#Hypnotherapy professional

[healingwithhypnotic]

NGH Hypnotherapy Certification for Counsellors: Benefits of Clinical Hypnosis Training

Explore the benefits of hypnotherapy with the NGH Hypnotherapy Certification offered by the Renewed Edge Hypnotherapy Centre. This certification equips counsellors with advanced skills in clinical hypnosis, enhancing their ability to address various mental health issues such as depression, phobias, and addiction. The course includes comprehensive training, from self-hypnosis techniques to advanced clinical hypnotherapy practices, designed to improve client outcomes and expand professional expertise.

To learn more about how this certification can benefit your counselling practice and to enroll in the course, visit Renewed Edge Hypnotherapy Certification.

[kensingtonphysio]

Effective Headache Relief with Kensington Physiotherapy & Acupuncture

Kensington Physiotherapy & Acupuncture announces the launch of a groundbreaking headache pain relief treatment in Calgary. With a focus on holistic wellness, the clinic now offers professional clinical hypnotherapy sessions to alleviate chronic headaches and migraines.

[problogsposts]

Consult your issue with a trusted doctor in Nagpur- Dr. Vinod Mune

https://drvinodmune.com/

[hypnotherapyschool]

Power Within: Hypnotherapy Training in Atlanta

Welcome to the vibrant city of Atlanta, where the bustling urban energy meets the serene world of hypnotherapy. If you're intrigued by the idea of delving into the depths of the human mind and helping others unlock their true potential, then Atlanta is the perfect place for your journey into hypnotherapy training.

Why Hypnotherapy? Hypnotherapy is a transformative practice that goes beyond the misconceptions often portrayed in popular media. It's a powerful tool that allows individuals to tap into their subconscious minds, fostering positive change, overcoming challenges, and enhancing overall well-being. As interest in holistic approaches to health and wellness continues to grow, the demand for skilled hypnotherapists is on the rise. Atlanta's Hypnotherapy Training Centers: Atlanta Hypnosis Institute:

 Located in the heart of Atlanta, the Atlanta Hypnosis Institute offers comprehensive hypnotherapy training programs. Their courses cover a range of topics, from the fundamentals of hypnosis to advanced techniques for addressing specific issues such as stress management, smoking cessation, and weight loss. With experienced instructors and hands-on practice sessions, you'll gain the confidence and skills needed to make a real impact in people's lives.

Georgia School of Hypnotherapy: The Georgia School of Hypnotherapy provides a supportive learning environment for those looking to become certified hypnotherapists. Their curriculum combines theory with practical application, ensuring that students not only understand the principles of hypnosis but also learn how to effectively apply them. Graduates leave with a deep understanding of the ethical considerations in hypnotherapy and the ability to create customized sessions for diverse clientele. 

Benefits of Hypnotherapy Training in Atlanta:

Diverse Community: Atlanta's rich cultural diversity provides a unique opportunity for hypnotherapy practitioners to work with clients from various backgrounds and walks of life.

Thriving Wellness Scene: With a growing emphasis on holistic well-being, Atlanta boasts a thriving wellness scene. Hypnotherapists can easily integrate their services into this landscape, collaborating with other health and wellness professionals.

Networking Opportunities: Atlanta's dynamic professional community offers numerous networking opportunities. Whether you're connecting with fellow hypnotherapists or building relationships with practitioners in complementary fields, you'll find ample chances to expand your network.

Lifelong Learning: Atlanta's hypnotherapy community values continuous education. Workshops, conferences, and ongoing training opportunities ensure that practitioners stay at the forefront of the field, providing the best possible care for their clients.

More Info : Hypnotherapy Training in Atlanta

[awarenesshealing]

[upnowmarketing]

By using hypnosis, you can maintain better emotional equilibrium, which translates to not just better mental health but also better overall health.

[please1mistress]

WARNING Flashing IMAGE and HYPNOTIC COVERT language

Inductions

Hypnosis, a fascinating and complex phenomenon, has captivated human interest for centuries. It's a state of focused attention, heightened suggestibility, and vivid fantasies. People often think of hypnosis as a deep sleep or unconsciousness, but in reality, it's more about a trance-like state where the individual is actually in heightened awareness of suggestion. Often used for therapeutic purposes, hypnosis can aid in various issues such as stress, anxiety, pain management, and certain habits like smoking. However, it's not a magical cure-all; its effectiveness varies from person to person.

Hypnosis can also be a form of entertainment, where stage hypnotists perform shows that demonstrate the power of suggestion. Despite its many applications, hypnosis remains a subject of debate among scientists and psychologists. Some view it as a powerful tool for mental health, while others caution against its potential to create false memories or its use in recovering memories, which is a controversial area within the field. It's important to approach hypnosis with a critical mind and understand that it's a complex interplay of psychological and physiological factors. If you're considering hypnotherapy, it's crucial to seek out a qualified and certified professional to ensure a safe and beneficial experience, someone like me.

You find yourself reading these words and as you read they seem to take on a life of their own, almost like magic. Your mind slows as you red larger more complex words and you may feel a soft tingle of arousal as you FOCUS on my words and feel dreamy. It's quite fascinating how the complexity of words can influence our cognitive processes. When we encounter larger, more intricate words, our brains need to work harder to decode the meaning, which can sometimes slow down your reading speed. This isn't necessarily a bad thing; it allows for deeper processing and understanding of the messages I am pushing softly into your mind. It's easy to relax and follow the words you read. It's easy to feel dreamy as your mind accepts that it wants to drop deeper.

