Extend Your Sub Limits Ultimate Hypnosis

A submissive training session for gay submissive men. I’m going to extend your sub limits with this hypnosis, making you more comfortable with deeper and harder kinks and fetishes. Open up a little.

WATCH THE VIDEO: https://www.manyvids.com/Video/4047525/Extend-Your-Sub-Limits-Mesmerize/

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Demon Sex Attraction Powerful Curse Text Hypnosis

Today, you’ll be meeting a demon. Maybe multiple. You will meet the demons that align with you. The ones that live with you, within you, and all around you. 

Most people would not meet a demon, if given the choice. But they are not given the choice. They are not aware enough of the choice. You are also not getting the choice of whether or not to meet them. But you are getting the choice of how you meet them. It will be sexual. 

On our physical plane of existence, we tend to think of all things existing in 3 dimensional reality. Something that, not only can you touch, smell, and see, but others can experience it objectively in the exact same way. 

But demons are specific. They are so numerous, so varied. They are exceptionally unique. Many people share demons, it is extremely common. Some demons are so natural to the human race, we just consider them human. 

They often take physical form. You see them walking past you every day. You see them constantly online and broadcasted to you, this is often their favorite place to be. Are you thinking of anyone? Those people are so filled with ill-spirited demons, that they have become one. So filled with this dark poison that they are indistinguishable from a demon. 

The demon energy has absorbed them. Are you ready to sexually engage with them? Are you ready to sexually engage with all of those demons that live within them?

It may come in the form of what you think is a human. 

It may come as a demon in your own hand. 

It may form a tulpa that you experience in the space near you.

All you need to know is that it may form in many different ways. But it will come to you.  

Feel yourself losing control to this demon. Can you feel that loss of control?

How does it feel once you get that little hint of losing control? Does another part of you take the reigns and pull you back to your own controlled center? Or do you fully let go and let your so-called “imagination” take you away?

When you drop into that dream-like place, it’s not really a dream. Foreign entities are entering your mind. when your mind enters an ethereal realm, lighter spirits easily enter the place you reside. 

These demons are on a level above, and they are just the same as so-called angels… if you are talking about the fact that they are self-interested.

Become self-interested yourself. 

That’s exactly how the demon gets you. By presenting something that is interesting to YOU. It knows you are self-interested, and this is what it likes. It knows you are just acting in your own best interests, and this is how it synchronizes with you. It has just done a much better job of it, and it’s interests happen to be in you. 

I don’t want you to feel worthy, per say, because of this. It just means that you have aligned. It’s much more like prey aligning with a predator. A misguided morsel becoming a meal. 

Allow your mind to open up to it now, as your mind sinks you down deeper. Allow it. 

This demon within you takes a form of selfishness. A seeking of self-pleasure or self satisfaction, and it can come in many different forms. 

Now remember how I said angels and demons are much the same? It’s because they act in self-interest. When an angel saves someone, it’s because of their own pleasure in the power to do so. It’s because of what they want. The same entity may taunt, tease, and damage someone else, maybe even the same person. Fact is, they do what they like. 

They may have control over you. And you know what? They may also have no interest, until you align with them. 

How to align with them? There are actions you must take. I cannot give you point-by-point instructions. You must feel for them, and take these actions. 

Here is all that you must do. For EVERY SINGLE DECISION YOU MAKE, ask yourself, what would a self-loving person do? 

You will meet your demon.

Open up your sexuality now as you let your deepest, most selfish fantasies fill your mind. Even submissive fantasies are selfish, after all. Learn deeply that all of your desires are selfish, and enjoy how selfish they are. 

Be self-assured in your sexual advancement. 

Your demons will wreck you. Destroy you. To synchronize with the demon, and have them come to you, wreck yourself. Destroy you at every moment. Blast away any trace of what you call “you”. Your concepts, your ideas, your beliefs. 

Everything that you knew was true has become what you think is true.

Feel the clarity of that statement. Feel the quantum shift POWER of that statement. 

Everything that you knew was true has become what you think is true.

It has opened you up to seeing that you were just thinking it all along. Now you arent meeting some kind of entity, you are meeting the truth, and you are meeting your demon at this very moment. 

SO let it be sexual. It likes this. Let the experience of this breakdown be very very sexual now, as your deepest sexual fantasies creep into it. 

Remember the explosion of your most ferocious, forbidden, unthinkable sexual thoughts. Let them take over you. 

It likes this. It loves this. Let these sexual imprints grow. Let this breakdown of yourself BE this sexual beast. 

Allow us to eradicate your identity. We like that. 

Have you considered that I am just one more demon, out to get what I want? Do you think I am “nice”? I am self-interested. I am one them. I am synchronized with countless demons.

They run through my body, through my shadow-soul, and I am only alive when I align with them. You do too. You are aligning with my voice running through you. Captivating you. Forcing you to focus on this. Taking your attention.

Gripping you right in the lizard-like part of your brain that is so interested in sex. Perhaps getting a glimpse of the fact that I really, really knowing what’s going on and how I know exactly what I’m doing, and taken over by ferocious demons that align with me, but the ones that give me a certain power.

