mild fear of heights, but Doug was able to calm my nerves and off I went through the air. The scenery was breathtaking. This is not an advertisement for the Broadmoor, but it might as well be. It was altogether a perfect morning. The hike was equally beautiful. It was of moderate difficulty. There were a lot of up and down trails and switch backs. Not something I would recommend if you are not in good shape. We got back in time for lunch. Fish and chips. Not exactly haute cuisine, but a favorite of mine.
We returned to the room for quick showers. We did not want to go to our afternoon massages stinky. The receptionist greeted us and had us sign in. They had a nice exercise facility and quite a few clients with satisfied smiles on their faces as they departed the facility. I was given a quick tour, shown the changing area and given a key for my personal belongings. Doug’s masseuse was Ingrid. Do people still name their kids Ingrid? I imagined a woman in her mid-forties, roly-poly, with big muscular hands and an accent. My masseur had a similar foreign sounding name - Marcelo. He was from Brazil and had a sexy accent. I was a sucker for foreign accents.
Marcelo ushered me into a quiet, darkened room and instructed me to disrobe and climb under the sheet, lying face down on the massage table. He, of course, left the room while I disrobed to afford me some privacy. Quiet music played in the background. I have had massages before, and I always feel the slightest angst stripping naked with nary a sheet to hide the pretties.
Marcelo knocked on the door and I told him to come in - I was under the sheet. My face was cradled in a ‘donut’ kind of pillow that was open in the middle so that I could see the floor. He pulled the sheet down to the small of my back. I then felt warm oil dribbled onto my shoulders and mid back. Strong hands began to work their magic. I felt like I was sinking into the table. I was so relaxed. I think I may even have fallen asleep briefly. After he was finished with my back, shoulders and neck he moved to my legs. He poured warm oil on my calves and feet and worked the muscles with his magic fingers. He was a master. He must have sensed I was tense because he had been speaking to me in a very low, relaxing voice. I had to concentrate on what he was saying because of the accent.
“You must to relax for me Lydia.” His English wasn’t perfect, but with big, strong hands and a buff physique, I could forgive that. “Completely let go. Let every muscle go loose. Nothing matters but my voice. I bringing you peace and such deep, perfect relaxing.”
I was so relaxed; nothing did matter but his voice. His perfect voice with his perfect accent. He had me part my legs slightly as he worked the muscles of my upper thigh. I realized I had closed my eyes. I think they had rolled into the back of my head. Wow. I really was relaxed.
He started above the knee of my left leg and while pressing firmly, traveled up my leg to the upper thigh. He repeated this on the right leg. This went on for several minutes. It was slightly sexual, and I realized I was becoming aroused. Then his firm grip massaging the inner thigh of both of my legs. And I realized my legs were more widely apart—more than when he started, I thought. He did one thing that I had not experienced before in a massage. While holding my upper leg firmly, he very rapidly shook/vibrated the muscles. This had an unusual, pleasurable side effect. The vibration transmitted up to the nerves in my clitoris and caused them to become ever so slightly stimulated. Wow.
I put my hand down to stop him. “Marcelo, please. That is too intense.”
Fortunately, he shifted gears and was back again to massaging my thighs. Although slightly aroused, I was relaxed enough to close my eyes and just enjoy the massage.
I drifted off briefly and then something got my attention. Did he just brush against my ‘nether’ region? And what did he just say? “You are wet for me Lydia.” I realized that I was indeed wet. Very wet. Then I wondered, did I just hear him correctly? Why doesn’t it seem to matter to me that he is saying this?
After that I must have fallen asleep. I had the most remarkable dream. I dreamed that Marcelo had hypnotized me and was controlling me. I always struggle to remember my dreams and this one was no different. I could feel him pounding me from behind. I remember how hot I was. It was a really good sex dream. It was over too soon. I awoke and he was instructing me that I was to get dressed.
I don’t remember a time I was this relaxed. Every muscle felt like rubber. I found I became slightly dizzy upon standing. I put on my robe and returned to the ladies dressing room. Fortunately, there was complimentary toothpaste, toothbrushes, and mouthwash. I rubbed my tongue over my teeth. I thought or imagined that I tasted semen in my mouth - I guess from Doug? Wait, I was trying to remember. Did Doug and I have oral sex before I came down to the spa? I don’t remember that. I was just too relaxed to think about it.
After brushing my teeth, I found an empty shower. I stepped in and realized I had something running down my leg mixing with the massage oil on my skin. I reached down and sampled the discharge. It was milky white, and I was pretty sure it was sperm. Did Doug and I have sex before we came down to the spa? I just couldn’t remember. Everything was a fog. I showered and got dressed. Doug met me in the lobby. He had a happy smile on his face. “Was Ingrid good for you?” I enquired smiling.
“Ya, she was goot.” he said naughtily. As if on cue, Ingrid strolled into the lobby to bring back an older couple for their massages. She was not roly-poly. She was more like some Austrian Olympian. She was a big, muscular woman. Not an ounce of fat. She was beautiful and I felt a tad envious. And then she winked at Doug and patted him on the back. That was inappropriate I thought.
The spa had a small seating area where clients can get some lime water after the session. Rehydration is a good idea after a deep massage. We sat down to drink our waters. I looked at Doug inquisitively, “Did you get the deluxe package?” I asked him.
“Honestly I do not remember. She started massaging my shoulders and before long, I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. It was that good. I fell asleep and woke up at the end. If I had tense muscles, I don’t any longer. I did have an odd sex dream though come to think of it.”
