tagMind ControlHypnotized by Chelsea

Hypnotized by Chelsea

byCute Little Thing©

Alex has been bothering sexy Chelsea for several months now. When he shows up on her door she offers to erotically hyponotise him to get him to stop bothering her. While hypnotized, alex is led to picture himself as a woman having sex, who desires men.

What's it like working for a National Security Agency assignment at MIT? Not very easy, that's what its like. The things people hold dear, are constantly slipping away from you. Time? You spend 18 hours a day trying to crack 256 byte encryption (I know, I know - but we only SAY its impossible to break) and other various coding schemes designed purposely to give you trouble. Let it be said that free time is not an amenity of the assignment. Money? You've got to be kidding me, the whole point of working on an NSA assignment isn't the money, it's the prestige, that is, the hope of future prestige, as no one in the city of Cambridge even knows you exist save for a few senior faculty advisor's and maybe their connections at the State Department. Nobody working in our nook of a dormer office overlooking Mass Avenue made any money. We were lucky to have enough cash to buy 7-11 breakfast burritos at the end of the month, forget about going on a date. Then of course, there is youth. You would think I at least had that. But you'd be surprised how quickly your youth drips away, if you spend day after staring at the blinking of a cathode ray tube, making notes on the back of the sports pages from the Boston Globe, waiting for the code that will spring your innovation, and thus your career to the next level.

Its hard for me to say why I chose this career, and to be honest it was always more inertia than anything else. I stepped on the accelerated pure mathematics track in 7th grade, and simply never stepped off. On the way I missed many things, high school athletics, spin the bottle, the prom. Later on, I missed frat parties, the trendy club scene and a starter marriage, not to mention the humanities, and experimentation with marijuana. Now here I was, 29 years old, two months away from my thirtieth birthday, on the verge of decoding perhaps the most complex sequence of military code ever invented - in other words on the verge of all this work paying off, and what happens? A bunch of retrograde, bearded Allah-freaks, slam a couple of 767's into the World Trade Center and the paradigm changes.

The NSA was actually kind enough to send a sample of Al Queada code, but everyone realized the game had changed. I took one look at their juvenile efforts at encryption and had the problem solved. The problem was, so could any slob with a course or two in encryption. What was the use of 15 years work in advanced mathematics, when any bright high school students with an interest in calculus could do the job just as well. I was preparing for a war against an intellectual giant, and instead I was matched against a million devious mice. With my youth slipping away, and a lifetime in the actuarial sciences staring me in the face, I stepped out into the cold winter evening to get myself a drink.


Massachusetts Avenue runs from the far reaches of Roxbury through Boston Proper, over the Charles River and into Cambridge. It travels north directly past MIT, then veers west through Harvard Square and on into the technologically driven suburbs and then the Massachusetts countryside beyond. No matter, wherever you stand on Mass Ave, it feels as though you're facing a fan. The wind blows off the Charles and shoots down Mass Ave in each direction, driving you, depending on the direction you are facing, either deeper in Cambridge, or deeper into Boston. In my depressed stupor, I let the wind and driving snow carry me into Cambridge - to Harvard Square, to the bars to drown my sorrows.

I had walked at least another hour, and I still felt I was no closer to my destination. The weather had gotten more frigid, with the night sky falling, and occasionally I found myself passing homeless men and other derelicts huddled miserably beneath their cardboard shelter, scraping any remnant of heat that they could from the steaming subway grates. I began to feel weak and a little desperate. I realized it was Christmas and I hadn't even remembered. The shops were closed tight, and I would be damned if I would interrupt a Christmas Eve dinner just because I had lost my way. But still it was so cold, so terribly cold.

I remembered my friend Chelsea, the sassy psychology student. She had been a Masters student in my Multivariate calculus class the first semester I ever taught it. Unlike the other students who rolled their eyes at me, she found my utter inability to communicate endearing for some unknown reason. We had enjoyed a brief flirtation. We even dated once or twice, but eventually, I got involved in a new area using spherical coordinates to embed code within moving simulated 3-dimensional images. She got involved studying for her psychology comps, and a hockey player from Northeastern. Long story short, we drifted apart. And no, I never slept with her.