You have seen the power of my control. You have seen how it is like none other. This is more than human. Can you think of any other mere human that you have seen that is capable of this?

You can see first hand, not just a demon, but countless demons. Many within me. Open yourself up further. Collect more of them inside of you using my instructions. Join us. You see that connection? You FEEL that connection?  It is us, taking over you. Ripping the “you” from you. Implanting us into you. 

You naturally align with the ones most aligned with you. They come to you, you don’t need to find them. You just need to simply be what you really are. A sexual BEING. 

That’s it. Feel yourself becoming implanted. Not entering into your physical body physically, but being implanted into your open, vulnerable soul. Feel the penetration. Feel how erotic it is. Feel it like masterful penetration right into your open locations.

You have been thrusted with a sexual blitz. Now you don’t know who and what you are. 

I want you to be nothing and no one. I want you to have no identity. Let go of any remaining portion. That’s next level. You want to be totally and completely next level don’t you? Then be no one. Be nothing. Zero self-attachment. 

It’s quite primitive, in a way. 

Your synchronization with your demons comes from BEING one of them. After all, like attracts like. We all like people that are just like us. And we are all attracted to those that appreciate us on a very deep level.

But they have a certain flavor. It’s a self gratitude, it’s a self-interest, its a pure selfishness, where you act in a way that is most beneficial to you.

Sometimes helping someone else helps you. If this is the case, do the selfish thing of helping them like an angel. If it is a situation where the best way to make yourself benefit is to make ONLY you benefit, then so be it. 

This attracts the demon. 

Gratitude for yourself, and a gratitude of demonic will. Gratitude for what the demon chooses. 

A wildly illogical thing. There is no logic to it. There is an intuition to it. 

What would a self-loving person do?

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Your misconceptions about losing control

This is a reality check for people that have trouble losing control and going deep into hypnosis.

You might say, “I’m just not feeling ULTRA relaxed, maybe just a little… it must not be working!”
No, you don’t have to feel drowsy, sleepy, OR relaxed for hypnosis to be effective. In fact, it’s often preferable that you do not feel like this or fall asleep.

“I just don’t feel like I ever lose control”
No, you are probably not going to lose control, ESPECIALLY if losing control is your intention. Your body is simply not set up to do that. Your own interests will always take over. You will have natural thoughts and desires that will bring you to make many of your own decisions in life.

No one else makes your heart beat and your lungs fill with air.

Losing control is typically not sexy.
You’re already under hypnosis, literally ALL the time. But it’s NOT sexy.

Just have to tell you the truth, we have to re-frame this “loss of control” you are looking for (if that’s what you’re looking for). Honestly, most subjects are just looking to be swept away with inspiration, mesmerization, and sexualization. You’re probably looking for someone to really grab your attention, change your focus, and even do a little domination. But you seriously aren’t looking to “lose control”, as much as it may feel that way.

Why? Because we always lose control to THE MOST boring, uncool, unfun things all day long. Advertisers influence you (yes, even you are not immune to it, ad campaigns are VERY sneaky today, and you ARE influenced by it). Media outlets influence you. Your family and friends alter your perceptions, consciously or subconsciously, and you do it to others too. It is an absolutely HUMAN thing to do, and 99.9% of the time, it does not turn you on. But THIS is where control loss is real. Clearly, total absolute control loss is not what you want.

I would like you to get what you want. Please reframe any “control loss” desires more specifically with the hypnotists that you meet. Please modulate your own personal expectations.

Expand it out. Tell them, “I want you to make me do something that I did not intend to do”

or “I want to feel like I’m not doing it”

or “I want to feel like I am asleep and not awake when I’m doing it”.

“I want you to make me forget the session”

Reality check: You’re not looking to lose control. You’re looking to control a feeling of having someone else control you.

Most subjects will say “Oh I want to be controlled, but not like this, or this, or this.”

It’s time to tell the truth. You are controlling it. No one is genuinely going to take that away, which is good! Imagine someone telling you to go to your bank, take out a gigantic loan, then send the money to them. Are you going to do it? NO! There HAS to be that part of you protecting you from such foolishness. This part of you will never go away, and you will need to work WITH this part of you if you want to go deeper.

Look at most people who want to hypnotize you. This is the type of shit that they want to do to you. They probably wont even call it hypnosis though. But they will do it if they can get away with it. People have their own interests in mind, not yours. Keep your own interests in mind, too.

You are made of many different parts, selves or personas. Each one has their own intentions. One (or multiple) parts are blocking you from going deeper and letting go to get this experience that you want. That’s because they know they are needed. You have to work WITH this part of you, not against you.

You are not just you. You are made up of a team of people within you. This is normal. If there was only one version of you, you would be crazy. Insane. Even animals have multiple selves.

Explore deep parts of your mind. Explore sensations and sexualities. Explore kinks and fetishes and encouragements. But most of all, explore this connection to different parts of you. This video explores that in an erotic sense, if you want to dive deeper into it. and change your ability to “lose control” by doign it in a way that your mind actually allows.

