A Little Light Hypnosis

Good evening if you've just joined us, although having said that where the bloody hell have you been? Yes, you'll know from the warmth of the welcome that you can only be listening to Pure Blether FM. And I'm pleased to report that a certain flame-haired beauty has just elegantly glided into the studio, so I'll waste no time in handing over to her for ten minutes that, so I'm told, could literally change your life. I still need to be convinced about that, Ursula.

Well, Pete, if you bother to stay and listen, rather than nipping off to wolf down some utterly revolting-looking sandwiches like you normally do, you might just have more fun along the way than you bargained for. Hi everyone, my name's Ursula James. If you haven't heard the slot before, you might remember me from my TV show -- in which case you'll know I'm one of the UK's leading hypnotherapists. I'm proud of having helped thousands of people, people just like you, improve their quality of life in a whole variety of ways -- some large, some small.

But there are literally millions more people out there -- and I bet you're one of them -- who could benefit from the incredible power of my hypnotic suggestions. Without doubt the greatest frustration of my work is that there's no way I can reach out and help you all. And I bet I can guess what some of you might be thinking at this point. Even if I set up a practice right at the bottom of your street, you'd still be in no position to fork out for my exorbitant fee -- am I right? Well, there may be some truth in that, I have to admit. But the good news is that if you want to use hypnotherapy to transform YOUR life, you don't even need to have me in the room. Each and every one of you possesses the same amazing talent, but one you might not know you have yet. It's a talent for reaching inside yourself to boost your own confidence, repair your broken relationships, overcome your most crippling phobias, or to address absolutely any other problem that is preventing you from being the person you were born to be. Over the next few minutes, I'm going to equip you with the tools to find that talent, using some simple self-hypnosis techniques.

Again, I think I can hear some of your objections flying back at me as I speak. "Did she really say each and every one of you? No, not me. It'll never work for me." Funnily enough, I recently received quite an amusing letter along those very lines from somebody called Ian from Leicester. This is what he had to say. "Hi Ursula, been watching your TV programme. Sorry to have to break this to you, but you're talking complete bollocks when you say that you could hypnotise anybody in the world. I think a lot of your clients -- well, the guys anyway -- must just be really polite. They don't have the heart to admit you never get them under. Want to know why it doesn't work? We're blokes, that's why! Women might be different, but our minds go exactly where they want to. Don't you know we think about sex every seven bloody seconds? Why else do you think I can sit and watch your show, which I would otherwise find completely tedious, and yet be utterly glued to the screen for a whole hour? Sorry, darling, but if I was sitting in a dark room, listening to a hot babe like you speaking soft words to me, there'd be one thought in my mind and it wouldn't be sending me to sleep any time soon."

I bet everyone is thinking I'm only reading that letter out because I'm about to take up the challenge, and prove my techniques even work on Ian. Well, perhaps I will in a minute. But if you're listening, Ian, I'll tell you what I really find interesting about your letter. It's the tone. What you really wrote to tell me is that I could never successfully hypnotise you because you would be so distracted by your overwhelming sexual attraction towards me. But you couldn't say that directly, could you? It's as if you thought you had to put up a big sign-post saying "this is an ironic laddish joke", otherwise it would be a terrible thing to say. But why? Anyone who knows even the basics of male psychology understands precisely what your attraction really means. If you were being really honest you could have said "I saw you on the television one night, and within two seconds I knew I wanted to track you down, remove your clothes, spread your legs, put my penis inside you, and pump my sperm deep into you." And yet I have the feeling that it never once occurred to you that it would be acceptable for you to tell me that, and that I could appreciate such honesty. Men want to impregnate women, and women quite often let them -- but apparently not you, yet. And for you to be cut off from that side of your maleness by irrational shame, shame you're probably not even aware you had...I think that's so sad. But more than that, it's the kind of problem I help people with all the time.

So here we have a perfect example of somebody with a problem that could be solved using my techniques, and he might be listening to this programme. So, Ian, if you're there, I'm hoping you might be in a room on your own. And I'm hoping there might be a nice, comfy chair in that room. If all those boxes are ticked, then I think I'm ready to begin that challenge to prove that you're capable of being hypnotised. But remember this is not really about me doing anything, it's about you learning from my example how you might hypnotise yourself. The tool you need to do that is something personal to yourself, a way of distracting yourself from the world around you. In a sense that's all hypnosis is, a kind of distraction. It has to be something that is guaranteed to keep your full attention, and that you can reliably use to direct your thoughts to wherever you want them to go. And the wonderful thing about your letter is that you've shown me the very thing that's going to do the trick for you. Yes, you've guessed it, it's that animal lust for my body that you're so ashamed of. So let's see if this works. All you have to do is listen to my instructions, and see if you can follow them -- but it has to be every one of them. And when you obey my very last instruction, I'll have proved my point. What's in it for you then, I hear you ask? Oh, I think you might enjoy the ride...