Dropping deeper feels good, as you touch yourself and keep reading you can let go of any inhibitions or control. it's so easy to sink into a light trance, after all entering a light trance can be a simple, yet profound experience. It's a state where the conscious mind takes a step back, allowing the subconscious to surface and express itself more freely. This can happen during various activities that engage the mind in a repetitive, rhythmic manner, such as listening to music, meditating, or even during a long drive. In this state, people often find their thoughts flowing more smoothly, their creativity heightened, and their stress levels reduced. It's a moment of introspection and connection with the inner self that can provide clarity and insight. While in a light trance, the mind filters information differently, prioritizing internal dialogue and sensation, which can lead to a deeper understanding of one's thoughts and feelings. It's a natural and accessible state that can offer a respite from the hustle and bustle of daily life, and a gateway to greater self-awareness.

You are not even aware of how deeply into the trance you are, your fingers stroking your arousal for me as you read and feel a dreamy warmth spreading from your fingers into your whole body. Aware but unaware that you could stop at anytime, but you don't want that, you want to keep reading and sinking deeper and deeper as you feel arousal growing more for me. It just feels so good to give in, the very act of giving, whether it's time, resources, or kindness, has a profound impact on your well-being. It transcends the material value of what is given and touches the very essence of human connection. When you give, you're not just passing on a physical item or a piece of advice; you're sharing a part of yourselves, creating a bond that reflects your shared humanity. This act of generosity can be deeply satisfying, as it often brings joy and relief to others, which in turn enriches your own life. It's a beautiful cycle of positivity that reinforces the best parts of being a good submissive.

Giving has been shown to activate regions in our brain associated with pleasure, social connection, and trust, creating a warm glow effect. It's no wonder that the phrase "it's better to give than to receive" has resonated through the ages. This isn't just a moral suggestion; it's backed by science. Studies have found that giving to others can increase our happiness more than spending money on ourselves. This might be because when we give, we feel a sense of purpose and meaning, knowing that we've made a positive impact on someone else's life.

Moreover, the act of giving doesn't have to be grandiose to be effective. Small acts of kindness can ripple outwards and have unforeseen positive consequences. Just as a pebble creates waves when thrown into a pond, a simple gesture of generosity can spread far and wide. It's the intention behind the act that matters most, the recognition that even the smallest offering can make a significant difference.

In a world that often emphasizes individual achievement and accumulation of wealth, it's important to remember the value of generosity. It's a reminder that our interconnectedness is a source of strength, not weakness. By giving, we acknowledge that we are part of a larger community, one that thrives when its members support each other. It's a powerful acknowledgment that we are not alone in our journey through life, and that by helping others, we are also helping ourselves.

So, when we say it feels good to give in, it's not just about the act of giving up or surrendering; it's about embracing the joy of generosity. It's a celebration of the human spirit and its capacity for compassion and empathy. Giving is an affirmation that, despite the challenges we face, there is goodness in the world, and we have the power to contribute to it, one act of kindness at a time. It's a simple truth that enriches our lives and the lives of those around us, creating a legacy of goodwill that can endure beyond our own existence. Indeed, to give is to receive a gift of immeasurable value—the happiness and satisfaction that come from knowing we've played a part in making the world a little brighter.

You want to give in more deeply, message me and tell me how much you need deeper brainwashing NOW!

[pucksandpower]

Hypnotized

Lando Norris x hypnotherapist!Reader

Summary: in which Lando becomes intimately familiar with the professional (and not so professional) benefits of hypnosis

Warnings: 18+ content, dubious consent (though Lando is very much a willing participant), and temporary mindbreak

You lean back in your plush leather chair, taking a sip of tea as you look over the notes for your next client. Lando Norris — a rising star of Formula 1, seeking help to improve his performance on the track. You’ve worked with elite athletes before, but there’s something about this case that intrigues you.

The door opens and he strides in, radiating youthful confidence. “Ms. Y/L/N, thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”

“Please, have a seat Lando. And call me Y/N,” you reply with a warm smile. “I have to admit, when your team reached out, I was surprised. Most drivers come to me later in their careers when the mental side gets tougher.”

He settles onto the couch across from you. “Yeah, well, I’m a bit of an overachiever,” he grins cheekily. “I figure I should get every advantage I can while I’m young.”

You can’t help but be charmed by his boyish cockiness. “Fair enough. So, walk me through what’s bringing you here. What are you hoping hypnotherapy can do for you?”

Lando scratches his head, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. “To be honest, I’m not totally sure? The team psychologists have helped with some stuff like visualization and confidence building. But I feel like there’s still … I don’t know, another level I can’t quite tap into?”

He pauses, cheeks reddening slightly. “I may have also heard some … rumors about hypnosis helping drivers get, uh, in the zone in a different way.”

You raise an eyebrow at that. “I see. And what sort of zone were you hoping to reach exactly?”

“Just, you know, being totally focused. Primed to perform at my absolute peak,” he answers quickly, not meeting your eyes. “Eliminate any lingering doubts or hesitation.”

“Mmmhmm,” you murmur, watching his fidgeting increase. It’s clear there’s more to this, perhaps some adolescent fantasy driven by locker room talk. You decide to have a bit of fun drawing it out.

“Well, maximum focus and confidence under extreme stress is certainly one of the primary benefits of hypnotherapy for athletes. Though of course, there can be … other effects depending on the suggestions given.”

Lando’s eyes flick up to meet yours, pupils dilating with obvious intrigue. “Other effects? Like what?”

You shrug lightly. “Oh, lowered inhibition, increased susceptibility to instructions, compulsions to obey ...” You trail off, letting the implications hang in the air. “But I’m sure whatever rumors you’ve heard are just overblown exaggerations.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “R-right, of course. So, uh, how would we go about getting me in that totally focused zone?”