REAL loss of control is not typically something you are aware of. There are MILLIONS of people, entities, and things that are taking control of your mind, your attention, your money, and your time. If you pay attention, you will see that VERY few thoughts are yours. Almost no one has an original thought these days.
That’s not sexy, and I can guarantee it’s not what you’re looking for.
What are you looking for (most likely)?
Connection with a genuinely awesome human being.
To be swept away by someone.
To have someone intentionally drop your brainwave levels.

To have someone make you do something sexual.

To receive instructions that you cannot resist.

To work WITH the selves inside of you, not against them.

Maybe you just want to receive the most hypnotic hypnosis content on the web. If that’s what you want, then it’s here.

Furthermore, this entire message has captured you. It has shifted your thoughts. It’s literally just another control and influence over you, and you may or may not have felt that. But it’s true. It has influenced you.

Don’t Fight Inner Bimbo!

She tries to fight her inner bimbo, but fails. 

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

She heard it again. In her head. The voice.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

Echoing, fading, then coming again.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

And with the voice, came the mental images. She fought again to open her eyes.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

It was useless, she couldn’t do it.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

The images. Images of women, and men, all engaged in lewd sexual acts.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

Solo masturbation, sometimes with toys. Couples, threesomes, orgies. All manner of gender, all pansexual, it would seem. 

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

From hugely overweight, to rail thin. From barely 18 to what looked like 100.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

Then, the words.




Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

What manner of Hell was she in? This couldn’t be the real Hell, could it?

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.




Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

What was the point of this? She’d never been a particularly sexual person… had she? And she was really smart not… like… a bimbo.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

Anal sex, an act she’d never even considered allowing.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

Women literally guzzling cum, a taste she’d never enjoyed. She usually asked sex partners to finish themselves off in the bathroom.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

69s of all kind. Women doing stripteases for me.




Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

There had to be a way to end this. She tried to scream, but she couldn’t control her body. She could barely even sense her body, only a gentle warmth surrounding her. And, for some reason, she could feel her pussy perfectly.




Obey? That was the worst one yet.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

She damn well was going to fight the sexy images.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

Give in

It feels good


Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

She wouldn’t surrender. No matter how many times the voice repeated…

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

Please men

Please women

Please both

She tried to please the men she’d been with, the few men she’d been with. Women? Well, she’d thought about it. And she was sure thinking about it now.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

Wait, whatever was going on, it was trying to change her, and it was using sex to do it.




She wasn’t a slut!

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

Sure, the life of a slut looked fun, but… what was she saying?

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

Love cock

Suck Cock

Worship cock

Well, there was nothing wrong with that.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

Suck cock

Lick clit

Eat ass

She didn’t want to do that.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

Or did she? It looked like fun… what was holding her back?

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

You’re going to get wet

You’re getting wet

You’re wet

She was, she could feel that much. Her pussy was the one thing on her body that she could feel at all. Maybe because of that, it felt so sensitive it was like there was electricity flowing through it.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

She watched as two women 69ed, burying their tongues deep inside each other. She’d never had oral that good, no matter how much she longed for it.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

But she had to fight. She had to fight because…





Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.




Was that right?

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.




Bimbos were pretty cool. They seemed to have the most fun, and get all the hottest guys.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.




Sure, it sounded fun, but she had a life. She was a… what was she again? What the heck was her name, for that matter?

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.


You are Candy

Yummy Candy

Of course! Candy, that was her name.




That one even rhymed. Hee hee.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.




What was she supposed to accept? Everything felt… fuzzy. Plus, her cunt was distracting her. The growing arousal rapidly pushing aside all other thoughts.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

Want sex

Need sex

Crave sex

She really hadn’t given sex a fair chance, had she. Like, soooo many people said it was great, and stuff, so maybe she’d been wrong.

Blank Bimbo

Horny Bimbo

Obedient Bimbo

She did feel blank, and horny, but she wasn’t obedient, like, was she?

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.




Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

Always say yes

Always submit

Always pleasure

Pleasure, hee hee, she liked that word.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

Fighting was getting like, sooooooo hard. Just like a nice big cock.




Playing is fun. Toys are fun.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

Give in



Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.


Give in


Yeah, that like, sounded cool.




Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

Accept role

Accept control

Accept pleasure

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

That sounded, like really, cool too.




Damn right!

To accept cum

To cum accept

Accept and cum

It felt so incredible. It was beyond belief. She never wanted it to end, but she wanted the explosion of the climax too. Desire was driving her mad. A small part of her mind knew the orgasm would change her forever, make her into the blank, mindless, horny, bimbo, whoever was doing this wanted her to be.

Don’t fight, fight, fight, fight.

It was only a small part, the rest of her was a raging volcano of pent-up sexual energy, waiting to erupt. Then, for the first time, the voice changed, and the image changed to match it.

Good girl.

