Oriental Magic: Asian slut by hypnosis

Slanted eyes enslaved …Mistress I obey

It did not happen exactly like this… for memory is such a fickle thing…

He was enslaved, and sent Me this. I share it now with you.

It was late at night when I was surfing the Internet, looking for something that would allow me to rest from the tiring day I had been gone through. In those moments, reading about hypnosis always showed to be a nice way of learning and having fun at the same time (“fun” meaning a lot of things, most of them not suitable for words). It was in one of those days that I found the Mind Mistress homepage. I was reading through the introductions of the many hypnotists displayed there, when a sudden urge made me click on the chat room link.

What a nice surprise it was when a gentle greeting came flashing in my screen, saying: “Hello, how can I help you?” For those who have an attraction for erotic hypnosis, finding a person behind the usual advertisement is certainly a reason for joy. I told her how much I liked the site, and how happy I was to be able to talk to the person responsible for such an appealing resource. The letters in the screen politely thanked me. I was excited beyond words.

We talked about many things, finding many interests in common. I was rather impressed with the knowledge the person on the other side of the screen displayed. We talked about philosophy, religion, and then moved to lighter themes such as comic books and Japanese animations. Surprisingly, it was only in this point that we started talking about hypnosis and the things that were possible to be brought up through it. Suddenly, the letters asked me what was my interest in the subject. I wrote that I always found the idea of experimenting how deeply one can be influenced by hypnotic suggestions: being able to fly, changing into animals, and transforming even one’s gender.

Yet, I had reservations with the whole thing. I was quite certain such experience could hardly be produced, even more through the Internet, with letters in a screen. Frankly, I received with suspicion her statement that not only it could be done, but that that was her specialty. She started giving me an idea of how the process was done, and I must confess I found myself very excited reading all those explanations, to the point of writing it down, telling her the whole idea was fascinating me.

She continued the explanations, and I was suddenly feeling my behaviour changing strangely: from the inquisitory doubts, moving towards an awkward kind of receptiveness. It came to a point where I interrupted her with the question:

— How come I feel so docile and subservient?

And she replied:

— Because you are already falling under My spell…

And it certainly felt that way, as if a spell was starting to be laid over my head as a veil floating in the air. My mind felt dizzier and dizzier.

— If I were to count to 10 right now… you would go into a deep trance.

My fingers started to feel heavy, spongy. It was getting harder to think. I started wondering why I could not come up with anything intelligent to say.

— Would I?

— Yes you would. People don’t realize they’re going into trance with Me until it’s too late.

— Well, I am feeling a bit weird…

— Yes you do… you feel weird… and subservient… and strangely wanting to please Me… And pay attention to what I say… more and more…

And it was true, I was feeling as if the only actions I was able to take were the ones she commanded me to. I couldn’t think of anything else. I couldn’t find anything to write, but could only keep on reading.

— And in fact, I think you’re feeling something shifting inside of you…that your mind seems to be emptying perhaps?

— It is getting harder to think.

— Indeed. With every word you read… it gets harder to think…and you slip more and more away… getting very hard to think…of anything other than the words on the screen… and the words are becoming more and more important…aren’t they?

— Important words…

— Yes… replacing your thoughts… more and more… as your own thoughts seem to drain away… don’t they?

— Drain away…

— Draining away more and more… replaced by my words my thoughts… and my will… you want to stare at the screen… more and more… natural to stare blankly… empty… staring… more and more mindlessly… harder and harder to think… anything but my words… and in fact… my words feel better in your head than your own words… don’t they?

— Your words feel better than my words – I replied, unable to think of anything else.

— My thoughts feel better than your thoughts… don’t they?

— Your thoughts better than my thoughts.

— It feels soooo good… to have no will…to be totally under My control…. totally malleable… totally controlled… it feels so natural… so right… doesn’t it?

— Natural…

— Yessss…and everything I say is totally true, isn’t it?

— Totally true…

— Yess… and you want to obey Me… need to obey Me completely… don’t you?

