The Experiment
Week Twenty-one—Monday
I just love being trained by Professor B, every day and all weekend. I’m becoming so pliant, so open to his will. More and more I’ve been imagining calling him “Master,” and that thought gets me so hot. I want to please him and feel his praise. I’m constantly aroused when I’m with him; all my thoughts are of serving him. I’m in a whirl, and I just love it!
Week Twenty-one—Saturday
I finally worked up the courage to tell Professor B what I’ve been wanting. I confessed that I want to be his slave. I told him that I’ve always had a fantasy of a powerful man hypnotizing me and turning me into a sex slave. I think that’s why I get so turned on by my hypnosis sessions with him. I asked if he would want to do that—to hypnotize me into being his sex slave.
He smiled at me and said, “My experiment has been a complete success. You are my sex slave now. Go look in the mirror, and you’ll see.”
I went over to the mirror and looked at myself. I was naked and wearing a collar, just like in my dream. My body trembled with excitement. But I was also a bit confused.
“What do you mean when you say your experiment has been a success?”
“My experiment to turn an ordinary woman into a sex slave using hypnosis.”
“But it only worked because I already wanted to be hypnotized and turned into a slave. I’ve had that fantasy since I was small.”
“No, my dear. You’ve had that fantasy since I suggested it to you under deep hypnosis.”
“That’s ridiculous. I can remember watching cartoons when I was a little girl. Whenever the bad guy hypnotized the heroine in the cartoon, I wished it were me. I can remember how excited I got when I thought about not being able to control myself because I was under someone else’s power. I didn’t even know I was sexually excited; I was much too young.”
“Those memories are all in response to suggestions. When I met you, you had no interest at all in submission, slavery, or anything of that sort.”
“I don’t believe you. That can’t be true. I remember years of fantasizing about all those things.”
“I can prove it to you, Katie. Would you like me to?”
“What you’re saying simply isn’t possible, but I’m listening.”
“I tape your sessions. Wait just a moment while I get the right tapes, and you’ll hear for yourself.”
He opened a large lab notebook, and spent a minute or two flipping through it, making a few notes on a memo pad. Crossing the room to a cabinet, he extracted a couple of tapes from a large collection, while consulting his notes. I heard a squeal as the first tape fast-forwarded, then his recorded voice filled the room.
“I want you to look at this picture of a young woman. I’m going to say some words that might describe her, Katie, and I want you to tell me how you feel about each one. You can be completely honest with me, since you won’t remember our discussion when you awaken. You want to be completely open and honest, don’t you, Katie?”
“Yes, I want to be completely open and honest.”
“Good girl. Look at the picture. The first word is, “obedient.” Tell me your thoughts and feelings about this woman being obedient.
“I don’t like that word. When I hear it, I think of a pet. She wouldn’t want to be obedient. Why should she?”
“Very good, Katie. It feels good to share with me, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, I like sharing with you.”
“Good. The next word is “submissive.” What does that word bring to mind?”
“She isn’t submissive. I can see that she’s a strong woman who knows herself and what she wants. No woman in her right mind would want to submit to a man. That’s what people mean when they talk about submissive, and it’s just plain wrong. Women aren’t naturally submissive. That’s nonsense.”
“Good. How about the word “slave”? What do you think about that?
“I hate that word. No woman should be forced to do things. Lincoln ended slavery, and everyone should be glad. I guess there are women who like to play at being submissive slaves, but I don’t understand them. I would never want to do that.”
My mouth must have been hanging open. This was me talking? I can’t believe I said those things. I don’t feel that way at all. In fact, the three words he mentioned, “obedient”, “submissive”, and “slave” are all words that get me incredibly hot. They’re so sexy! But it was my voice on the tape. I felt so confused.
Another tape, another fast-forward, and his voice again.
“How old are you, Katie?”
“I’m twenty-three.”
“We’re going to go back now to an earlier time. We’re going to go back to when you were a little girl and you used to watch cartoons on TV. You remember watching cartoons when you were small, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You’re there now. You’re a little girl watching cartoons. How old are you Katie?”
“I’m five.”
I guess it was my voice on the tape, at least it was clearly my voice when I said I was twenty-three, but now it sounded quite different; it really sounded like a little girl—high-pitched and with just a hint of a lisp. This was so wild! I didn’t remember any of this, but I guess it must have happened.
“Five years old! You’re a big girl, aren’t you, Katie?”
“Yes, I’m a big girl.”
“What are you doing right now, Katie?”
“Watching cartoons on TV.”
“In the cartoons you see a girl being hypnotized, don’t you, Katie?”
“Yes.”