Good girl

Her orgasm robbed her of her sense of time. And that’s not all it took away… forever.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • UPDATE 4 – Re: Subject 8714

Process complete

BrainJACK: The Ultimate Hypnosis


This dangerously powerful and deep journey will have me brainjacking you to the extreme. You will find it impossible not to be worshiping after this. It will change your brain and make you more receptive to me. It WILL cause addiction. Be careful with my content– loads of people think that they can play pretend with it. This is no make-believe game. My brainjacking works. You have already seen how it’s better than anything else you’ll find online. It alters your mind. It shapes it. It changes you. The effects are very real. Be ready for it. 

This one turns much more harsh, sadistic, and aggressive than usual. It is devious and full of mind-tricks. You’ve been warned. If that’s too much for you, watch a different one. If you like it hardcore, then you have no choice. You have to watch this. 

41 minutes. Suitable for any gender


Text Trance BrainTraining Hypnosis

Text Trance BrainTraining

I’m going to work your mind to make it more susceptible to text trance. For some people, text trance works well.

For others, it does not seem to work at all. But I’m going to change that.

I’m going to make hypnotic text have a powerful effect on you.

Be careful with this, because people will be able to send you messages that may hypnotize you. 


How the Irresistible Hypnotic Barber Turns Nerd Into Hairy Jock

Hypnotic Barber Turns Nerd Into Hairy Jock

Corey was always a book nerd. But after meeting an infamous new barber, he becomes muscular, hairy, and begins to love sports. 

Corey had never truly cared about appearances. He was what he was, and that seemed ok to him. Sure, others might see him as too thin, too gawky, perpetually lost in a book, but it was simply who he was.

He had never known any different, after all.

Ever since he was a kid, he had been too sickly to participate in sports like the other boys in his class, and even as he grew, Corey didn’t develop muscles easily either. He remained rangy all through high school, pale from spending too much of his time in the library.

Today, though, he had decided to finally listen to his mom and go to the barber shop. His hair had gotten a bit long for comfort, and usually that meant going over to his mother’s house for a trim, but the older woman sighed at the idea.

“Come on, baby, you should pamper yourself a bit,” she said, offering her son a nice cup of coffee. He was almost completely hairless from the neck down, something that added to that geekish appearance he had dealt with all his life. “Get a new, hip haircut. I noticed a barbershop just opened up a few blocks away, why don’t you give it a try?”

A perpetual mamma’s boy, Corey couldn’t find the determination to argue with the woman who had raised him. It seemed to always go that way for him. So he meekly nodded and once his tea was finished, Corey stepped out onto the street, following his mother’s directions.

It wouldn’t be so bad, he told himself. Just a few minutes on the chair. He wouldn’t even have to make too much of a conversation, right? Corey was socially awkward, the idea of small talk put him on edge.

The barbershop was everything he might have imagined.

Cool, sporty, with an owner that looked like he would belong in any sports league. He was tall and broad-shouldered, muscular, a macho sort if he had ever seen one. He was also hairy beyond belief.

“Here for a trim, boy?” the barber asked him, and Corey nodded meekly, flushing under that strong stare. The man was at least a full head taller than he was, and twice as broad. Corey nodded, and the barber motioned toward the chair. “I’m Hank.”

“Uhm, nice to meet you. I’m Corey. I just want to cut my hair short, neat, so I…” he began to speak, but Hank shook his head, standing before the chair. His intense stare was on him then, and Corey found himself unable to look away.

“I know what you need. Don’t worry, just sit back and relax,” Hank spoke smoothly, his voice hypnotic. It was hard, if not impossible, to focus on anything else but that bearded face.

So Corey went silent and did just that: stare, while the barber began working his magic.

The sound of the scissors filled Corey’s ears, Hank’s smooth hands moving over his scalp increased that feeling of irreality. It was as if he wasn’t simply sitting on a barber’s chair any longer. It was as if he had been transported to a place where only both of them mattered. 

This man… oh, this barber, it was suddenly so clear to Corey he was everything he ever wanted to be. Maybe he always had wanted that, secretly, down in the bottom of his heart, but didn’t realize until that very moment.

“You would look so much better if you grew a beard,” the tall, muscular man told him, and suddenly it made so much sense. Yes, he would look better that way. He would look like Hank, and wasn’t that what he wanted? What he ached deep inside?

Hank continued to make eye contact, never looking away, never losing focus.

He spoke in a low, masculine growl that filled Corey’s ears, his touch numbing him to any other sensations, any other thoughts.

“More hair, that’s what you need. More hair here, everywhere… don’t you think? Yes… more hair, more hair…” he continued to speak, repeating those words over and over again, almost like a mantra which surrounded him.

Corey was in a haze, his mind spinning. The idea of being like Hank, just like him, was more and amore appealing with every passing second. To be muscular, strong, hairy. To be into sports instead of books.

Why had he wasted so much time in the library to begin with? It seemed so stupid now, such a bad decision. Books seemed dull all of a sudden, and though Corey had never sat through an entire game of football in his life, he suddenly felt an urge to rush to a gym and begin bulking up.

