Tales of an Unethical Hypnotist

After giving the command phrase, "Deep sleep, Chani. Deep sleep," my 18-year-old daughter slumped back on the couch next to me. Her body limp and her head lulling a bit. I reached over to steady her and to rest her head comfortably against the back of the couch.

One of the biggest pitfalls that amateur hypnotists make is not supporting their subject's head. Neck pain is real, and it can completely derail a hypnosis session.

"Chani, listen carefully to me," I began. "A few moments ago, we were making ou... we were kissing and touching each other. You remember that, don't you?"

She weakly nodded her head in the affirmative.

It occurred to me that I hadn't given a name to this little stress-relieving activity that Chani has been enjoying with me. I almost referred to it as "making out." But that might be a mistake.

Making out carries a whole different set of connotations than does "Daddy's special way of helping me feel better."

Sure, eventually, I wanted Chani to think of me as a sexual partner, someone with whom she eagerly wanted to make-out, but we weren't there just yet. It was best not to ruin this endeavor with a slip of the tongue. (Yes, that was a cheap "dad joke" pun. Sue me.)

I turned my attention back to Chani, "We were kissing and touching, and you liked that, didn't you?"

Again, she nodded.

"It felt good, didn't it?"

A little smile played across her lips as she nodded this time. I could see her tense up as she took in a deep breath. A couple of heartbeats later, she sighed and melted back into the couch, clearly remembering the physical pleasure.

"But you stopped. Why did you stop?"

Her face tensed, and her brow furrowed. It was clear that she was conflicted about answering me.

"It's okay, Chani. I understand there are things you don't want to tell your dad. But, right now, in this moment I am your friend. You see, in this place, you can tell me anything. In this place, I'm just a really good friend. I will only ever speak truth to you, and you can easily speak truth to me.

"In fact, you might find that this place has a particular sort of freedom. Here, you have the freedom to be open and honest. In the waking world, it can sometimes be difficult to be open and honest. Sometimes there are negative consequences..."

Right then, Chani shuddered.

Sometimes, in hypnosis, a person will experience abreaction. It's a physical sign that we've hit on some deeper emotional barrier. It can also signify a release of emotion - though in this case, I was sure it was the former.

She mentioned yesterday that she had been too open with her friend Jessica. My intuition told me this was related.

Thus far, I had been pretty dismissive of the teen drama with her best friend, but maybe I had been too quick to discount it.

As I pondered my daughter's interpersonal struggles, something clicked, and I felt the gears in my head begin turning. An idea started to form but now was not the time.

"Deep sleep, Chani. Deep sleep. Good," I again addressed my daughter. I wanted to keep her deep and focused on the goal at hand. Best to just ignore this emotional insight for the time being. By issuing the familiar phrase, she would leave it behind, and we would avoid the risk of her coming out of trance too soon.

"In this place, there is freedom. So, Chani, allow yourself to feel that sense of freedom. Allow yourself to enjoy that freedom, and simply let me know why you stopped kissing Daddy."

Several seconds went by without a response, but I could see it in the muscles of her face. She was preparing to tell me. It's an interesting aspect of hypnosis. Sometimes, usually in deep hypnosis, it can take a subject an entire minute (which is a long time to sit in silence) to answer a question. So I waited.

After several more seconds passed, I noticed her lips struggling to move (she must have been very deep). I leaned in close and put my ear right up next to her mouth. I could feel her breath against my skin.

"...horny...," she barely managed to get out.

"You stopped kissing daddy because you are horny?"

"...yesss..."

"So, what are you planning to do about it?"

"...take...shower...," her words were getting a little louder and a little clearer.

"You're going to take a shower?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to masturbate?" I asked, thinking about how I was going to handle my own arousal.

"No."

"No? Why not?"

"It's weird," this time her response was perfectly clear, and just below the volume of normal conversation.

Well, that certainly wasn't an answer I was expecting. "It's weird? Can you explain?" I asked.

"It's weird. It's frustrating. I'm not good at it. I've tried it, but I always end up frustrated and angry. I think I'm broken down there."

Okay, see, right here. This is what I'm always going on about. Here we have a beautiful young adult just stepping out into the world. Someone who's just starting to explore romance and sex and she's going into it thinking she's broken. Why!?!