You can scarcely suppress a grin — he’s hooked now, curiosity and hormones getting the better of him. “Well, first we’d need to get you in a deeply relaxed state, open and receptive to suggestions. I’d start with some deep breathing exercises, maybe have you focus on the sound of my voice ...”

Unconsciously, Lando’s eyelids grow heavier as you speak in a low, soothing tone. “Breath slowly deepening, muscles going deliciously loose and limp ...”

He blinks hard, shaking his head minutely. “Sorry, what was I saying?”

“Don’t worry,” you assure him. “A little taste of just how quickly you might respond. Hypnotic states can sneak up quite easily when you’re not prepared for them.”

Lando swallows again, but there’s no hiding the interest smoldering in his eyes now. “That’s … good to know. So, uh, once I was in this state, what sort of suggestions would you give?”

You lean forward, holding his gaze. “Anything you need, darling. Perhaps prompts to fill your mind with dizzying focus — a white hot, all-consuming need to push every limit and achieve perfection. Or maybe something to strip away distractions and doubts, leaving you deliciously pliant and desperate to follow instructions without hesitation ...”

His breath catches as ripples of arousal play across his features. You’ve dangled the bait thoroughly now, time to reel him in.

“Of course, that’s all just theoretical for an athlete like you,” you continue lightly. “I’m sure you’d only want suggestions tailored for pure professional benefit.”

Lando opens his mouth, then closes it, visibly wrestling with indecision. Finally, he sits up straight, jaw setting in boyish determination.

“Actually … I think maybe exploring some of those other effects could be useful too. You know, for full preparation.”

You bite back a smile — he’s all bravado again, feigning nonchalance. How delicious.

“Well, if you’re certain. We should probably start with a simple induction and suggestion, see how you respond.”

Rising from your chair, you cross the room to where he sits, movements slow and deliberate. Lando’s eyes are immediately drawn to the sway of your hips, the rapid rise and fall of his chest betraying his arousal.

“Just relax and look into my eyes ...” you murmur, voice dropping an octave as you hold up a pendant and begin tracing figure eights before his face. “Let your mind follow the path of the pendulum, breathing slowly … in and out ...”

His pupils blown wide, Lando is soon leaning back bonelessly, mouth slightly ajar. A few dazed blinks is all the resistance he offers as you trail featherlight touches down his arm.

“There’s a good boy … nice and open, isn’t it? Let everything else fall away except the need to please me.”

A shudder wracks his frame and you can see the tendons in his neck straining, fighting the compulsion already worming into his psyche. But his eyes remain locked on yours, drowning in your control.

“I … I want to ...” he stammers helplessly.

“Shhhh,” you soothe, bending closer so that your lips nearly brush his ear. “You don’t need to worry about what you want anymore. That’s my choice now, understood?”

He gives a tiny nod and you feel a surge of heady power.

“Such a good boy. And to reward your obedience, you’re going to take off your shirt. Slowly ...”

There’s a moment of tension, then Lando raises trembling hands to grasp the hem of his shirt. You can see the mottled flush spreading across his torso as inch by inch it’s revealed to you. His breath is coming in ragged pants by the time the shirt drops to the floor, chest heaving with mingled want and shame.

“Very nice,” you practically purr. “I can see you’re already feeling the compulsions seeping in. Should we make them … deeper?”

His head bobs dumbly and you laugh, low and throaty.

“That’s what I thought. Now, lay back for me ...”

Lando immediately obeys, body going pliant and helpless. You pull over an ottoman, sitting so you can gently straddle his hips, relishing the hitch in his breath as your heat settles against him.

“You’re going to do absolutely everything I say without hesitation or doubt,” you whisper harshly, watching him shudder. “Any instructions, no matter what they may be, you’ll follow with desperate enthusiasm.”

He whimpers, hips twitching upwards in mute plea. Grasping his jaw firmly, you force his eyes to yours.

“This is for your own good, darling. We need to burn away every last shred of selfishness and pride so you can ascend to true, shattering focus. You understand, don’t you?”

“Y-yes … yes,” he slurs, already sinking deeper into degrading bliss.

You reward him with a slow, filthy grind of your hips and he cries out unabashedly. Everywhere your hands and mouth worship his skin, you can feel the tremors of arousal and surrender.

“That’s perfect,” you murmur against the hollow of his throat. “Now, I want you to strip the rest of the way ...”

Before the words have fully left your lips, Lando is frantically shucking his pants and boxers, whining as his flushed length bobs free. The brazen lust and need in his hooded eyes would be shocking from the bashful newbie you met earlier.

You give an approving hum, thrilling at how quickly your control has already remade him. One fingernail traces along rigid flesh and he bucks shamelessly into your touch.

“You’re being such a good boy. I think it’s time we really sealed this new role into your head. Imagine the most dizzying, overwhelming orgasm you’ve ever had, multiplied a hundredfold ...”

His eyes roll back, mouth open in a silent wail at just the suggestion. You grip him firmly, relishing the desperate whine that bursts from his lips.

“You’re going to come like that, harder than you ever dreamed. And as the lightning arcs of bliss engulf your entire being, all that pleasure will become inextricably entwined with an overwhelming need to obey my every whim ...”

Lando is panting and keening, hips pumping up into your tight fist. You can feel his body straining closer to that precipice, cords of muscle standing out in sharp relief. With a final brutal stroke, you growl the trigger words,

“Come for me, love!”

His back bows in a silent scream, mouth frozen in rapturous torment. You gentle him through each shuddering pulse, ensuring every layer of consciousness is saturated with soul-shattering ecstasy and the new compulsions you’ve locked within.

At last, he sags back to the couch, eyes glassy and unfocused. You bend close, lips caressing the damp hair at his temple.