“The bad guy is hypnotizing her. How is he doing it, Katie?”
“With a watch. He’s swinging it back and forth.”
“That’s right, and she’s hypnotized now, isn’t she?”
“Yes.”
“How do you like this cartoon, Katie?”
“OK, I guess.”
“Do you think it’s exciting?”
“Dunno. Can I watch Scooby-Doo now?”
“Let’s watch this cartoon a little longer. You’ll do that for me, won’t you?”
“OK.”
“He’s still swinging the watch back and forth, and it’s exciting you. You’re imagining that he’s hypnotizing you. That’s an exciting thought, isn’t it?”
“Exciting.”
“Watch what’s happening to her as he swings the watch back and forth. She’s trying to keep her eyes open, but she can’t. She’s powerless, isn’t she?”
“She can’t help it.”
“No, she can’t help it. And that’s so exciting. She has no choice, because he’s hypnotizing her. That excites you so much. How do you feel about this cartoon, Katie?”
“It’s exciting.”
“That’s right. You wish it was you being hypnotized, don’t you?”
“Yes, I’d like to try it.”
“How would you feel if you were being hypnotized?”
“I couldn’t help it.”
“That’s right. And that would be so very, very exciting, wouldn’t it?”
“Exciting.”
“You’re going to be thinking about this cartoon a lot, aren’t you?”
“Yes, it’s exciting.”
“She’s completely under his control now, isn’t she?”
“She’s hypnotized.”
“She has to do anything he tells her, doesn’t she?”
“She can’t help it.”
“That’s so very, very exciting, isn’t it?”
“Exciting.”
“How would you feel if you were hypnotized, Katie?”
“Excited.”
“What would you have to do, if a hypnotist took control of you?”
“Whatever he told me.”
“How does that sound?”
“Exciting.”
“You’re going to be thinking about how much you want to be hypnotized and controlled, Katie. You’re going to be thinking about that a lot, aren’t you?”
“A lot. It’s so exciting.”
“How do you think you’ll feel about being hypnotized and controlled once you’re grown up, Katie?”
“I’ll still want it.”
“You’ll have been imagining it for years and years, ever since you were a little girl, isn’t that right, Katie?”
“Yes.”
“You’re twenty-three again, Katie. How do you feel about being hypnotized and controlled?”
“I’ve been imagining it for years and years, ever since I was a little girl.”
“And how do you feel when you imagine it?”
“Excited.”
“Very, very good, Katie. You’re doing so well.”
Professor B flipped off the tape player and turned to me. “That’s just the first. I repeated that scene with you six or eight times, reinforcing the memory, the ideas, and the desires.”
I was stunned. Was it really possible that my lifelong interest in hypnosis and submission had been implanted by Professor B, and wasn’t real at all? That seems so implausible. I could remember those childhood fantasies so clearly. And then I realized how ridiculous this all was. My interest in hypnosis went back to childhood, but it wasn’t simply years of fantasizing about cartoon heroines. There were so many memories and experiences—playing “hypnotist” with my best girl-friend in grade school; experimenting at slumber parties in junior high; my first kiss, while hypnotized, as a teenager; sexual experiences in high school and college under hypnosis; a succession of boyfriends who had hypnotized me. I could even remember two or three guys I broke up with because they weren’t interested in hypnotic control. So many memories, so vivid, so real. It simply wasn’t possible that this was all due to conditioning, and I told Professor B so.
“Hmmmmm. Let’s pick just one of those memories. Your first kiss. How old were you at the time?”
“Fifteen. It was at a party.”
Again he consulted his notes, selected a tape, cued it. My mind was in a whirl as the tape began to play. Was it really possible that he had implanted this memory? No, it simply couldn’t be, I remembered it as if it were yesterday—the feel of his lips, his voice, the excitement—it had to be real. It was real. Yet, there was the tape ...
“How old were you the first time a boy kissed you, Katie?
“Thirteen.”
“No, Katie, you were fifteen. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, fifteen.”
“Where were you when it happened?”
“I .... I’m ... not sure.” I could hear the confusion in my voice. Having been told that my memories were not correct, I was cast adrift, and needed Professor B to restore my reality. As I listened, I could feel the sensation of being lost, as I must have experienced it at the time.
“I’ll help you remember. You want me to help, don’t you, Katie?”
“Yes. Please help me remember.”
“You were at a party. A party at a friend’s house.”
“Yes, a party. At my friend’s”
“That’s right. There was a boy who said he knew how to hypnotize people. How did you feel when he said that?”
“Excited. I want him to hypnotize me.”
“That’s right. You’re excited. He’s asking for volunteers. What are you doing?”