I'll tell you why, because even in a relatively "progressive" household, like my own, the only education she ever received on self-pleasure was from her mother. And I'm 99% certain the only thing her mother ever said was something like, "Sweety, it's perfectly natural to touch yourself down there, just make sure to do it in private."

In my forty some odd years, I've been with a little over a dozen women. You want to know a secret? Not a single one of them got off in the same way.

My first partner came easily from vaginal sex. She didn't need (or necessarily like) her clit to be played with.

Another would only come when I gave her oral.

One needed me to be pumping her cunt while I diddled her clit.

One preferred that I remain still, inside of her, while she worked her clit herself.

Another could only get herself off, after we were otherwise done with sex, while I held her hand and caressed her.

I even had one past partner who would shoot off like a rocket with anal sex, but only if she'd had a couple drinks before.

*******************

Funny aside and true story from the author:

One of my partners could only come after I had unloaded into her. Our first time was actually pretty funny. I had trained myself, trying to be a considerate lover, not to come until my partner had. I could go all night if needed. So here we were, both drenched in sweat, my abs are sore from pumping. My jaw was sore from licking. I was exhausted when I finally, in desperation, pleaded with her, "What do you need to come?!?"

Huffing and puffing, she replied, "I need YOU to come!"

Oh...oops. Well, I flipped that mental switch, and about 45 seconds later, I start filling her up with my seed.

She loses it and starts writhing and screaming and gouging at my back with her nails.

It ended up being a short-lived, bizarre, but very memorable relationship.

*********************

My point being, every woman I've ever been with was different. And most of them were, in some ways, ashamed of it.

I've been with a couple women who absolutely owned their sexuality. They were more than happy to explain exactly what they wanted/needed to get off. They never worried that my feelings might be hurt, or that I might think less of them because they didn't come like the girls in pornos.

You want to know what those women had in common? They learned to masturbate young, and they did it often.

They were rare, though. Most of my partners felt some weird sense of shame that they couldn't get off from vanilla vaginal sex.

Several lost their virginity late (like their mid-20s) because they were terrified of the prospect.

A couple considered their first experience to be traumatic. One woman continued to have nightmares about it years later. (Even though they were consensual acts done within a loving relationship.)

I can't even imagine what that must have been like.

My first experience is a fond memory. We skipped the last few periods of school and drove to my house. There, on my beat-up hand-me-down queen-sized bed, we struggled to line things up so that I could slide into her.

We had no idea what we were doing, so much so that when I finally got it in, I didn't know what to do next. Do I just sit there? Do I move?

I had never seen a porno. I'd never seen two people having sex. And despite my father giving me "The Talk" when I was around 10, and having participated in sex-ed in school, I had absolutely no idea what to do.

Eventually, I decided to move my hips ever so slightly and, POW! I immediately came. But hey, a few minutes later (ah...to be young again) we tried again. And we continued to practice as often as we could for the next few months.

So that was a tale of ignorance that eventually worked out. But that's not how it goes for so many women.

And here was my daughter, admitting to me that she thought she might be "broken" because she's never been able to climax from masturbation.

Maybe, just maybe, her mother, or I, should have sat her down a few years ago and taught her how to explore and what to explore. But, no! If we actually took an interest in the healthy sexual development of our daughter, we would be considered degenerates. We might even face criminal charges.

God, this shit pisses me off. But, hey, maybe it wasn't too late to help.

"Chani," I started, speaking to my daughter, still deep in a hypnotic trance. "I know of a way to help. You know that when you're sad, I have a special way of making you feel better, right?"

"Yes," she said and smiled a little.

"Well, I also have a special way of helping you when you feel frustrated like this. I'm going to teach you, but first, I want us to kiss a little more. Okay?"

"Okay," she responded.

I repositioned myself so that I could hold her in my arms, then leaned in and kissed her lips.

It took a moment or two, but soon enough, we were back into our full-on make-out session. I wanted to make sure Chani was at peak arousal before I moved on to the next step. And just a couple minutes later, based on the way she was squeezing her thighs together, I assumed we were there.