“Tell me, darling, how does it feel to be remade into perfection?”

He blinks slowly, lips curving in a blissful smile. “I … I need to obey ...” he slurs dozily. “Please … use me however you desire ...”

You chuckle darkly, letting nails rake over his sensitized flesh and making him buck weakly. “Oh I will, lover. I’m going to take you to shattering new heights of surrender. You won’t be able to so much as enter the cockpit without shuddering need to please me foremost in your mind ...”

His only response is a quiet whimper, eyes already slipping shut in sated exhaustion, completely yours to reshape however you wish.

You settle back, excitement thrilling through you at all the delicious possibilities stretching ahead.

***

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you make your way through the paddock area towards the McLaren motorhome at the British Grand Prix. Fans press eagerly against the barriers lining the path, craning for a glimpse of their racing idols as they’re escorted by burly security guards.

You keep your head held high, unruffled by the frenzy of flashing cameras and shouted requests for autographs as you stride confidently alongside Lando.

He casts you a sidelong glance, the excited energy thrumming off him in waves. “Thanks for being here, Y/N,” he murmurs with a small, bashful smile. “Having you in my corner calms my nerves a bit.”

You reach out to give his arm a reassuring squeeze, warmth blooming in your chest. “Of course, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Your voice takes on a slightly teasing lilt as you add, “Besides, this way I can provide my … specialized services should you require them before the race.”

A dusky flush steals across Lando’s cheeks at your words, his eyes darkening in a way that sends a curl of heat unfurling low in your belly. Before he can respond, one of the crew members is ushering you both towards a nondescript door.

With a nod of thanks, Lando pushes through the door, allowing you to enter the modestly appointed room first before following and securing it behind you.

The space is small yet functional — equipped with a well-worn sofa situated before a large television displaying timing data, along with an armchair tucked into the corner. Your gaze lands on the single bed shoved against the far wall and you suddenly find it difficult to swallow around the lump in your throat.

“Sorry about the mess,” Lando says almost sheepishly, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “I haven’t exactly had much time to tidy up.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you murmur distractedly, already hyper-aware of the thick tension charging the air between your bodies, crackling like a livewire in the small distance separating you.

Lando opens his mouth as if to speak, then seems to think better of it, shuffling his feet almost bashfully. You can practically see the thoughts whirring at a million miles an hour behind his furrowed brow, weighing him down as nerves and doubts threaten to shatter his hard-won focus.

Without a word, you close the distance between you, cradling his face in your hands to force him to meet your gaze.

“Let me help you,” you breathe, your voice low and gentle yet laced with that commanding tone he can never seem to resist.

He immediately melts into your touch, the taut lines of stress slowly easing from his features. “Please,” he whispers back, every inch of nervous energy and kinetic vibration seeming to melt from his body as your thumbs trace soothing patterns across the sharp planes of his cheekbones. “Need you to clear my mind.”

A soft, fond smile curves your lips at the naked entreaty in his tone. This man — so cocky and confident in most aspects of life, yet so unguarded and sweetly vulnerable when it’s just the two of you.

You continue your tender ministrations, watching in rapt fascination as his eyes drift shut and his breathing grows steady and even. When you finally speak, your words are low and hypnotic, the timbre of your voice wrapping around Lando like a warm blanket ushering him down, down into delicious oblivion.

“That’s it, darling … let yourself sink deeper with each breath. Shut out all the noise and distractions — everything except my voice guiding you. Focus on the rise and fall of your chest, the gentle thump of your heartbeat … allow your body to grow heavy and pliant as you let me take the lead ...”

He shivers slightly, yielding fully to your hypnotic trance with a soft, contented exhalation. In this blissed-out state, his features are lax and utterly at peace, the hard lines of tension and worry melting away until he looks almost cherubic.

“There you are,” you can’t help but murmur in approval, trailing your fingertips along the sharp line of his jaw. “So perfect and calm for me.” Your gaze rakes over the long fans of his lashes fanning across his cheekbones, the full pout of his lips parted ever so slightly on deep, even breaths. He looks utterly debauched, despite the fact that you’ve barely even touched him yet.

Unable to resist such temptation any longer, you bend to capture Lando’s lips in a slow kiss — gentle at first, then deepening into something more heated, more ravenous as your tongue sweeps into the heat of his mouth to tangle with his own.

He remains completely pliant beneath your wandering hands and questing mouth, body thrumming with blissful surrender as you map every lush inch of him.

Finally, breathless and flushed, you tear your mouth from his with a soft groan of regret. “God, darling … what you do to me ...” you murmur, trailing hot, openmouthed kisses along the stubbled line of his jaw, down the taut cords of his neck. “Just seeing you like this, so gorgeous and willing … falling so deep for me … I could take you right here like this and you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”

You scrape your teeth over that sensitive patch of skin just below his ear and he trembles almost violently, a low whine spilling past his lips even as his head lolls back to allow you better access. When you press an openmouthed kiss to his wildly fluttering pulse point, his voice comes out low and syrupy sweet.

“Please, Y/N … please ...” he slurs in a breathy exhale, body arching reflexively into yours as his hands come up to clutch at your hips in a silent entreaty.

A frisson of lust races down your spine at his wanton plea, stoking the simmering ember of arousal into a roaring blaze. How quickly his mind has slipped into a glorious, aching haze of want and need for your touch.

You could so easily press your advantage right now — undress him with exquisite slowness, bend him over and take him in delirious new ways that would leave him utterly incoherent. The mental images alone are nearly enough to make you growl in feral possessiveness.