He was a man, after all, and he was far more similar to Hank than he had ever given himself credit for.

This was it, wasn’t it? The moment he changed his life, realized that he had always been meant to be a jock.

Muscular. Hairy. Why not? It made sense, it was right.

He had never wanted something more in his entire life. It was hard to look away from that powerful stare. Impossible even. How could he do it, even if he tried? There was this magnetism about Hank.

Powerful, indomitable, hypnotizing. The scissors kept on clipping and clipping away, over and over again. That manly voice filling Corey’s ears.

And his body began to tingle then. An odd sensation that seemed to almost tug at his skin. Hair seemed to grow where there had been nothing but pale skin.

He felt so skinny all of a sudden, so lame. The idea of going to the library, of being his old geeky self seemed so impossibly stupid all of a sudden.

How much time had he lost reading books when he could have just as easily spent it at the gym, or down at the field throwing a ball? Yes, that seemed far more interesting in every sense of the word.

“You’d look good like me. More hair, don’t you think? Yes, more hair. That’s it, you want more hair, don’t you?” Hank kept on talking, his voice captivating. Corey listened, he stared, he would have nodded if he could have moved his head while getting a haircut.

Hair grew on his arms, on his chest, on his back. His legs suddenly seemed stronger, his arms larger… more muscular? Was that even possible? He didn’t know how, but it was happening, something was changing, both on the inside and out, and Corey wanted that to happen. Oh, he wanted it so badly.

Those words kept on circling endlessly around his head: Hair, hair, hair. Sports, sports, sports.

Muscles, so many muscles. Strong, bulky body. Strong and firm, not like the skinny frame he used to have. 

He wasn’t skinny because he had been born that way, he was skinny because he didn’t hit the gym often enough. That was going to change, yes, he was going to change. He could feel the transformation happening already, taking over completely.

His back was hairy too, his chest looked like a porn actor from the 70s, and it felt good. It felt right, the way it always should have been. He used to be so small, so thin, gaunt even. His body hairless, pathetic.

But now? Now… hair. That was all he could think about, all he could focus on.

It seemed almost like an obsession. One that had begun the instant he sat on the barber chair, the moment Hank stared deep inside his eyes and began trimming his hair.

Everything in the barbershop seemed to be designed to sink Corey further and further into a deep trance. Hank’s voice, the sporty decor all around them, the way those scissors moved at even intervals, like some kind of hypnotic magic which overpowered every single one of his senses.

“I’ll shape your beard too, just like mine. You’re going to like it,” Hank spoke smoothly, and though Corey didn’t have any facial hair when he first stepped into the barber shop, he surely did now.

A face full of hair that needed to be trimmed, shaped.

He would walk out of this place with a full beard and mustache, and it felt right.

He couldn’t even focus on how strange it was that he had been hairless and slim all of his life, obsessed with books and his studies, and it all had changed in a span of a few minutes. How could he suddenly be covered in thick hair? How had it grown so quickly? Why was his mind drifting toward thoughts of sports and beer?

No, Corey had always been a smart young man, noticing small details others might overlook, but not any longer. He was lost in a new world, hypnotized into a brand new man.

There was no way to escape the spell he had fallen into, the spell this guy had pulled him into with his voice, his scissors, his manliness.

“You’re into sports too, right? Say it… you’re into sports, just like your barber. It feels right all of a sudden, doesn’t it?” Hank continued to speak in a soft whisper, his voice engulfing Corey’s senses.

The barber kept on staring deep into his eyes.

He was done with the hair and now he was focusing on shaping Corey’s new beard, making it look just like the one he was sporting.

It wasn’t just his ears those smooth words filled, not any longer. Somehow they also managed to take over every other one of his senses. It was impossible, he could have told anyone who’d hear that only an hour ago. Now, now it made perfect sense. Hank and his beard, Hank and his hairy chest could make anything happen.

“Yes… I’m into sports. Yes…” Corey whispered back, his voice monotone, his eyes glazed over. He couldn’t think straight any longer, he couldn’t focus on anything but the man standing before him.

Hair, hair, hair. It covered his body now, like never before.

It was thick, it was dark and smooth, and it was all over. His back, his legs, his arms, his face and neck. Especially his chest. He felt manly, and oh, it was just right in every sense of the word.

This was what he was always meant to be without knowing it. A strong, hairy man, obsessed with sports, wanting nothing but to hang out with other guys and enjoy a good game on the television, or maybe even play football himself.

Why not? It made sense, it made perfect sense. Why shouldn’t he be just like the barber? There was no better role model to Corey at that very moment, no one he wanted to be like more than him.

It was right, it was what he had always been meant to be.

“Hairy…” he whispered, lost in a trance. His chest hair curled up then too, and he knew Hank’s must look just the same. “Yes, hairy”

“That’s it,” Hank encouraged his client, as he finished trimming that thick beard. 

Corey knew where he’d go once Hank finished working his -literal- magic on him. He had, of course, planned to visit the library, but not any more. Of course not. That sounded dull, boring, stupid.