"Chani," I said after breaking our kiss. "In a moment, I'm going to count to five. When I reach the number five, you will be awake. When I reach the number five, it will be 'Time to Play, Chani.' You will fully remember that we have been enjoying some special time together, kissing and touching. You will also be fully aware of just how horny you are, even if 'Time to Play Chani' doesn't have the right words to describe it."

I repeated my instructions twice more, then counted.

"...and five. Eyes open, fully awake."

I waited a few moments for Chani to get her bearings before I continued, "Okay Chani, ready for bed?"

"Awww, do we have to be done. I want to kiss more," came my daughter's reply carrying the affectation of her younger alter-ego, Time to Play Chani.

"Well, that depends. Tell me how you feel."

"Happy. And tingly."

"Uh-huh, anything else? How does your body feel?"

"Good. Umm, my vagina feels kinda itchy, but also good." We had never really done the pet name for privates that most families do. I just always found it silly and stupid, hence her use of the word "vagina."

"Okay, well, I'll tell you what. Why don't you go get your PJs on, brush your teeth, and get into bed. Then, I'll show you my special way of helping you when you feel this way.

"Okay," she replied as she jumped up off the couch and headed off to get ready for bed.

While she did, I went back to my bedroom to check on Marsha, my wife. She was sound asleep. Good.

At that moment, I wasn't sure how far I was going to take this thing with Chani tonight. I wasn't ready -well I didn't believe

she

was ready- for full-on intercourse. Other than that, though? I was feeling pretty ambitious.

With that in mind, I quietly entered my en-suite bathroom to freshen up a little. I washed my cock and balls. (Serious note: I sat here for 3 minutes while typing this, trying to figure out what to call my penis and scrotum. I don't think there are any words which are not entirely gross, or entirely sophomoric. So I just went with "cock and balls.")

I also put a tiny drop of sandalwood oil right at the base of my penis. Many, many years ago, a girlfriend gave me a bottle of sandalwood oil with a little "love note" attached to it, written in Norse runes (which I had to translate). It was all very romantic.

Since then, I have made a habit of putting just a tiny drop near my cock before lovemaking. It's an intriguing, alluring, and sensual scent that women see to really enjoy.

It's still the same bottle. That stuff lasts forever when you use it so sparingly.

Feeling all fresh and smelling great, I once again tiptoed out of my bedroom and down the hall to Chani's room. I found her sitting on her bed, waiting for me.

Interestingly, she was wearing one of my old t-shirts as a nightgown. This, in and of itself, wasn't unusual. What was surprising was that grownup Chani often wore this to bed. Chani had, on the couple times she went to bed as her age regressed alter-ego, worn old pajamas.

This could be a sign that the "barrier" between the two personalities was wearing thin. In truth, I hadn't spent any time reinforcing the separation between them, Time to Work, and Time to Play.

If they collapsed onto each other, it could be detrimental to Chani. I know this and should have addressed it already. Here was another example of how I was potentially allowing my excitement over bedding my daughter, and my lack of planning, to jeopardize this entire undertaking.

"May I join you?" I asked Chani as I walked over to her bed.

"Of course, Daddy," she giggled her reply as she scooted over and lay down, making room for me.

I lay down next to her, our faces only inches apart. "Chani, you are so beautiful. Do you know that? You make me so proud. You make me so happy. I love you so much."

She beamed her reply, "I love you too, Daddy. So much!" Her voice was a little strange. On the one hand, it held the exuberance of her bubbly, younger self, but on the other hand, there was a subtle undertone of a woman in heat.

My attention wavered, for just a breath or two, as I tried to place where I'd heard a voice like that before. Oh, yeah... psycho-bitch ex-girlfriend.

I really hoped it wasn't some crazy form of foreshadowing. And with that thought in mind, I decided to make shoring up Chani's competing personalities more of a priority.

But, right now, I had another priority, so I moved closer to my daughter, and, for the third time tonight, our lips met as we embraced each other.

I began to wonder if Time to Play Chani was less inhibited than Time to Work Chani. Because, within moments of our tongues becoming entwined, Chani reached down and began to work my old t-shirt off up and off her body.