But here I was suddenly, depressed, disoriented, slowly freezing to death, and only about a block from her house. Even if she wasn't home, I knew where she hid a key; it would be easy enough to break in - just to warm up mind you. She lived on one side of a duplex house, a little run down, with a creaky porch and all, but a house with a girl in it no less, and with the mood I was in, that did me just fine. I rapped on the storm door, anxiously waiting, waiting. Finally, there were footsteps, a girlish hand pulling back the door curtain, and then her face in the doorway behind the chain.

"Alex, I told you not to call me anymore. I told you not to come here." She said.

"Please Chelsea, I'm cold, freezing in fact. It's been a horrible day, just for a cup of tea." I said supporting myself in the doorway, feeling the snot run from my nose. "Just for a minute, please, I promise I won't make a scene."

"Alex, its Christmas Eve, why tonight? Or I guess I just answered my own question right? Because its tonight, I suppose. Allright, allright, you're a mess, come in for a cup of tea and I'll call you a cab."

She opened the door and I stepped inside, smelling perfume, rose petals, a bit of incense, feeling an itch in my nose from her cat, and of course the heat. I forgot about her love of the heat. All of Boston could be on fire, and Chelsea would turn on the heat. Damn the cost of oil, Chelsea would set her thermostat to 85, and walk around in her shorts and a t-shirt. After being out in the cold for so long the warmth and the smells went to my head. My throat clutched, and I grabbed at my coat, quickly trying to disentangle myself from its now stifling warmth. But it was too late, I grew dizzy, and then wobbly, and then a ringing began to rise in my ears. I stepped forward three times, and then fainted. And that was that.


I woke up a few seconds later, on the floor, Chelsea looking worried, in her little boy-pant undies and a camisole. It's a distinctly male attribute that the first feeling I had upon waking up from a fainting spell was arousal.

"Are you hard! Oh that is so gross. Jesus Alex, what the fuck is wrong with you? Listen, you've been semi-stalking me for months now - you're a cute boy, but a little fey for me, and I'm never gonna fuck you. I might as well just tell you. I knew the first second you came onto me at the Villager that I would never fuck you, you too much of a . . ."

I was sort of shocked. I mean this was kind of direct. "Too much of what?" I asked.

"You really haven't figured it out have you? Ok listen, I'm gonna do something for you, since its Christmas, and since it's a goof. But you have to promise me - no groping me, no touching me at all; I had a panic button installed. We'll do this, but if you so much as touch me, I swear I'll press it and the police will be here in no time."

"Do what?" I asked dopily. I was still in a haze. I hadn't eaten in a few days and it was hot in the room. Besides, I always had this feeling with Chelsea that I was dealing with someone smarter than me. Her gears shifted faster or something. I mean sure, she sucked at math problems that I could do drunk and half-asleep, but she had that thing, I don't know that social sensibility that I always lacked. Plus her advisor said she was a veritable psychology genius. "I know what motivates you, your penis - or rather your desire to stick your penis into me - or whatever disgusting things you think about late at night with your dick in your hand. You're not going to stop bothering me until we resolve this. So this is what we're going to do. You're going to strip down naked, and I am going to hypnotize you, and when we're done, you'll be satisfied, and I'll be relieved that you won't bother me."

"Hypnotize me?"

" Oh don't be such a little prima donna. Did you hear me, I'm going to let you take your clothes off in front of me - isn't that what you've been fantasizing about? Or at least part of it." Now come on.

Five minutes later I was reclining on her couch, naked with a hardon. She had already made fun of my penis, and told me how small and ridiculous I was, and how funny she thought it was that I ever entertained the notion that she would let me fuck her. She had gotten some Astro glide from her room and had given it to me.

"Now listen, Alex. The first thing you are going to do is to take this lube and stroke your little dick. I want you to stroke your cock back and forth until you are totally aroused, listen to my voice, but imagine the sexiest thing you can imagine. Don't be shy, just imagine something extremely hot and sexy, and stroke your dick - but don't you dare cum, do you understand?"

"Are you serious?"

"Oh Alex just shut up and go along with this - like you don't want to jack off in front of me - please spare me the mock embarrassment."