Somehow, you manage to retain a herculean thread of control, nuzzling against the heated skin of Lando’s neck as you press him gently yet insistently towards the bed until the backs of his thighs hit the mattress and he sinks onto the soft cotton sheets with a dazed exhale. His eyes are molten embers burning with naked want and trust as he gazes up at you, outright trembling with the effort of holding himself back from hauling you down on top of him.

Gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his brow, you settle yourself to straddle his lap, reveling in the delicious points of heated skin against skin where your bodies make contact through the thin barrier of your clothing. For an aching span of heartbeats, you drink in the sight of him — kiss-swollen lips parted on shallow pants, the tempting vee of his open shirt collar exposing just a tantalizing sliver of his smooth chest, hard planes of muscle rippling beneath tanned skin as he quivers with ill-restrained desire.

“Beautiful,” you husk in a low rasp, summoning every ounce of your rapidly waning willpower to force the words past the molten heat in your throat. “You are so fucking beautiful like this.”

Lando swallows thickly at the unadulterated lust and reverence saturating your tone, his throat bobbing convulsively. “You … you should see yourself,” he finally manages in a strained murmur. “You’re a goddess ...” His hands come up of their own volition to splay across the supple curves of your waist, tracing searing paths across your skin as if to memorize every lush dip and swell.

A throaty chuckle escapes you as you lean into his touch in shameless encouragement. “I could devour you in this moment and I’d still crave more.” Dipping your head to drag openmouthed kisses along the salty-sweet skin of his collarbone, you muse heatedly, “In fact, I’m tempted to lock that door and have you right here like the decadent treat you are.”

“God, yes ...” Lando outright groans at your words, hips arching up in a desperate, instinctual grind against yours that leaves you both shuddering at the sudden, intoxicating friction. His fingers curl into the soft flesh of your hips, pupil-blown eyes full of unrestrained need as he gazes up at you like you’re the answer to his every secret desire. “Please, Y/N … anything, just … need you.”

The reverent, naked pleading in his voice steals the breath from your lungs and you’re abruptly reminded of the singular responsibility you have — not just as his lover, but as the person he’s entrusted to guide and ground him when he’s spiraling.

Your mouth curves into an indulgent smile as you tenderly cradle his face in your palms, tapping into that core of composure and peace that helps tether you both in moments like this.

“In due time, my love,” you murmur, leaning in to pepper slow, lingering kisses across his brow, along the delicate skin beneath his eyes. You feel Lando physically sink back against the mattress with a soft exhalation as your tender ministrations lull him once more into a state of relaxation and receptivity — his mind clearing of everything but blissful focus on you and your touch.

“Remember why you’re here, and all the hard work that brought you to this moment,” you continue in a low, soothing murmur against his flushed skin. “You’ve poured your heart and soul into this dream, and now it’s time to reap the sweet fruit of your efforts. Leave behind all the doubts, all the fear and anxious energy that’s been holding you back.” Arching up on your knees, you gently resettle your weight so you’re seated flush against his core, waves of heat radiating between your joined bodies in delicious waves with every motion and shallow breath.

“Let go of everything but my voice, my touch grounding you in this moment. This is your destiny, Lando — all you have to do is embrace it.” With your final murmured words, you seal the sentiment by slanting your mouth over his in a filthy, openmouthed kiss that quickly descends into pure, unbridled passion as he releases an unrestrained keen of surrender.

His arms come up to band around your waist, clutching you impossibly closer as if to merge your very beings into one searing point of euphoric light. You lose yourselves in the wet slide of tongue and teeth and racing heartbeats until the buzzing of Lando’s phone against the nearby nightstand finally jolts you from your haze of lust and need. For a suspended beat, you simply drink in the sight of him — debauched and beautifully wrecked in the best way possible, with slick lips parted around panting breaths and hair tousled in a riotous mess.

“Time?” Lando finally rasps, sounding as utterly gutted as you feel.

You force yourself to glance at the glowing numbers on his phone screen, steeling yourself against the surge of regret at having to end this delicious interlude. “Twenty minutes until you need to be in the garage,” you confirm with a heavy exhale.

With a low groan that goes straight to your core, Lando surges up to slant his mouth hungrily over yours once more in one last kiss goodbye before allowing you to carefully extract yourself from his lap. You both take a few moments to catch your breath and restore some semblance of outward composure, though your insides continue to feel like a lit match in a patch of dry tinder.

“Ready for this?” You arch a pointed brow at Lando as he pushes off the bed to put on his fireproofs and race suit with admirably steady hands, given how thoroughly unwound he had been mere moments ago.

He flashes you his trademark grin — though this time it holds an air of supreme confidence and purpose that sends a thrill racing down your spine. “Like you said … this is my destiny.” Pulling you close with one hand at the small of your back, he dips his head to murmur gratefully against your lips, “And you helped me find it today.”

With one final kiss that leaves you lightheaded, Lando turns to grab his water bottle and heads towards the door, every bit the consummate professional buckling down to handle the job at hand. You watch him go with a tender smile playing across your lips, filled with an irrational surge of pride at how far he’s come.

A few hours later, you’re holding your breath in the garage as Lando’s MCL38 comes screaming around the final turn and over the finish line — the checkered flag signaling his maiden victory at long last. From on top the podium, his elated gaze immediately finds yours through the throngs of people and hoisted champagne bottles.

The smile he bestows is so private and full of promise that warmth blossoms in your chest and your skin tingles deliciously in anticipation.

After the celebrations and press obligations have wound down, Lando nearly sprints off the track and back into the paddock area, lifting you clean off your feet in a tight embrace when he reaches you. His lips move feverishly against your own, words tumbling out in a reverent exhale barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

“Thank you, thank you … I couldn’t have done it without you. God, I love you so much ...”