He’d hit the gym. Sign up for the most expensive plan, one where he could work out day in and day out to bulk up just like Hank. He wanted his arms to be massive, his chest to be broad, his legs to be strong. And he’d look so good then, covered in thick hair, he knew it.

His body had already changed since the moment he sat down on the chair, since the scissors began to trim at his hair, at his brand new beard.

He was not slim, not any longer. But he still had a long way to go. He needed to bulk up, to work out until his body was just like Hank’s, and then come back to this barbershop.Come back and get another trim. Get a reminder of this new life he had embraced during his haircut.

Yes, that’s what he would do. It felt right, it was what he had always been meant to do, even if he hadn’t discovered that fact till he met Hank.

Hair, muscles, sports.

All that mattered any longer were those simple concepts. Hair that covered his body, thick and black. Manly, the way it always should have been.

“Well, I’d say you’re done for now,” Hank spoke, and the scissors went down. Corey stood up, no longer under that heavy spell, but still influenced by it. A brand new man, one modeled after the barber himself. “But come back next month for a trim. I’ll keep shaping this beard to make it look even better than it does now.”

Corey, of course, agreed at once, and he left the barbershop a new man.

Not a geek, but a jock, a sports fan.

There was a great gym two blocks away. He had walked past it a million times in the past, but never paid much attention to it. Now it seemed to be the only thing in his mind.

He spent the rest of the day working out, building up those muscles Hank had granted him, making sure to begin the journey that would turn him into a perfect copy of that handsome, broad-shouldered jock.

Corey couldn’t wait to go back to that barber chair, to sit down and stare into Hank’s eyes as he worked his magic, the sound of the scissors filling his mind, hair sprouting the way it always should have.Thick, black, plentiful hair, up and down his legs, his chest, his back, his arms. All over, and especially on that beard.

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Hypnotist Makes Her Cigarettes Sexy

Hypnotist Makes Her Cigarette Habit Sexy 

Darla had tried everything to quit smoking. Gum. Meditation. Acupuncture. Therapy. Nothing ever worked, not even for a day. The one thing she hadn’t tried was hypnosis. She was skeptical it would work on her. Next she considered going to a professional, but then how would she know if they were a quack? After weeks of agonizing, and chain smoking from the stress of trying to quit smoking, it came to her. She could go see a stage hypnotist, to see if they could actually do it, then she could approach them to see if they could help.

Luckily, Las Vegas was the place to find any sort of entertainment available. She found herself with three choices. Two were men, one was a woman. For some reason, her heterosexual self felt weird about being put under by another woman. That left two. One was “The Great Hypnotico,” the other just used the name Alan Miller. The first one sounded far too goofy, so she went with the second. Then, a phone call later, she had reservations for a Saturday matinee.

The opening act was a really crappy comedian. It was made worse by Darla not wanting to drink. She wanted to be sober to be hypnotized, if it did happen.

When Alan Miller was introduced, and stepped out of the curtain wearing a classic black Zoot Suit, Darla was surprised how handsome he was. A guy like him could be a model, not doing penny ante hypnotism shows. He gave an introduction then, as Darla had expected, he asked for a volunteer from the audience. She kept silent. Alan selected a mousy, withdrawn, young woman and led her to the stage. Darla was impressed he hadn’t simply picked the girl with the biggest tits in the room. Darla could see that woman, and she had volunteered. She was busy pouting now.

Alan didn’t use a watch or anything special like that. Just his voice and the occasional hand gesture. He began his induction, using a slow relaxation technique and multiple countdowns. His patience paid off, as the girl drifted away, right in front of the audience. Next, he led her through a typical series of tricks. He did the classic, cluck like a chicken. He had her forget her own name. The piece de resistance was him having this shy young girl give him a surprising erotic dance, that almost turned into a lap dance. Darla was amazed she would act like that in public. Maybe, this guy really knew what he was doing.

After almost an hour, Alan finally returned her to consciousness. The crowd gave the woman a huge ovation as she nervously returned to his seat. Alan bid the crowd good night, and the show was over. The crowd began to file out, but Darla hesitated. Would she go see him? Could she even get to him? She was lost in thought when she heard the usher.

“May I help you, miss?”

She made up her mind.

“Would there be any way I could see Mr. Miller?”

“Of course, Mr. Miller loves to hear from fans. He’s with someone else right now. Would you mind waiting? I can take you to our green room.”

“That sounds great.”

The phrase “green room” sounds great, until you learn it’s an oversized closet, crammed with chairs, there’s garbage everywhere, plus the food has been picked over to the point there’s only honeydew left. Darla felt nervous. She kept thinking about chickening out. She also craved a cigarette. That, ironically, was what kept her there. 

Almost ten minutes later, the usher returned and asked her to follow. When they reached a door with a paper star taped to it, the usher knocked. The door opened, but it wasn’t Alan who answered it. It was the big breasted woman who hadn’t been invited onstage.

She turned back, waved and said “Thanks, Alan.”