She was right what can I say, who wouldn't want to jack off in front of Chelsea, she was gorgeous, she was brilliant, she had a wicked wit. I started jacking my cock, and tried to think of fucking Chelsea, but something in what she said had a hold on me. I couldn't think of fucking her. Instead I could only think of the sexiest thing on my mind. To my surprise that thought was the image of my friend Jack. Not just Jack mind you - but Jack fucking Chelsea. Chelsea down on all fours, with Jack's thick meaty penis thrusting in and out of her vagina, and me lying on the floor beneath him looking at his balls and his ass, yearning to lick them where they joined but also afraid at the same time.

"Remember Alex, don't cum. Now tell me when you're getting hot." Chelsea purred, but I heard her soothing voice telling me to not be afraid, to go ahead and lick Jack where I wasn't supposed to.

"Now Alex, remember, don't cum. Once you do, that's it, you're out of here - and I don't care how you complain. What I need you to do is relax. Keep playing with yourself, I am going to go through a script and I want you to only focus on my voice. The only words that you hear will be my voice, do you understand that in order for this go off smoothly and without a hitch you need to listen to the soft soothing tones of my voice and continue to play with yourself. As you become more relaxed, your erotic feelings will increase, but if you loose my voice, or fail to focus correctly you will loose your erection.

Do you understand me because I am trying to be clear, the more you listen and focus only on the soothing and relaxing rhythm of my voice, the harder your penis will become and the more intense the feeling of your erotic pleasure, but if you choose to defy me, which is always your right the consequences will be that you lose erotic sensations. Ok Alex, nod if you understand me."

I nodded.

"Good good, you're doing wonderfully, now continue to relax and play with your penis. I want you now to imagine that you are standing in front of a pink and yellow house. This is an unusual house though. It's twelve feet high, twelve feet wide, thirty-six feet long. There are three doors, one next to the other. And the house stands over a basement. There are three steps that lead up to the house.

Picture the house and play with your penis a little more slowly now in a very relaxed way that keeps you on edge a bit without going over the edge I want you to walk up and open the front door. As you do, you step into the first room. It's a very unusual room because there is only one piece of furniture in the room, a reclining chair. The carpeting, the walls, the ceiling, and the upholstery on the chair are all a beautiful sunny yellow. This is the Yellow Room. The chair looks so inviting that you walk over to it, sit down in it, and push it back into a reclining position. You feel so relaxed, and as you do, you let your mind drift to a pleasant experience of the past thirty days.

A pleasant experience of the past thirty days in which you became sexually aroused in some kind of way, this may be a quiet thought you had, the site of someone, a sexual experience or a desire, but whatever it is, I want you to go back to that place where you were aroused and breath in and out as you continue to stroke your dick just so to the point that it is fully hard but not so much so that you go over the verge - remember now that all of your sexual pleasure is related to the sound of my voice and the level of your concentration.

The more you relax, the deeper you allow yourself to fall into the spell the more erotic pleasure you feel. There you go as you descend deeper and deeper into the trance you feel an erotic charge fill your body so that your nipples become warm, your face flushed, and even your little ass feels peaked, as though ready for something to enter it. With each quiet deep breath you take in like that you fall deeper into the trance and as your reward for falling into a relaxed state is the continuation of your sexual pleasure.

Now that memory of that special sexual experience is causing you to feel even more relaxed. But it's time to get up from the chair you've been sitting in and move through the house on to the second doorway, go up to the second doorway and step inside filled with anticipation and excitement for what it might bring you.

This room is almost identical to the first, except the color is gold. This is the Gold room, and there is that reclining chair in the center of the room. Since your experience was so good the first time, you walk to that reclining chair again, sit down in it, and now you just lean back. As you do, you bring into your mind the memory of a very pleasant experience of the past twelve months - the past year, an experience where you were highly erotically charged. As you remember this moment you feel the same erotic sensation fill your body but without doubt or shame. Slowly breathe in and out and think of your dick being hard and set your mind so it is prepared for sexual gratification.