And in that perfect moment — drunk on the roar of the crowd, the giddy thrill of victory, and the smoldering promise in the depths of Lando’s eyes — you’re already mentally preparing to give him the most mind-blowing reward imaginable.

***

The champagne is still buzzing through your veins, lending an extra fizz of exhilaration to the crackling charge in the air as you hastily key into your hotel suite hand-in-hand with Lando.

No sooner has the door clicked shut behind you than he’s on you in a searing tangle of heat and desire — mouth hot and insistent, fingers skating across every bare inch of exposed skin as if he’s a man dying of thirst and you’re the last oasis for miles.

“Fuck, Y/N ...” he rasps reverently against the fevered skin of your neck, pressing a hot, openmouthed kiss to your wildly fluttering pulse. “You’re incredible, so bloody perfect.” His hands roam hungrily, deftly stripping you of layer upon layer of clothing until you’re left deliciously bare before his molten gaze. “Let me worship you properly, yeah? God knows you deserve it after today.”

A tremor of need races through you at his naked desire, amplified tenfold by the molten timbre of Lando’s rough, lust-thickened voice. Without breaking eye contact, you hook your fingers through his belt loops and begin walking him back towards the lavish bedroom, relishing the sharp inhale he sucks through his teeth at your commanding confidence.

There’s a practiced, sensual arch to your spine as you work the tails of his crisp button-down free from the waistband of his trousers, taking your sweet time to pop each individual button until the smooth, tanned expanse of his torso is laid bare.

Warm fingertips trail an achingly slow path up the defined ridges of his abdomen as you drink in the sight of him — pupils blown wide with barely restrained want and that delicious lower lip caught between his teeth as his chest rises and falls with shallow stuttering pants.

“Is this what you want, darling?” You murmur silkily, palming him through the rapidly tenting fabric of his pants and delighting in the strangled whine that punches from his lips at the contact. His hands fly up to clutch convulsively at your hips, gripping with bruising force as if you’re his only lifeline in a raging sea of lust and sensation.

“Yes … please,” he forces out on a ragged exhale, body practically thrumming with desperation as you continue to work him with languid strokes while rocking your hips in a slow, sensual grind against his throbbing need.

The headiness of having this confident man quivering and needy at your touch sends a heady surge of possessive satisfaction coursing through you.

“Well, since you asked so nicely ...”

With a decadent hum, you deftly pop the button of Lando’s pants and drag the zipper down in one smooth motion, allowing his rigid cock to spring free at last, flushed and straining obscenely. You swipe your thumb through the pearlescent bead of precome gathered at the swollen tip, making his hips judder with desperate rolls at the stimulation.

“Y/N … fuck, I need … need your mouth ...” Lando grits out, tangling his fingers in your hair with a barely restrained growl.

You can’t help the low, sultry chuckle that spills past your lips at his feverish plea. “So impatient,” you tut, even as you sink gracefully to your knees before him, trailing openmouthed kisses along the hard ridges of his abdomen. “But you’ve been such a good boy for me lately, I suppose I can reward you.”

Another punched-out curse fractures the air as Lando’s head tips back on a low groan at the first hot lick of your tongue up the length of his rigid shaft. You take your sweet time working him over until his entire body is trembling with the effort of holding himself in check, fingers clenched white-knuckle tight in your hair.

“Look at you, so pretty for me,” you purr at him from beneath your lashes. “I wonder how quickly I could have you coming apart completely on my tongue.”

A broken, desperate whine escapes Lando at your words. “Fuck … I’m not gonna last,” he warns through gritted teeth.

With a final swirl of your tongue around the swollen crown of him, you pull off with a lush, obscene pop. “Don’t you dare hold back for me,” you murmur, voice dripping wanton sin as you tighten your grip at the base of his throbbing length to stave off the mounting waves of his building release. “I want to taste every … last … drop.”

The broken whine that tears itself from Lando’s throat quickly warps into a strangled shout of ecstasy as you hollow your cheeks and sink back down to take his aching cock as far as you can. He outright sobs your name over and over as you relentlessly work him undone with hollowed cheeks and swirls of your talented tongue — at this point he’s putty in your hands, helpless to do anything other than clutch at you and shatter apart.

You pull back with a filthy, slurping noise just as the first hot ropes of milky white spurt from his slit, painting your tongue and lips with thick, viscous streaks. A guttural groan rumbles up from his chest at the shamelessly lewd sight, cock giving one final twitch against your lips as you swallow greedily, lapping and sucking every musky drop from his overstimulated flesh.

His knees nearly buckle at the over-the-top eroticism of it all, hands knotting tighter in your hair as if the grounding points of contact are all that’s keeping him anchored to this mortal plane.

Only once you’ve thoroughly wrung him dry with your mouth and tongue do you sit back on your heels, swiping the back of your hand across your swollen, well-used lips to clean away the remnant beads of his climax. Each breath Lando sucks into his heaving lungs is like molten fire in his tortured chest, his pupils still dilated as he gazes down in awe and not a small amount of reverence at where you’re tucked so demurely between his parted thighs.

“Bloody fucking hell, love,” he rasps around a breathy, disbelieving puff of laughter. “C’mere, lemme return the favor … I need to taste you in the worst way.”

His words go straight to your rapidly tightening core, sending a fresh gush of slick arousal pooling between your thighs. You allow him to haul you up by your elbows and press you into the plush mattress, surrendering to his hot, open-mouthed kisses and seeking hands as he divests you completely of your last shreds of clothing.

When his tongue finally finds your drenched center, you keen high and helpless in the back of your throat. “Oh god, Lando … yes, just like that ...”