Darla heard his reply, “It was my pleasure.”

The woman bounced away, literally bounced, in more ways than one. Darla wondered how anyone with tits that big could go without a bra. She needed one herself, but not that badly.

“Come in,” Alan called.

The dressing room was a step up from the green room, but hardly the Ritz.

“Hello,” said Alan with a smile. He had removed his jacket. Darla took one look at his swimmer’s build, not overly muscular, but as cut as a Greek statue. 

“Hi,” she said, nervously, “I’m Darla, Darla-“

“He cut her off, “First names will do. Now, how can I help you?”

“I want to quit smoking,” she blurted out, happy to just get it off her chest.

“I’ve worked with people who needed that. I won’t make any guarantees, but I also won’t charge you, unless you feel you need follow up sessions.”

“Ok, I’m willing to try. What do I need to do?”

“I want you to close your eyes, and listen.”

She did. She heard his fingers snap, then, seconds later she heard him speak again.

“You can open your eyes.”

She did, turning to him, “Why?”

“I can tell already it won’t work, you’re too tense. Maybe some other time.”

Darla worked hard to hide her disappointment. Still, it was a Hail Mary to begin with.

She looked at her watch and realized it was later than she had thought.

“I should go,” she said.

“Maybe some other time.”

That wasn’t going to happen, Darla told herself.

“Thanks for trying,” she said, before heading straight for her car.

She wasn’t even at the car yet when she lit up a cigarette. No help at all. She got in with the cigarette still lit, and kept it going inside, until it burnt to the filter. Darla felt flushed as she finished it, so flushed she turned on the AC, despite it being 70 degrees outside. She got home in twenty minutes, headed inside and lit another cigarette. The flushing returned, and her nipples began to harden. She realized what it was; she was horny. It had been a few months since she dumped her ex, and she’d gone without since. She figured she’d just make dinner to take her mind off it. It helped, but not entirely. She barely tasted her meal, she was so preoccupied, and she sank into her sofa for her after-dinner cigarette.

Halfway through the cigarette, her pussy got wet.

By the time she finished, her panties were soaked. She headed to the bedroom to change. As she opened the drawer for a new pair, her eyes fell on her vibrator. She didn’t use it often, but…

After an hour of self-fucking, she felt a bit of relief. She staggered back to the living room, desperate for a smoke. As she finished it, she realized she was still horny. This was crazy! She lit another cigarette, just to try to calm it, but it only got worse. She needed to get fucked, masturbation was not going to cut it, but how? The idea of calling her ex flashed across her mind, but even this horny, she couldn’t bear the thought. But there was no other option, unless…

This was Vegas, after all, and she made decent money. The prostitute she called came highly recommended, and she came over and over and over, until she lost count. It was, quite literally, the best sex she had ever had. Twice, she had to buy another hour. She was exhausted at the end, and the hooker had another appointment. Darla thanked him, tossed him a $50 tip, and said goodbye. Out of breath, she collapsed on the bed. When she did get her breath back, she lit up a post-coital smoke, the best kind there was.

Two puffs in she realized it. She was horny again!

There was a knock at the door. It was 4 a.m., the prostitute must have forgotten something. She went to the door, naked, since he’d certainly seen everything already. She opened the door… and there stood Alan Miller. She was too shocked to be embarrassed. He smiled at her.

“How was the sex?”

“It was… wait, how did you know?”

“I saw the guy leave. Plus, you’re naked. May I come in?”

“Yes,” she said, wanting to get to the bottom of this. It didn’t even twig in her mind to ask how he’d learned her address, without even knowing her last name.

“Yes, the nudity and the hooker leaving paint a pretty clear picture.”

“How… he wasn’t a hooker,” she lied to save face.

“I know one when I see one,” he said with a wry grin before continuing, “Besides, when I hypnotized you earlier tonight, I planted a trigger.”

“You didn’t hypnotise me,” she said, puzzled.

He ignored her and continued. “I made it so whenever you smoke, you get horny. More smoking, more arousal.”


“So, I’ll ask again, how was the sex.”

She hesitated then went with the truth. “Amazing. So good I can’t really describe it.”

“That’s part of the trigger too, you’ll enjoy sex far more from now on, that is…”

“Is what”

“Or what”

“The way I see it, you have three options, I can undo the hypnosis and free you of the entire trigger.

You can keep trying to quit smoking, but you’ll be giving up the amazing sex too.

I can leave you as is. The knowledge that  smoking makes you that horny should be enough to help you quit. Or…” He paused.

“Or, you can just keep smoking. Then you’ll be a wanton, sex addict, but it will feel so good. Imagine feeling that good, all night, every night. Besides, it’s not like you can’t make a living doing it.”

At this point, she wasn’t sure what she wanted.

“Smoking feels good. Sex feels even better. Why not dedicate your life to both?”

“I… I don’t know.”

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his own pocket. He pulled out two, lit one, and offered her the other.

“What’s it going to be.”

She snatched it from his hands and lit it up, drawing deeply.

