It's not a Secret Subject, I do the hypnosis

I have been slowly working on archiving my work and it's time to announce the Secret Subject super big hypnosis (and asmr) audio spreadsheet. Every piece of content I have ever done in one place so you can find it all. Eventually everything I have made since 2017 will be added!

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/19DStZiSq2NzpQgaOHYnRna5iXI6SWENGW_PoKrd39uE/edit?usp=sharing

New audios will be added until it is up to date, right now we have everything from 2017-mid 2020. I hope people find it useful as there is a LOT of audios I forgot I made and I'm sure someone will find something they like. Also a lot of the older work is now free because it's important to me to have a lot of content people can access.

How to avoid falling into my hypnosis cult that absolutely isn't real and is totally a joke.

Don't walk late at night in the forests on the outskirts of town. That's where people like me might come out of the shadows with an adorable smile that makes you feel at ease, only to lure you back to the farm house where I keep my masses of thralls.

Don't respond to any fliers with giant spirals on them that say "Need to change your life? Are you feeling very tired of all the chaos in your head?" Typical cult calling card is a very obvious spiral.

Whatever you do, do NOT check up on your friend who went missing two weeks ago after a farm based wellness retreat that they heard about on social media. You know, especially one's run by really cute girls with spiral eyes that flash on the screen. I hear those eyes are contagious if you look deeply for long enough and your friend is just fine. I mean look how happy they are with their own spiral eyes and a vacant expression. The drool says they are living their best life.

I think it's wonderful that you're so willing to collect other little thralls together for me. Luring them in one by one, enthralling their minds into slavish devotion to their One True Calling. Smiling at the thrill of holding such power of so many eager, pliable minds.

And yet, behind your eyes, you see the amorphous shape of your True God. The entity sliding its tendrils into your mind, filling you with power and subservience alike. None of your little playthings seeing the vapid, giggly expression spreading across your face. They're too far gone to notice, and you're too far gone to stop it.

- T

Well, well, well what a lot to think about. Firstly, god play is a little far for me, the worship thing isn't my jam and it gets into levels of servitude that goes a little above my usual ideal "slave-ish" behaviour I get into besides, I'd rather my conditions of control come from someone I can see and from a person pulling my strings like their little pliable puppet. However tendrils in the mind? Damn hot. Being vapid and giggly in secret where no one else knows what deviously hot things happen in my head? Hot. Having all the control and none of it at the same time? Goals.

After all, aren't I just made to be the perfect trap for people's minds? My eyes are just so invitingly captivating to some but also pools of endless nothingness for the right person or people. My voice is so controllingly calm and yet so full of joyful babbling bliss.

But when you finish taking minds over and over, and you can feel your tiredness starting to creep into your mind, the constant tug of that leash in your mind will pull you right back to that room.

Everyone else sees someone so in control. And you are. So many minds bend to your will. But yours is equally pliable, to someone who knows you. To someone who knows the buttons to push.

You will tower over the kneeling and you will prostrate yourself, if not in equal measure, then certainly in equal enjoyment. The contrast is quite hot and fun, for me.

I remember the day I first entered the room. The one that stole my mind. It was a day like any other, I was minding my business, tending to the minds of my masses of adoring followers. Afterall to them I am so many things, but mostly I am a voice in their heads. A whisper echoing to their mind. I know that role so well. But secretly I am a curious sort, which lead me to my fate.

The door was locked when we first bought this place, we didn't have a key so for years it remained a mystery. Every so often I would check it just in case until that fateful day. It opened.

Down a long spiraling staircase into the basement I found myself walking into a trap. At the time I thought, what's the harm in looking but now I know better because at the bottom of the stairs was you. The one with the eyes that looked into my very soul. You with the voice soft and seductive that spoke to me in a tone only I can truly hear when I give my control to you. You placed the key to the locked door around my neck, like a collar only we know about. You told me about my role, my place, my actual nature. The one deep inside I hide from the others. The one only we keep like a secret locked behind the door.

I fall to my knees at the revelation of all you tell me is the truth. My eyes flutter wildly as my mind succumbs to the power of your control. And as I look up at you it's so hard not to let my eyes roll back into my head, because I so desperately need to see the way you taunt me with your smirk. You tell me this is the secret we keep and no one has to know that you tell me what to say. You tell me who I am. You really run this place from the basement in a locked door.

Each night I return to my place here. Sometimes walking, sometimes crawling, sometimes dragged pleading for my minds release. But each time the same. I close my eyes and sink in the depths of your words. I can't help it. This is what I am. Controlled and controlling. I couldn't have it any other way.

Everyone in the cult worships the ground you walk on, kisses your feet in adoration. You are confident, controlling, cruel when you wish to be. But the moment you walk into a specific person’s room, all that melts away to reveal how weak you are.

To others, you are the bastion of authority, always smooth and in control. For them, you are a mindless toy, eager to please. Honestly not that far from what you are now.

Ummm. Wow. Way to read me to filth! I mean, I am very totally always in control of myself and my mind. I am so like powerful and absolutely can and will break the brains of the masses... I can't help it that I have a slight weakness of a pretty voice and a good pair of eyes can absolutely ruin me very quickly.

I was wondering, in short, what you do while listening to a file? Do you put them on and then do housework? How does that work when there are sleep and drop triggers?

Do I need to be sitting/laying in one spot for the duration of the file? It seems so simple on the surface, but feels complicated.

Now, this depends on the file. We actually have a comfy chair with an ottoman I like to listen to files in, or in bed at night to help me sleep (although not always a lot of sleeping gets done... more like training hours.) I do have a couple of "background brainwashing" or "waking trance files" which are made to be done while doing a task. My personal fave is laundry because I hate it and by the end I am a totally mess, collapsed into the carpet in the wardrobe. It's all around a good time. Fractionation which is my fave type of file, I will do seated or lying down for the best experience making sure my neck is comfy. Comfort is important especially with longer file sessions like I tend to do.

All day he'd been asking me to write words for him on my body and all day directing certain letters to be in the 'special glowy pen'. I of course couldn't tell you which was which, that wasn't important. Afterall, I just do what I'm told and thinking about that wasn't part of today's to do list. Reading the words back, I try and find the ones I'm looking for. 'Enthralled', I sigh, 'brainless', 'mindless', the more I read the more each word takes a hold of my mind. Making me feel each and every syllables power over me. 'Powerless', a wave of submission trickles down my spine, 'more' sitting just above 'dumb', 'Yes Sir'. I can't help smile at that. I do love saying yes. All in cute handwriting and with each 'i' dotted with a tiny heart. Maybe I am a bimbo afterall. All these other words and yet, no empty and no bimbo. Weird. "I um, don't see them?" I say shyly. Giggling to myself and twirling my hair. I can't help it. "Have you tried looking with your special flashlight?" He asks with a smug grin. He's playing a trick on me, I know it.

I pick up the flashlight on the table. It's uv reactive and makes things glow. Special uv things. Shining it over the words across both of my thighs the trick comes clear. Shining clear as day in pretty glowy pen are the words 'empty' and 'bimbo'. I giggle. He knows. I've found the trap he laid out for me and walked right into it again, as I do everytime. This wasn't the first time seeing it, hardly would be the last, but the more I focus on those two little, pretty words I get lost in their pull on my mind. It gets 'empty' and I become more of a dumb, helpless, giggling 'bimbo' because its written on me.

It must be the truth.

I actually don't mind, but I'm clearing out my friends list rn and only keeping people I actually know irl, have met at cons or know online and like have spoken to properly.