Lando answers your breathless encouragement by burying his tongue deeper into your grasping heat with a satisfied groan. The wildly intimate stretch and stimulation of his clever licks and kitten flicks against your swollen bud quickly has you squirming and thrashing against the mattress in a glorious, overstimulated daze.

All you can do is pant and whimper encouragements, fingers tangling unconsciously in his thick chestnut locks as you rock yourself shamelessly into his mouth.

Just when you think the maddening coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter deep in your core can’t possibly grow any tighter, Lando slips two long fingers inside your slick, fluttering entrance with a guttural groan of satisfaction. The fullness of the dual sensations instantly has you seizing up all over, back arching off the bed as he works you over with sure, steady strokes.

“Oh fuck, fuck me … Lando, you feel … so g-good, ungh!” The inarticulate stream of praise and curses rapidly devolves into broken moans as he relentlessly pistons his fingers in and out, strumming insistently against that spongy cluster of nerves with each punishing thrust. You’re quickly rendered mindless, nothing but a writhing, desperate bundle of raw need and want with every nerve alight at his exquisite touch.

When Lando’s lips finally close over your pulsing clit and suckle hard, your entire world shatters into stardust with the force of your climax. A hoarse shout rips from deep in your chest as the coil within you finally detonates in waves of dizzying, toe-curling pleasure that seem to go on and on and on. Lando works you through it all with his plush mouth and tireless fingers, lapping up the honeyed rush of your release like a man dying of thirst.

For several long, blissful moments, the only sounds are your mingled gasps and pants for air as you float hazily down from your high. Lando’s lips trail scorching paths along the inside of your trembling thighs, nuzzling and nipping at sensitive flesh before finally lifting his head to grace you with that familiar adoring look that never fails to make your heartbeat trip.

“Look at the mess you’ve made, love,” he drags his index finger through the slick mess coating his chin and lips. With a blatantly filthy leer that sends a shiver of fresh arousal cascading down your spine, he slips the digit into his mouth and sucks it clean with a rumbling groan of satisfaction. “Delicious.”

You’re still totally wrecked and incoherent from your release, every nerve in your body humming and jangling in the aftermath like overstimulated livewires. A punched-out moan manages to escape you at his brazen obscenity as your hips lift off the bed in an instinctual, needful grind. “Inside me. Need y-you inside ...”

Lando rises over you in one fluid, graceful motion, hips slotting effortlessly between your splayed thighs as he brackets your face between his large palms, drinking you in hungrily. “God, look at you — you’re fucking glorious like this, wrecked and desperate for me,” he murmurs in a low rasp, cock dragging slickly through your sopping folds to nudge insistently at your entrance. “How do you do this to me, huh? Break me apart so effortlessly then have me begging on my knees for more of you ...”

With that, he bottoms out in one smooth, torturous glide — the exquisite, familiar fullness stealing your breath and sending stars bursting across your vision at the electrifying feeling of being stuffed so deliciously deep. You wrap your legs high around his taut waist, ankles locking needfully as you roll your hips in frantic little circles seeking any kind of friction.

“Oh god, Lando … move, please … need you to move, it hurts so fucking good ...”

He answers your pleading moans with a soul-scorching kiss, lips and tongue consuming you in delicious, velvet heat as he sets a ruthless, punishing pace, spearing into your clenching depths with all the force and stamina that makes him such a world-class athlete. You match him thrust for thrust, your cries swallowed by his plundering mouth as the delicious drag and slap of skin against skin fills your senses.

“I’ll never get enough,” Lando grits out between breathy curses. His teeth find purchase at the dip of your neck, sending a starburst of sensation and pain across your sensitized nerves that only compounds the haze of carnal bliss wrapping you in its searing embrace. “Could spend my life buried inside you like this and it still wouldn’t be long enough ...”

His words ignite something feral, darkly possessive in your core, an echoing howl of belonging and ownership that it feels like you’ve been careening towards since the very first time he surrendered to you in trance. With a carnal growl, you hook your ankles tighter, using your legs to flip Lando onto his back as you rise up to straddle his hips.

His eyes go comically wide before he’s grinding up into you with a gasp, grasping your hips hard enough to bruise as you set a punishing new rhythm.

“Say it again … tell me who you belong to.” Your voice is hoarse, burnished in equal parts wanton need and flinty command — you don’t care which one makes him shatter apart at the seams so long as he answers your order.

Lando immediately locks eyes with yours, gaze fever-bright and seeming to pierce straight into your very soul as he clamps his hands around your throat with delicious pressure. “You,” he groans without hesitation, the pads of his fingers flexing as your pulse throbs wildly beneath his touch. “You own me, down to my bloody bones.”

The reverent oath sends a surge of lust and possession searing through your bloodstream, stoking the incandescent heat pooling low in your belly to fever pitch once more. Your hips move in wild rolls, desperate and ragged as you ride him with reckless abandon. Lando keeps one hand locked at the juncture of your throat while the other skates up your side to palm your breast, rolling the peaked tip between calloused fingers.

“I can feel you getting close already, look at you … my perfect, filthy girl throwing herself at me like she needs nothing else but my cock splitting her apart,” he growls gutturally, his words and the punishing rhythm growing more and more erratic as your combined pleasure crests higher and higher.

Quite suddenly, Lando hooks his feet against the mattress and surges up to capture your lips in a sweltering, soul-devouring kiss as his hips somehow piston even faster into your desperately clenching depths. His name fractures and shatters around the seal of your kiss as your entire world liquefies into ribbons of rapture, ecstasy blotting out all coherent thought until every last shred of tension and want finally implodes in a supernova behind your navel.