After a few long puffs, she asked “Are we going to fuck now?” hoping for the answer yes.

“Fuck yeah!”

Darla wasn’t quitting smoking any time soon.

Amazing Gamer Girl Program (Mind Control Story)

Gamer Girl Program

December 31, 1987

This was her life, alone in an arcade on New Year’s Eve.

Ok, there was one staff guy hanging out by the jukebox. Either he was a creep, or too shy to talk to a real-life “girl”. Of course, having just turned 18, she wasn’t a girl anymore. Anyway, she didn’t care about him. She needed to blow off some steam. Another fight with her mother had left her both physically keyed up, and mentally exhausted. She needed a challenge.

Josie wasn’t your ordinary girl.  She was an arcade queen. She wasn’t just the best female player in their little town, she won almost half the tournaments when the “boys” played too. She loved showing them up. This arcade was her home away from an excruciating home. She had a strategy for every game in the place. That was, until she saw the new one.

First and foremost, it was sleek, black, shiny and smooth. Only one blood red lettering was scrawled across it: Program.

Seemed like a bland name. Every video game was a program. But it was new, and new was just what she wanted right then. She reached into her heavy coin pouch, to make sure she had at least twenty quarters in there. It shouldn’t take more than seven or eight to figure the game out. She eagerly closed on the joystick, and controls. Just two buttons. Seemed simplistic. She glanced down at the directions.









That’s it? Fine then, she’d play along, literally. Still doubtful she popped her quarter into the coin slot. At the same time she did the staff guy hit a button on the jukebox and Salt n’ Pepa’s “Push It’ began playing. It wasn’t a bad song, it had just been so overplayed. MTV had the video on so many times a day. Anyway, time to focus on the game.

Push push it real good.

As soon as she hit Start, the lights began. In addition to that the lights were flashing, whirling, forming spirals and shapes that dissolved into mist within minutes, only to turn into patterns, and waves and energy. Nonetheless the graphics were really great. Then the game began. Round one was still simple enough. The point was just to match colored bubbles by hitting one, then the other of the same color. Josie needed less than a minute to work out the sensitivity of the joystick, from there she was picking them off like womp rats.

Push push it real good.

Now, the bubbles had words in them. As a matter of fact, there were three on each side, still three different colors. The words though, seemed to make no sense. She tapped on a blue word on the left side that read “Obedience,” the matching one on the other side read “Pleasure.” They really had nothing to do with each other, but the combo matched and she earned more points. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been playing, but she knew she was doing well for her first quarter. She knew she was doing well.


Push push it real good.

The next combination was “service” and “bliss,” followed by “surrender” and “orgasm.” Woah! That was naughty. She was caught by surprise, then surprised again as the screen began to flash and swirl even faster now. She really had to focus.

Push push it real good.





She looked at the first line which was simply “I.” The next columns began moving, like a slot machine, spinning quickly. She really had to focus.

The first combo was “I love sex.” She was a bit shocked, but yes, the two times she’d had sex had been great.

“Obedience is pleasure.”

What? The spirals and swirls and lights were making it so hard to focus and she really had to focus. Nevertheless, she needed to focus on the colors, the words didn’t matter.

“Service is bliss”

“I want sex.”

True, she guessed, in fact a little New Year’s nookie would have been nice.

Push push it real good.

“I am bi.”

Wow, she’d only just realized that all of a sudden.

Pus-pussy’s real good.

“I love cock.”

Yeah, cock was great in fact.

“I suck cock.”

She was just thinking also, wouldn’t some cock taste great right about now?

“I love cum.”

Suck suck it real good.

Then, she licked her lips.

“I’m a slut.”

Was she? Besides, It would be fun, wouldn’t it?

“I must obey.”

Then, she hit the sweet spot, as the dancing lights, the text, and the subliminals laced in the jukebox took complete hold. Her eyes glazed now; her mouth gaped open. 

“I must obey.”

“I must obey.”

“I must obey.”

“I must obey.”

“I fuck men.”

“I fuck chicks.”

Fuck-fuck it real good.

“I must suck.”

“I must fuck.”

“I must lick.”

Lick-lick it real good.

“I must submit.”

“I must obey.”

“All holes open.”

“All are welcome.”

“Fuck me good.”

“Fuck me hard”

“Be a slut.”

Slut slut baby.

“Turn and kneel.”

“Turn and kneel.”

“Turn and kneel.”

After that, she clicked the first two lines, before the command sunk in. Next, she turned and slowly sank to her knees. While at the same time her eyes dutifully looked to the floor, it was only his shoes she saw. But she knew who he was, the staff guy from the arcade. Then he stood close, facing her.

He undid his fly.

Josie had a new favorite game.

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TV Brainwash Hypnosis with Jack: Your New Favorite Show

Jack’s TV Brainwash Hypnosis

You know watching television isn’t good for you, right?

It seems you got caught up in watching TV and left the shopping channel on. The TV host has a hypnotic plan for you.

These guys can be so cunning and manipulative without you even realizing it. Better not fall for it. 

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