“I’m telling him that I want to volunteer.”
“That’s right. What’s his name?”
“I don’t remember.”
“His name is John.”
“Yes. John.”
“John is beginning to hypnotize you now. How is he doing it?”
“He’s swinging a watch back and forth. He’s telling me that I feel sleepy, and want to close my eyes.”
“What’s happening to you?”
“My eyes feel so tired. I can’t keep them open. I’m trying, but I can’t. I can’t help it.”
“How does being hypnotized make you feel?”
“Relaxed. Drowsy. Excited.”
“You’re deeply, deeply hypnotized now, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I’m so deep. I must obey him.”
“You’re very, very excited, aren’t you?”
“Yes. It’s my fantasy.”
“What are the other people at the party doing?”
“They’re watching. They want to see him hypnotize me.”
“How does that make you feel?”
“Helpless. Aroused. I can’t help it.”
“That’s right. You’re helpless and aroused. You’re deeply under his control, aren’t you?”
“Yes. So deep. So helpless. I must obey.”
“He’s telling you that you want to kiss him.”
“Yes. I do. I want to kiss him. I’m so excited. I feel so sexy.”
“He’s giving you permission. Tell me what you’re doing.”
“I’m putting my arms around him. I want to kiss him so much. He’s so strong, so powerful, so handsome. All I want is to kiss him.”
“You’re kissing him now. Tell me how it feels.”
“So nice. So sexy. His lips are warm and soft. I feel like I’m melting.”
“You love being hypnotized and under his control, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes! It feels so wonderful. I’m so excited.”
“Your kiss is over. He’s telling you that when you awaken, you’ll remember how wonderful it felt, and that you’ll want to have this experience again.”
“Oh, I do. I want him to hypnotize me again and kiss me. I want it so much.”
Professor B clicked the tape off. How was this possible? I knew, with no reservation, that I had had this experience as a teenager. But the evidence of the tape also seems clear. It appears that my desire for hypnotic control is an effect of being conditioned under hypnosis. Oh, this is so hot! When I contemplated the possibility that a whole series of my memories were a result of deep suggestions while under Professor B’s hypnotic control, I could feel myself getting flushed and moist.
When I think about this now, I can see how strange it all is. It’s like tail swallowing. I get hot thinking about being made to get hot when I think about hypnosis, because Professor B suggested that to me, under hypnosis. It seems to go round and round. But it does gets me intensely excited. Even if he conditioned me to feel this way, I can’t deny that I do feel it, and I enjoy feeling it. I love being hypnotized and controlled; I want to be even more deeply hypnotized and controlled, and frankly, I don’t care why I want it. If Professor B did condition me to want hypnotic control, I’m glad he did. I’ve never been so excited in my life.
“How are you feeling about all this, Katie?” he asked.
“I want to be your hypnotized sex slave,” I replied. “This is so exciting, I can’t even tell you. I’m so turned on. I guess I believe you when you tell me that these desires and memories are a result of the experiment, but that only makes me want it more. I want it so much. I want to be your hypnotized sex toy. I do. I want it. Please hypnotize me and make me your mind-controlled slave.”
He smiled at me. “I’m pleased at how well you’ve responded. You’re happy that the experiment was a success, aren’t you, little one?”
I got a delightful shivery feeling when he called me that. “Yes, I’m so happy.”
He motioned me to my feet, placed hands on each of my shoulders, and gazed into my eyes. I could feel myself falling. I was going so deep. He began to stroke my breasts, while continuing to deepen me with his eyes.
“There’s no longer any need to forget, my little slave. You will remember all your future sessions. From now on, you will remember my deep, deep hypnotic commands and how powerless you feel under my control. You will remember the pleasure, the deep conditioning, your desire to respond. You will remember all the excitement as you learn to serve me more and more deeply. You want to give yourself to me completely, and you’re so aroused. Cum for me now, my sweet little hypnotic slave.”
I did remember all of this when I awakened. He was inside me as he spoke, and I was on the edge, trembling with the intensity of my arousal. When he told me to cum, I passed out. I’m not exactly sure what happened after that!
So, I guess the experiment is over, at least for me. I will continue to serve my Master, and I hope that he’ll condition me daily. Keeping this log has helped me to reflect on the changes that I’ve been experiencing. I suppose it really was part of the conditioning, although I couldn’t see it. It no longer seems necessary.
They say you never really “arrive.” I guess that’s true—there are probably always deeper levels of submission and control possible. One graduates from one phase only to begin the next. But for today, I feel like I’ve arrived. And tomorrow, I’ll visit my Master and see what’s coming next.