The Hypnosis Files 2 (hypno)
by z119z
© 2013 by the author
Case 2012/J
(As in all case summaries, names and locations have been changed to protect the privacy of the individuals discussed.)
A substantial (and lucrative) part of my mainstream hypnosis activities involves seminars for business clients who want to improve staff performance by increasing focus and concentration or to motivate employees by fostering identification with the company’s interests. The subject in Case 2012/J came to me through Michael B______, a businessman in Los Angeles who has hired me to work with his sales teams. He must feel the sessions are worth the money because he brings me back every few months to conduct refresher courses.
After one such seminar ended, Michael asked me back to his office. It is not a room for those with a fear of heights or a tendency to vertigo. Curtainless glass walls on three sides of the room reveal a wide swath of the Pacific Ocean and the sky over it. In entering Michael’s office, one steps suddenly from an enclosed corridor in a typical commercial office building onto a platform in the sky. It’s the architectural equivalent of an infinity pool. The floor of Michael’s office is so highly polished that it reflects the scene outside. Just as the far edge of the water in an infinity pool blends with the horizon, the floor of his office appears to join the sky outside. On some days, it’s difficult to tell where the floor ends and the sky begins.
I have been in the office several times, and I still respond instinctively with a shudder. Like others I have observed entering the room, I find it difficult to walk toward the windows. Michael seems to relish that. He likes the contrast between his nonchalant acceptance of the room and visitors’ wary reaction to it. It must be a useful ploy for putting others at a disadvantage. On this particular day, however, Michael was too distracted to notice my momentary hesitation. He motioned me to a chair in front of his desk. As I was sitting down, he said without preamble, “I’m hoping you can help with a problem.” He paused and swiveled his chair to look outside. Michael is a short but powerfully build man—rugged rather than handsome. He is formally polite but naturally dominant in his dealings with others. At least I have found him to be so. I haven’t had occasion to oppose him, but according to gossip he is ruthless until he gets his way. On all the previous occasions I had met him, he was full of confidence, but at the moment he was uneasy about something. He picked up a pen and began fiddling with it—clicking it repeatedly and jiggling it in his hand.
“If I can, I’d be happy to. Why don’t you tell me about it? If it’s something I can’t do, I’ll tell you. It wouldn’t be good for my business if I accepted a project and failed.”
Michael nodded—whether to acknowledge that I had spoken or to show that he agreed with my statement, I do not know. Perhaps both. He kept looking out the window, and his mouth moved as if he were chewing on something—both classic signs of avoidance and a reluctance to talk about something. Finally, he said, “Can you cure stage fright?”
“It depends. I would have to meet the person and talk with him—or her. Sometimes stage fright is easy to deal with. A few sessions can help the person gain the confidence to overcome it. It’s no more than a matter of giving them certain tools and teaching them a few tricks. In other cases the cause of the stage fright may be so deeply rooted in the psyche that attempts to cure it through hypnosis would trigger worse expressions of whatever anxieties are behind the stage fright. Those cases I couldn’t help you with. In such cases, the person would need to see a psychologist or psychiatrist to work through the problem.”
My first thought was that perhaps one of Michael’s children needed help. I moved to head that off. “How old is the person, if I might ask? I never work with minors.”
“Mid-twenties? He graduated college a couple years back. So he must be at least 23, 24?”
I assumed that Michael was speaking of an employee who was having trouble making presentations in public or speaking up in meetings. Whoever it was, it had to be someone whose services Michael wanted to retain and valued enough to hire me to help. “When does the stage fright occur?”
“I have to ask you to sign a non-disclosure agreement before I tell you more.” He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a contract.
Such agreements are not unknown in my line of work. Some clients gain a sense of security in knowing that I am legally bound not to discuss the services I provide them. The contract Michael handed me obliged me not to reveal the names of any of the companies or people involved. Michael knows that I write fictional stories based on my experiences. One clause of the contract required me to submit any story based on what he was about to tell me or what I might undertake to do in response to his lawyers for approval. If I signed the contract, I agreed not to publish the story without their permission and to make whatever changes they stipulated. (I am publishing this account with their permission. With one exception—which I explain below—the changes requested were quite minor and do not affect the substance of the following summary of events.)