The first thing we're going to do is get you comfortable. Very comfortable. Perhaps more comfortable than you've ever been before in your entire life. Take off your watch if you've got one on. Kick off your shoes and socks if you're wearing them. Now unbuckle the belt on your trousers. If you're wearing a shirt, undo the top couple of buttons. And then...all the other buttons as well. In fact, just slip the shirt off. And we could probably do without the trousers while we're at it. Sorry, am I hurrying you? No rush at all, as long as the lot comes off. There we are. Now we're almost ready. Oh, perhaps you're wondering about your underwear? Well, there's no point in half-measures, so you'd best drop them as well. Maybe it seems disconcerting that I need you to be naked, but bear with me -- no pun intended. All will become clear.

Now, walk over to that comfy chair, and take a seat. Sink right into it, down, down into its deeps. No, that's nowhere near enough. You're going to let the chair take your entire weight, you're not going to be left carrying even one ounce of your body weight. Soon you'll feel as light as a feather. We're still not there, though, are we? So, now...I want you to think about me. Just me and nothing else. Imagine I'm sitting uncomfortably close to you, my face almost touching yours...but not quite. Focus on my face. Imagine looking deep into my eyes. Now notice my hair. Pete called me a flame-haired beauty...you'd agree with that, I'm sure. Think about how my hair would feel against your skin if only it were to brush against your face. And out of the corner of your eye, catch the bulge of my breasts beneath my thin white blouse. Notice how the more you've focussed on my face and hair and eyes and hint of my breasts it's as if I'm the only thing that exists apart from you. The rest of the world just melts away into oblivion. You don't want to fight that, do you? Didn't think so. And I don't want you to. From now until we're finished, it's just you...and me...and your desire for my body.

If it helps you to keep that focus, close your eyes. Be warned, though, once you do, you won't open them again until I tell you to. Even if you want to, you'll find you can't. But close them anyway. It'll bring you closer to me. Good boy. But we're still not quite touching, are we? Our lips could so easily have met but it hasn't quite happened. Just how much are you longing to touch me, to hold me, taste my lips, the wetness of my tongue...more than anything you want to unwrap my breasts and then...oh the possibilities... Now focus on how that longing is making you feel. Your breath has quickened. Your pulse is racing and your whole upper body is sweating. And yet...isn't it strange how you feel so light now? Light as a feather.

Now I want you to become aware of what's happened to your penis. I think we both know without asking. Isn't it funny how an erection feels so much more exposed to the world when you're naked, even if there's nobody there to see it? That contrast between the open air enveloping it, and the fires of desire that you'd tried to keep secret bursting within.

So you've got a boner to end them all, and it feels like every bit of your lust is on show, whether you wanted it to be or not. But beneath that familiar ache you've known a thousand times, can you notice something else? It's a deeper longing, a wanting, locked deeper in your groin, deeper almost than your soul, and you've been suppressing it instinctively for so long you've almost forgotten it was there. But there -- now, do you feel it? Deep beneath that barrier where it can never get out. Unless you let it out. Part of you wants to so very much, but you're scared. You're ashamed because you know what that longing really is. It's the need -- not an idle wish or a dream -- an absolute NEED to feel yourself inside my body right now, to melt your whole being into me. And to allow yourself that need would seem so wrong. But what if I gave you permission to feel that way? What if I told you I wanted you to feel the bliss of being inside my body? If I told you I wanted it to happen, would that need burst through the barrier, surge its way up through the heart of your penis and scream for its release? And what if I were to tell you that I'm so wet now, that I'm actually thinking about you barging through my slit?

But we don't stop there. I know you've come with me this far, followed every instruction I've given you. I know you can follow this one as well, because you're going to imagine something you've already imagined in writing your letter to me. You see, since you shut your eyes, you've actually been in my office, in the middle of a session with me. Many things are the same as they were in your previous location. There's a comfy chair in my office, so that's why you haven't noticed the difference. The instructions I gave you in this reality were to close your eyes, and not open them, speak or move until I told you to, but I haven't said anything since then. And, yes, you're still completely naked. The difference is that I'm with you -- for real, this time. The room's dark, but I'm sitting close and I can see you. The whole of you. Every part of you. And there's one other crucial difference in this reality. I have given you no permission to think of me in a sexual way. In fact, I forbid it. I don't say it out loud, you just know that's the way it is. Have you no sense of shame, lad? You're naked! You've pointing your erection at me! You want to run away or make up some flimsy excuse, but you can't. Remember, you can't move, you can't speak. You're rooted to the chair, paralysed by your guilty lust. The only thing that can possibly absolve your blame now is to lose your erection -- and you've got seconds to do it.

Because, you see, I have one final instruction for you to carry out. One more important than all the others put together. The one that will definitively prove the point one way or the other.

Bend your dick, Ian.

Oh. Seems you might have been right after all. There is one person in the world who I can't help. Ah well, not to worry. After that little entertaining diversion, and for everyone APART from people in Leicester who waste my time with bloody offensive letters, here's that guide to self-hypnosis I promised you...