— Need to obey you…

At this point, I lost track of most of my memories. Most of what I have to tell comes to my mind in fragments, as if I was supposed to remember them. Mysteriously, I couldn’t find any log of the conversation saved in my computer, although I am certain I would have saved it in any other condition. I remember vaguely being asked obvious questions such as my name, my gender, my sexual preferences and experiences. I remember answering them all as frankly as possible. I told her I was a heterosexual male, with all the normal experiences a heterosexual male is supposed to have: dating and making out with girlfriends, one or two one-night stands, but nothing worth bragging about. She asked me if I wanted to try what the other gender as about. I think I told her I did. I do remember telling her I wasn’t gay or anything, though: I quite detested the idea, actually.

The next thing I remember was experimenting the most fantastic orgasm I ever did in my whole life. It was not the one shot, coming from deep inside, that I had always experimented. It came in waves, in a crescendo that kept renovating and shaking me in spasms of pure, absolute ecstasy…

And then I was all blank again.

I remember, then, continuing the conversation as if nothing had happened.

— So which ones do you know? I mean, surely you’ve seen a lot of Japanese animations. Any that comes to mind?

— Yes, well… Just a second, where was I…

— I was asking you if you had ideas for animes I’d like

— Well, I have seen one or two. There is a large range of themes in Japanese animation, from child stuff to hardcore sex.

— Have you seen any?

— Yes, one or two.

— Tell me about them a bit…

— Well, they are basically about girls dressed in heroin costumes, being stupid and naughty, until they have intercourse with men or creatures with ridiculously humongous sexual organs.

— Japanese have certain things about words of power, don’t they?

— I guess so.

— Want me to tell you a secret? You have to visualize something while you say words of power… that’s what makes them magical… But the right thing must be visualized for the right words to have effect… Which is why people tend to used words from old languages for spells…because they know the visualization that goes with them… But I’ve found a few that work with modern English…

— Really?

— Sure. For instance, I have one that will make any girl orgasm.

— C’mon!

— It also works with homosexuals, and those who have a girl part in them.

— You gotta be kidding me.

— Let me see… the words are easy… I have to remember the visualization properly though…

— I’m waiting

— Ok, here goes…

And it was all blank once more.

And then I opened my eyes again. There was another phrase blinking at me.

— So, are you a man or a woman?

— What a weird question! You know I’m a man!

— Really? Take a look at yourself.

I looked down at my legs, feeling rather stupid, and almost fell down from the chair. First, I was completely naked, which was weird enough. But secondly, my legs were long, smooth and hairless as a Barbie doll brought to life. I looked at my hands, and they were thin and long. And then I turned towards the mirror. Facing me was a horrified Japanese girl, with long silky black hair, a pointy little nose, small mouth with thick lips… And then I ran my hands between my thighs. Nothing! Nothing but a strange slit amongst the hair. I took a deep breath, trying to figure out what was happening. Obviously, I couldn’t, so I ran to the computer, scared.

— My legs! I look like a girl! I AM a girl!

— Yes, you are. A Japanese naughty little girl.

— This can’t be right! I’m a man!

— Really? So tell me your name!

— My name is Slutty Keiko! – And I couldn’t believe my own fingertips.- Wait a minute, that’s not my name!

— Oh, isn’t it? Try saying it out loud.

I concentrated on my name, trying to find it out in the confusion of shocking thoughts inside my mind. And then I saw it, I saw my name right in the middle of those random thoughts, shining as a light in the middle of the darkest of nights:

— Slutty Keiko! – And I couldn’t decide which was more surprising: recognizing that as my name, or the thin, high-pitched, velvet-like voice that exclaimed it.

— So, how did that go?

— There’s something wrong here…

— No there isn’t. Everything will be clear right now. Look besides you. Isn’t there a box sitting in your table?

— Yes, there is.

— Open it up.

And so I did. Inside, there laid a black catsuit, opera gloves, high heeled boots, a g-string corset, a collar and make up.

— What are these things? How did they come up here.

— Slutty Keiko is a naughty girl…

And then my mind went empty. No thought would come out from it. I could only stare at the screen and wait for the words.