By now I was intrigued. What sort of problem would require such an elaborate contract? The only thing I could think of was that a new invention or some sort of proprietary information was involved. Perhaps the subject was a shy scientist or a tongue-tied computer nerd who had trouble making a presentation to a group of people.
I signed and dated both copies of the contract and handed them back to Michael. Having my signature seemed to reassure him. He leaned back in his chair, steepled his hands in front of his face, and tapped his mouth with the tips of his index fingers a few times.
“I have many businesses. My involvement in most of them is open. My association with a few of them is kept secret.” He paused and examined the view from his office windows again. “Are you aware that Los Angeles is a center for the adult entertainment industry?”
I nodded. So that was the reason for the non-disclosure agreement. “Yes. I understand a great many porn films are made here.”
Michael grimaced when I used the word “porn.” It was not to his liking. “I own several companies in the adult entertainment industry. Among other services, they produce a great variety of videos catering to many different tastes and interests. In most cases my involvement goes no further than managing the holding company I set up to oversee all these businesses. As long as the businesses show a profit, I leave the day-to-day operations and the details of the product up to in-house managers and the creative teams. There are, however, one or two areas in which I exercise a more hands-on approach—areas that coincide with my own interests.”
Michael continued to be fascinated by the view. Since he had tilted his chair back and was gazing at the hazy sky, there was little worth the amount of attention he was devoting to it. He was trying to dissociate himself from what he was saying. His posture seemed to indicate that he would abandon the conversation at the first hint of unease or resistance on my part.
“That must be rewarding.” I floated the suggestion to gauge his reaction, even while trying to project a matter-of-fact competence, a business-like approach. In truth I was beginning to be fascinated. “Where does the stage fright come in?”
“The young man I mentioned earlier—when you asked about the age of person with stage fright—we recently put him under contract. As you will see when you meet him, he is very attractive. Sort of all-American boy looks with a stud’s body. Of course, those guys are a dime a dozen, but what sets him apart from the others is his endowment. He’s been spectacularly gifted by nature.”
“What’s the problem?”
“The problem is that he has a peculiar form of stage fright. He’s fine in private. I can attest to that. It’s just that whenever he gets in front of a camera and the film crew, he can’t get an erection.”
“Ah, rather like those guys who have a shy bladder and can’t use a public urinal.”
“Not quite. They can always go into a stall. Felipe just can’t get it up if there’s more than one person in the room. We tried him with one of our most skillful bottoms. We put the camera and crew behind a one-way mirror, but it still was no good. He’s a shrinker rather than a grower if he thinks anyone is watching.”
In the end, I promised to talk with Felipe. I had to reiterate my caution, however. “His problem may be more than a case of stage fright. It might just be that he doesn’t really want to do this, and, even if I were willing to reprogram him to want to be a porn actor—which I’m not—that would require so much time that it probably wouldn’t be worth the cost to you.”
Michael and I left it at that. I didn’t press him about the reasons behind his interest in Felipe. I agreed to speak with the young man, and Michael agreed to abide by my assessment of the situation.
*****
“I gotta have this job. I need the money.”
Once I met Felipe, I could understand Michael’s wish to cure Felipe of his stage fright. If ever a man was made to star in porn, excuse me, in adult entertainment films, it was Felipe. [My original text contained a description of Felipe. Michael’s lawyers insisted that this be deleted before I published this account. We agreed that I could state that Felipe was extremely masculine in appearance and generously favored by Nature. You will have to imagine the rest.]
Felipe and I had been discussing possible causes of his inability to perform on camera. Or, rather, I had been trying to raise the subject. He was obviously embarrassed about his on-camera ED and insisted that he never had had a problem before. He must have thought I was reluctant to help because he became very argumentative and insisted that I hypnotize him. He was unemployed, and he needed the work. “Ya gotta help me. If I make it in adult films, then I can begin earning money from club appearances and for other stuff.” We didn’t get into what the “other stuff” might be.