Even as her hips twisted and her shoulders shimmied, Chani never broke contact with me. Eventually, after an impressive display of circus grade contortionism, she pulled the shirt over her face and tossed it to the floor.

In what seemed like a repeat performance from the other night, my kisses began to roam her body. I focused my attention on her neck and breasts even as my hands roamed her hips and thighs. It was then that I noticed Chani wasn't wearing any panties.

Taking that as an invitation, I began to gently tease and caress her inner thighs. Her heavy breathing and soft cooing made it clear that she enjoyed the touch.

I wanted better access, though, so I sat partway up and gently rolled my daughter onto her back. Then I better positioned myself so my torso was hovering over hers, without putting my weight on her.

Our positioning sorted, I returned my attention to her body and expanded my repertoire of kisses by licking and sucking on her neck and nipples.

I did my best to read her arousal and tried to focus on one area until the sensations became just a little too much. I would then move to another one of her erogenous zones.

Meanwhile, my free hand (the other wrapping around her back and propping me up on that elbow) continued to work the area of her midsection.

I would alternate. One moment I was gently caressing her inner thigh, slowly working my way up until I could just feel her somewhat unkempt pubic hair brushing the backs of my fingers. The next moment I would grip her inner thigh firmly.

Then I would move my hand, picking it up and resting it on her stomach, gliding it lower and lower. When I could tell that I was just millimeters away from her slit, I would move it back up again and eventually return to teasing her thighs.

Every indication was that Chani was at peak arousal. Chani's breathing, the sounds she was making, the frantic insistence of her mouth on mine, and her scent, all were signs of her overwhelming desire. She was even rocking her hips in a vain attempt to get my teasing digits to touch her most intimate of areas.

Finally, I spoke again, whispering to her the way lovers do even when there is no one to overhear them. "Chani, I told you I had a special way to help you when you're feeling this way. Remember?"

"Yes, Daddy. Please, please show me!"

"I want to, it will feel so good when I do show you, but there's a problem."

"Huh? What, what problem?"

"Well, the thing I want to show you, the thing that's going to make you feel so much better, it can only be done between husbands and wives or boyfriends and girlfriends."

"Oh...," she sounded utterly dejected.

"But, there is a way. It's up to you, though. You have to make the choice."

"What choice?"

"Well, remember when you used to say you would marry me when you grew up?"

"Umm...yeah...," she replied, her tone full of uncertainty.

"Well, it's kinda like that. You're not old enough to be my second wife, but you could be my secret girlfriend."

"Your secret girlfriend?"

"That's right. It means we get to go on dates and do fun stuff together."

"What about Mommy?"

"What about her? When you're my secret girlfriend, it doesn't mean I love her any less. In fact, it means I get to love you both more. Did you know that Mommy was

her

daddy's secret girlfriend?"

"Really?"

"Yep. It was a very special, very beautiful relationship. I would like to have that type of relationship with you. But it's your choice."

As I finished that sentence, I leaned in and took Chani's right nipple in my mouth and began to tongue and suck it. At the same time, I slid my hand all the way up her thigh. My index finger was resting against the outside of her sex, and I could feel her wetness.

"W...What do I do? How do I choose?"

I released her nipple and spoke, even as I began to move my hand, ever so slightly rubbing her pussy lips, "All you have to do is tell me that you want to be my girlfriend. That and promise not to speak about it outside this house. That's it."

"O...O...Okay," she stammered as I redirected my focus to her left nipple. "I want to be your girlfriend."

At that, I stopped, sat up a little more, and looked her right in the eye. "Chani, I love you so much, and there is nothing I want more than for you to be my girlfriend. I was kinda mean by touching you while you answered. So I'm gonna ask you again, and I want to make sure this is really what you want."

She paused for a moment, steadied her breathing, and met my gaze, "Daddy, Dad, I love you more than I could ever express."

Her voice, her words, this wasn't Time to Play Chani anymore, this was just Chani, just her regular self, and she wasn't in hypnosis. She was fully awake.

I stared in complete shock as she continued, "You have always been there for me, supporting me, encouraging me, comforting me. You're an amazing man. And look, I'm not blind. I know that our relationship has always been a little more... intimate than any of my friends have with their fathers.