— Slutty Keiko, I want you to slowly dress the catsuit you just found. Run it ssssssssslowly through your legs and arms, veeeeery slow, feeeeeeling goooooood, soooooo good. As you do it, you will feel your soft skin against the silky fabric, hugging you, evolving you… and as you feel the pleasure of it, you will know I am the source of it, so that when you are all wrapped up, you will feel more and more subservient. HOSIERY is SUBMISSION. So you will feel absolutely submissive to me.

— Yes, Mistress.

So I fitted my tiny little feet in the stocking, pulling them up slowly, feeling the moisture coming from me as I did it. I couldn’t avoid moaning as I felt the pattern embracing my huge boobs. When I finished dressing it, I scratched my thighs against each other, feeling so sexy and obedient at the same time…

— I’m ready, Mistress…

— Good. Now pick up the corset. You must pull the g-string as deep as possible, and close it as tight as you can. As you feel the string pulling against your ass, you will remember the man you used to be, and as you feel the excitement of the string against your anus, you will recognize what a slut you are now, and surrender to it. The CORSET is VULGARITY. So you will become a whore to me.

— Yes, Mistress.

And I picked up the firm corset, pushing it as deep as I could and tightening it, closing my hips in its firm push. I felt the strips in my shoulders pulling the string against my ass, and thought of how I used to be. And then I felt my hands dropping relaxed against my hips, and a sole thought came bursting inside my head: I need a cock.

— Your slut is ready, Mistress.

— Very good. You are now going to put your boots on. You will zipper then slowly until you have it firmly molding your long legs. As you feel your weight being supported by the tip of your toes, and your ankles lifting inside the heels, you will feel yourself becoming more and more attractive and seductive. The BOOTS are POWER. So you will become sexy to me.

— Yesss, Mistress.

So I fitted my little feet inside the shiny boots, admiring my long legs as I pulled the zipper up my legs, feeling as if I could seduce the entire world only by flashing my shiny, booted legs towards it.

— You sexy slut is ready, my Mistress.

— I’m very pleased with you. Now pick up the gloves. You will slowly slide them over your arms. As you do it, you will feel your arms craving the touch of flesh, as your mind will start craving penises, vaginas, nipples, and ears, anything that might give pleasure. The GLOVES are ACTION. So you will be always horny for me.

— Oh, yesss, my Mistress…

I slid the gloves over my arms, which were already covered by the lovely catsuit. I started feeling something missing in my hands: I wanted to hold tight a cock in my hands, or finger some pussy. I needed badly something against my body, something inside it… I couldn’t hold it anymore.

— Oh, Mistress, I’m so hot… Your slut is so ready, Mistress.

— Keiko, you’re such a whore… Now put on the make up and the collar. They will complete the process. As you apply the make up and feel the collar against your neck, choking you, you will become Slutty Keiko for good. The MAKE UP is TRANSFORMATION. Be SLUTTY KEIKO for me!

— Oh, Yes, YES, Mistress!

I closed the collar around my neck and hurried to the mirror. As I spread the bright, red lipstick and the white mascara, the dark shadow and the eyeliner, I felt the few remains of my old self disappearing. I was finally Keiko, I had always been, the horny slut, craving for sex and ready to give it for anyone who asked for it. I played with my nipples and sucked the lipstick as a small penis as I admired myself in the mirror. With a little scream of joy, I hurried back to the computer.

— Slutty Keiko is ready, my Mistress. What can I do for you?

— You horny bitch, there is a whole WORLD of things you will do for me. You are my slave now, my slut slave, with nothing in your mind but sex and subservience. Look at the door, slut. You are going out it now, and you are going to make what you were born to: you are going to suck as many cocks as you can. You will go to every men you see and tell them: How about five dollars for a blowjob?- like the bimbo slut you are!

— Oh, yes, Mistress, Slutty Keiko is so happy!

— Then go! Go, slut slave!

Everything else is a big blur. I can’t remember how many men I met. I know there were many. But I can’t remember much else. In one determined point, as the lights of day started insinuating and I had drank as much sperm as any living thing could handle, I decided to go back home.

And then I opened my eyes once more.

There I was, sitting in front of the computer, my old self, looking at the screen, as the words stared back at me:

— So, are you a man or a woman? And most important: have you ever been hypnotized?