Felipe is one of those people with exaggerated notions of how quickly hypnosis works and what can be accomplished through it. Sometimes that works in the hypnotist’s favor. The subject believes so strongly in the powers of hypnosis that he lets down his guard and accepts it as inevitable that the hypnotist will be able to reprogram him readily. (Sometimes, especially when the hypnosis does not have the expected results immediately, the subject rejects hypnosis as thoroughly as he accepted it before.)
I agreed to hypnotize Felipe, mainly because I needed more information about the causes of his on-camera ED. My first goal was to get him to feel relaxed enough around me to be able discuss the problem openly. Michael’s people prepared a room for me to use. They were very cooperative and prompt in meeting my specifications. Given Felipe’s nervousness and performance anxiety, I tried to make the room as non-threatening an environment as possible. There was no bed, not even a couch. Both Felipe and I sat in overstuffed recliners. In the first session, I had him sit upright; he was trusting enough by the second session that he readily adopted my suggestion that he would be more comfortable if he pushed the recliner back so that he could lie in a more prone position. For the first session, I left all the lights on and the curtains open. Later I closed the curtains and reduced the amount of light to twilight levels. Unbeknownst to Felipe, the sessions were being taped by hidden cameras, and the room was miked so that Michael could listen in.
I took Felipe through an extra-long induction that avoided the traditional “your limbs feel heavy” and “you are getting sleepy” scripts for hypnosis. I knew that he was a baseball fan. I had him close his eyes, and then I asked him to imagine that he was watching a game on TV. I described it closely and had him follow the path of the ball from pitcher to catcher and back again, over and over. I made him see the catcher signaling the pitcher, the wind-up, the throw, the catch. I made him experience sitting in the stands. The sun was bright overhead and warm on his skin as he sat in the stands. It was a boring game. The crowd was yawning. He relaxed. He nodded off. He began to drift and float like one of the clouds over the stadium.
When I was satisfied that he was truly in a deep trance, I implanted the suggestions that he liked hypnosis, it made him feel good, and he wanted to repeat the experience. I told him that in future sessions he would slip easily in a trance. That was all.
In the next sessions, I introduced the subject of trust and suggested that he found it very easy to talk openly with me about any subject. It worked. At the end of the fourth session, he began discussing his stage fright.
“It’s not that I’m afraid of the cameras. It’s just that they’re asking me to do things I don’t want to do.”
“What do you mean?”
“They want me to be a top. I guess because of the way that I look. Everybody assumes I’m a top.”
“But you’re not?”
“No.”
“You should tell them that. There are lots of gay videos, and they need bottoms. There shouldn’t be a problem.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“We can deal with that in the next session. If you can tell me, you can tell them.”
“No, you don’t understand. I’m not embarrassed to be a bottom. It’s just that I only want to bottom to certain types of tops.”
“Tell me.”
“I only like tops who are much shorter than me. At least a foot shorter. Five feet five tops. Shorter is even better. And I like them to be small. Muscular but thin. And hairless. With small cocks.”
An image of a certain person came immediately to mind. I had never seen the man’s cock and can’t testify as to its size, but the rest of Felipe’s description fit him. And Felipe was more relaxed and cheerful in that person’s presence than he was in anyone else’s.
*****
“Nobody will accept that.” Michael paced back and forth. A director and someone from marketing were present in the room, and both nodded in agreement. “Even as a novelty, no one would want that. We couldn’t sell enough copies to cover our costs. Besides, Felipe’s ass is so developed and hard, a small cock can’t even penetrate him.” (Was he speaking from personal experience?)
“I have an idea.” Everyone turned to look at me.