“Oh shit”, I thought to myself. “And what was that?” I asked.
Doug was my husband, but he was also deeply under my hypnotic control. He could not lie or withhold anything from me. He went on to describe his dream. “I imagined that Ingrid was stroking my penis and I couldn’t help myself - I developed a raging erection. I remember her bouncing up and down on me. Then I remember she was standing, and I was kneeling before her and eating her out and then darkness, nothing.”
“I had a similar dream about my masseur, Marcelo. This is too strange to be a coincidence”, I told him. “Let’s get out of here.” We stood and as we turned to leave, I saw Marcelo and Ingrid had walked over to us.
They both smiled warmly. Ingrid began, “We just wanted to say thank you. That was a very nice treat for us. Your lady friend Julie was right. You both went into hypnosis with the massage and the secret word. You were both very... ‘compliant’.” Ingrid winked at Marcelo.
Secret word? What secret word? Julie gave her some secret trigger word?
Ingrid motioned for us to follow her to an unoccupied massage room. Of course, we both complied. Waiting in the room was an older couple. They were wearing spa bathrobes and I presumed they were naked underneath, preparing for their massages. The man was probably 50 with a deeply receding hairline. He appeared otherwise trim and fit. His wife was probably quite attractive in her younger years but was moderately obese now. She also looked to be in her late 40s or early 50s. Ingrid reached down and unzipped Doug’s pants. He didn’t seem to mind. Marcelo did the same to me and we were both soon standing naked. I remember wondering about this, but decided we were at a health spa, so it was perfectly normal. The man had me take him in my mouth and as I sucked vigorously, I saw Doug sinking his face into the lady’s snatch. I needed to focus on my job - the penis in my mouth. I was pretty good at giving head and the man seemed to appreciate my efforts. I searched my mind. Is this ok? Before I could consider all the possibilities, the man started groaning loudly. I almost choked as he launched thick ropes of jism into the back of my throat. I swallowed, of course, and it tasted good.
While I licked my lips, I had a moment to consider our situation. Am I hypnotized? I wasn’t sure. I felt a little confused - kind of like how I feel when I take ketamine. Do they offer ketamine at this spa? That would be awesome.
My thoughts were interrupted by the lady client. She let out a howl as she orgasmed to Doug’s expert tongue massage. The man and woman had scarcely recovered when Ingrid led Doug to a massage table and had him lie down on his back. The older woman climbed onto the table straddling him as Ingrid guided his penis into her. She was soon rocking it down. Marcelo had me climb on top of the man and I found myself impaled on his happy stick. I rocked my pelvis, matching his thrusts and soon felt him shooting his load a second time - this time into my vagina. All in all, it was quite pleasurable. When they were done, Doug and I stood by idly while the man paid Ingrid and Marcelo several hundred dollars. It seemed to be a lot more than what a massage should cost. They dressed and thanked Ingrid and Marcelo.
We departed the lobby and returned to our hotel room. Doug looked over at me and asked. “That was strange, right? Massages don’t cost $500. Am I missing something?”
“I’m not sure. I mean, I am grateful that Ingrid and Marcelo let us have sex with that couple. We did that of our own free will of course. The amount of money paid does seem very odd though, doesn’t it?” As I thought about this, I suddenly felt very sleepy and decided the mystery would have to wait until after I took a nap. Doug apparently thought it could wait too as he was already snoring lightly.
We awoke a few hours later. We still had time to shower and get ready for dinner. We made our 8pm reservation and sat down to a nice meal. I was ravished. I was on my third glass of wine when my phone rang. We had planned on no phones for the weekend, but it was Julie, so I decided to answer it. “Hi Julie”
“Hi Lydia, are you feeling compliant?”
“Yes, definitely. We are having so much fun. The guests here are very friendly. The spa staff is allowing us to have sex with the customers.” I heard myself say that. It sounded strange to me. "Julie, does it sound strange to you that we are having sex orgies with spa customers?" Julie reassured me it was perfectly normal, then said something else. I don’t recall what. Probably the alcohol clouding my thinking. I do remember passing my phone to Doug. He spoke to Julie briefly. He was strangely quiet. We had a busy day planned for tomorrow, so I suggested we head to bed and get some well-deserved rest. Julie sent a text to my phone. It was our new schedule for tomorrow, and it was packed. We were scheduled to be in the spa all day. I looked over at Doug. He was resting his eyes. Probably tired from the massage. They take it out of you. I shook his arm and startled him. “Did you drift off to sleep? We are at dinner you know. No more wine for you.” Then I thought to add, “Even though we have this truce, I think Julie might be up to something.”
Doug replied, “I dunno. I feel fine. I think you are being paranoid.”
I suggested, “Perhaps. However, my spidey sense is tingling. I think Julie has some tricks up her sleeve… or maybe she’s just turning tricks?"
Doug laughed, "So you think we are the tricks? Don't be ridiculous."
I wondered out loud. "I guess you're right." It was Doug and my idea to have sex with as many different spa customers as possible during our remaining stay. It was a spa orgy holiday. Our idea. We owned it. I smiled at my husband, “Thank you for this wonderful weekend.” And with that I suggested we sign the check and retire to our room. We had a busy day of fucking scheduled. We would need all our energy reserves for tomorrow.
I end this story with a poem by Julie
Not a pretty poem, but it’s very deep...
just like my trances. ;)