All right, it's time to get up from that chair, and you move into the third room. This is the Blue room. It's exactly like the first two, except for the color. You walk to that chair, you sit down in it, and you lean back. But as you lean back, there's something very interesting occurring. What's occurring is that the chair now is on a hydraulic hoist, and it begins to slowly move down. It's going down into that lower level, passing right down through the floor. As you're going right down, deeper, sitting in a very relaxed comfortable position. Now it stops, and you're down into the basement. As you stand up from the chair, there's one door ahead with a sign that says, "The Room of Nothingness."

You walk to the door, turn the knob, and step inside. As you do, your eyes narrow down and you hesitate, because it's very dim in this room and the door closes behind you. There's a strange feeling beneath your feet, because you're standing on a foam rubber pad which is three inches thick.

Now the door is closed and your eyes slowly become accustomed to the gloom. There is a kind of a rosy glow in the room. You take a few more steps in and you decide to just sit down. Now you sit down and you feel this soft foam, three inches thick, cradling you so comfortably that you just decide to lay back.

Now all the light is gone and the room is filled with nothingness. As you lie there, that nothingness moves across your mind. You mind is filled with thoughts of me and ways that you can please me and the main way that you can please me is very simple so you feel extremely relieved that pleasing me is so easy and at the same time so exiting for you.

The way that you can please me is by being a gorgeous, beautiful, succulent 19 year old girl. Not any old girl, but a true beauty. I want you to take a moment and allow yourself to imagine this girl, the girl is what your unconscious chooses as the perfect size and weight, first I want you to picture what the perfect females beautiful painted toes would look like, would they be polished or clear, what is the color of the polish, are you wearing shoes, or are you still barefoot.

Look down at your gorgeous beautiful perfect youthful feet and imagine the curve of your heal running into a beautifully smooth and perfect calf. Your calf is exactly how it should be for the most beautiful girl in the world, shaped just as it should be and you can picture it taught and firm and curved as though you were on tip toes stretching upward with until your thighs tensed in that incredibly beautiful way your gorgeous thighs tense, look down and see your incredible thighs, show them to yourself, allow yourself to enjoy their shape and texture as they slope upward and then curve ever so delicately back towards your vigina.

Yes, now I want you to imagine your vagina - your perfect little vagina, take a moment and sit cross-legged, let your cute girly skirt hike up and examine the folds of your pussy. Maybe its shaved clean or groomed in a way that's appealing to you, after all you are most incredibly gorgeous and beautiful girl in the entire world and your vagina looks just as you would expect the most perfect and succulent lickable, fuckable vagina to look.

Oooooh notice your vagina is tingling, down there at the base of it by your perineum, the clean smooth beautiful stretch of skin that stretches achingly from your vagina to your asshole. Your asshole is so beautiful, pink and rosey, like a little deliciously clean button surrounded by two incredibly toned and shaped globes of your perfect ass. You love your ass don't you? You think your ass is the most incredible ass ever, and it feels so good now as you get on your hands and knees and arch your back so that your pert tight ass sticks high up in the air, and your flat incredible tummy stretches taught.

What does your stomach look like? Do you have tan lines from your sexy bikini, is your belly button pierced, like a little tart, and goodness, imagine your breasts hanging from your chest. Doesn't it feel incredibly to have round beautiful breasts, the most incredible breasts in the entire world? I bet it does. What kind of breast do you have, imagine their size and their shape, look down at your chest and allow yourself to see your wonderful breasts. In your mind call them your tits, your man pleasers, and know that men watch you as you walk down the street desiring your pretty little ass and your perfect tits, your flat little stomach, the curve of your thigh and your beautiful face. Passing a store window you look at your face. You're not surprised, you know you're beautiful, but looking back in the reflection is your image, the image of the most striking and incredible woman in the world. Gosh you are gorgeous. Look at your flowing hair. What color is it? And your eyes. Are your sparkling eyes gorgeous? You bet they are. Pools of delicious color tempting and taunting anyone who looks in them and that mouth, oh that mouth with those full lips, that thick glossy lipstick, no man could ever resist you, and it occurs to you that that is exactly what you want to be. Irresistible to men, to have men desire you and follow you down the street, call you names and use you for their sexual pleasure.

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byCute Little Thing© 13 comments/ 307625 views/ 36 favorites

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