*****
I adopted a two-pronged approach to curing Felipe’s problem. My first tactic was to develop Felipe’s outer top. (Perhaps it would be more accurate to say “to create” Felipe’s outer top.) In seeking to overcome stage fright and conditions like it, it’s essential to avoid approaching it as a problem of stage fright. It’s best not to use the term in working with the subject since the phrase itself reminds him of the existence of the condition and reinforces that it is a problem. I like to come at these things obliquely and use hypnosis to create the desired behavior rather than attempt to cure the “problem.”
Therefore, in this stage of Felipe’s reprogramming, I put him into a deep trance and spoke to him of how much he enjoyed performing and how much pleasure he received from pleasing Michael by carrying out the director’s orders. “You get so hard and aroused from doing what the director tells you to do. It makes Michael so happy when you perform for the director. You get so much pleasure from making Michael happy. You love to show off. You love it when your performance arouses the crew. You love it when your partners in the scene react by becoming aroused by you. All these things give you so much pleasure that you get very hard and very excited and very anxious to please and obey and perform as you are directed. Later when others watch the video, your performance will arouse them and the thought of all those people watching you arouses you even more.” Over and over, the same thoughts—doing what he is told to do gives him so much pleasure; being watched and knowing that others are being aroused and will be aroused by his performance makes him perform all the harder.
*****
Two months later I received a copy of Felipe’s debut video. His stage fright was a thing of the past. He had no trouble topping four partners on camera.
If you watch the film, you will see Felipe and his four partners engaged in the usual variations of male oral and anal sex. The plot is minimal, and the dialogue consists largely of moans and groans. Each of the four bottoms worships Felipe’s body and begs Felipe to let him have “it.” Felipe’s impressive tool springs into view as the bottom pulls his jeans down. As the camera zooms, Felipe sways gently from side to side. Just enough to set his cock in motion back and forth. There are subjects who would easily become hypnotized by the motion. In the film the drooling and moaning bottom sucks Felipe off. The bottom then offers his ass to Felipe, and Felipe obliges. The bottom screams as Felipe enters him, and his face screws up in agony. Soon, however, the bottom pleads with Felipe to “fuck me harder,” “ram it into me,” etc., and his cries become moans of ecstasy and finally whimpers of pleasure. At the last moment, Felipe pulls out and shoots copiously over the bottom’s chest and face.
Pretty much the standard fare. What makes the film different, however, is Felipe. He really enjoys the sex, and he moans and groans as much as the bottom. When he comes, he roars with pleasure.
Above I explained the process of creating Felipe’s outer top. That’s what you see when you watch Felipe’s videos. What Felipe sees and experiences is quite different, however. The second tactic for curing his stage fright involved satisfying his inner bottom.
In Felipe’s mind, he is the bottom in each encounter. In reality, it may be his cock that is being sucked, but in Felipe’s mind, he is kneeling before a short, slender man—to him all of them are under five feet—and sucking that man’s cock. He is the one who begs to be fucked. He is the one who lies on his back and lifts his legs, exposing his ass. He is the one who screams as the other man’s cock entered him. He is the one crying out “harder, faster, more, more, more.” The deeper and more powerfully he thrusts into the bottom during his performance before the cameras, the deeper and more powerful the thrust he feels his imaginary top deliver inside himself. He is the one who groans turned to moans and then to whimpers. His are the chest and face splattered by the short, smooth, muscular, small-dicked top’s hot cum.
Felipe delivers everything the director asks him to, and his cock remains rigid throughout each scene. Problem solved. My client is happy. Felipe is happy.
And I left LA a happy man as well—naturally before announcing that I had cured Felipe’s stage fright, I had to test my reprogramming of him and make sure that this now energetic top believed he was in reality being the bottom in the encounter. I was thrilled (although a bit sore in certain areas) to learn that Felipe can now be counted on to deliver what is wanted of him. Felipe assured me that he had never received such a satisfying fuck. In his enthusiasm he offered to meet me whenever his booming career in the adult entertainment industry brings him to Boston.
I like to know that I can stand behind my work (well, to be more accurate, in this case I lay beneath it). Quality control backed by rigorous testing is just a sound business principle.
END for now