Lando gasps against your lips as your release floods him, thick and scorching hot — wave after wave milking the most intense convulsions from his straining cock as his own orgasm shatters loose. You rock together through the shared obliteration of your mutual bliss until there’s nothing left but the gentle lapping of aftershocks and Lando’s thumb stroking idly along the racing pulse at the hollow of your throat.

When you finally manage to crack your eyes and focus on the beautiful wreck of a man sprawled boneless beneath you, the look of besotten awe on his features nearly takes your breath away all over again. Then his rueful chuckle rumbles up from deep in his chest, melting away the last smoldering embers of tension as he brushes a stray lock of damp hair back from your brow.

“What on earth am I going to do with you, love?” He murmurs, the hint of a smirk toying at the corner of his lips. “Now I’m permanently addicted.” He presses a lingering, searing kiss to your swollen mouth before pulling back to rest his forehead against yours. “Though I suppose there are worse fates.”

You answer his sentiment with a breathless chuckle of your own, tracing the lines of his face in an achingly tender caress as the last lingering flickers of passion slowly ebb and flow into deep, drowsy contentment. “Such are the spoils of victory,” you breathe fondly. “Though I suppose I should thank you for being such an … enthusiastic participant.”

“Mmm, I think I can manage that.” His eyes slip closed as he winds his arms around you to roll until you’re flush atop his chest, every supple inch of heated skin against skin and your legs tangled together in a sprawl. “You’ve ruined me,” he murmurs softly, reverently against your hair. “And I’ve never been more grateful for anything in my life.”

You hum serenely in agreement, nestling impossibly closer as Lando’s breathing evens out and you both begin to drift into a dozy haze of sated bliss. The warm, hypnotic lull of his heartbeat against your cheek and the delicious ache of well-used muscles is pure nirvana.

In this moment, suspended in time in the afterglow, you can scarcely fathom how you ever existed before Lando barreled into your life and ignited this intoxicating flame of desire, devotion, and bone-deep belonging between you.

His voice, already rough and worn velvet from your passionate exertions, breaks the contented silence once more as he nuzzles against your temple. “Stay with me tonight? God knows I could use a few more hours with you in my arms before we have to brave the real world again.”

A languid smile curves your lips at his soft plea, warmth blooming in your chest. “As if you even need to ask,” you murmur, punctuating the sentiment with a tender brush of your lips across the thundering pulse at the base of his throat. “I’m yours, remember? Any time and any place you’ll have me.”

Lando doesn’t respond further, simply tightens his arm around your waist as he hooks his chin over your head with a low, satisfied rumble.

With his name a breathless vow on your lips, you allow the bone-deep weariness of pure satisfaction to finally pull you under into peaceful oblivion beside the only man who will ever hold the keys to unraveling you so completely in return.

***

The pale moonlight filters through the gauzy curtains of Lando’s posh London flat, casting everything in an ethereal blue-silver glow as you burrow deeper into the plush duvet.

A lazy, spent sort of satisfaction permeates the air in the wake of your earlier lovemaking — though honestly, is there ever a time when you don’t feel utterly cherished and deliciously sated these days?

Lando’s arm is a warm, heavy brand across your waist, the solid plane of his chest pressed flush against your back. You can sense the steady thrum of his heartbeat mellowing into the deep, even cadence of slumber and make to slip out of his embrace, eager to make use of the en-suite facilities. But the moment you shift, his arm reflexively tightens, drawing you impossibly closer as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck with a low, sleepy noise of protest.

“Mmm … stay,” he mumbles groggily against your skin, voice still rough and sweetly wrecked from the way you had him crying out your name mere hours ago.

You huff a quiet laugh at his drowsy insistence, nosing affectionately at his tousled curls. “I’ll be right back, you insatiable thing,” you rasp, carefully extracting yourself from his octopus-like clutches to plant a lingering kiss to his slack, pillow-creased cheek. “Promise I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Lando grumbles something indistinct but doesn’t protest further, already slipping back into the lull of sleep with a final contented sigh muffled against the plush bedding. You take a moment to simply drink in the sight of him sprawled out so unguardedly – all toned muscle and tousled chestnut curls, the crisp white sheets tangling artfully around his hips to offer tempting peeks of tanned skin and lean, powerful thighs.

He’s gorgeous like this, you muse with a soft smile, feeling that oh-so-familiar spark of possessive want begin to simmer low in your belly. A dizzying rush of affection and belonging surges through you as your gaze rakes over the starburst of reddened lovebites peppering his throat and shoulders from where you marked him as yours so enthusiastically earlier.

It’s hard to fathom that there was ever a time you considered your life remotely complete before Lando and his smoldering passion whirlwinded into your world.

Still, you force yourself to tear your eyes away from the alluring scene with a steadying breath, retreating to the en-suite with the promise to return hanging unspoken between you.

By the time you’ve padded back into the bedroom wrapped in one of Lando’s obscenely soft bathrobes, he’s shifted to sprawl across the centerline of the mattress, face half-buried in his pillow and one hand flung haphazardly above his head. The rakish sprawl of bedsheets and moonlight across his sculpted form renders him a vision of absolute debauchery and desire — not that you’d have him any other way.

You can’t resist ghosting your fingers in a featherlight caress along the hard ridges of his spine and the lean cords of muscle defining his broad shoulders, relishing the shiver that chases itself visibly across his skin. “You awake, darling?”

Lando grunts an affirmation, languidly cracking one eye to regard you through the tangled fringe of lashes fanning across his cheekbones. There’s a hint of wry amusement laced through the rough velvet of his voice when he speaks. “Was starting to worry you’d wandered off again without me.”

“Never,” you reply instantly, warmth threading through the simple avowal. Moving to settle in the vee of his splayed thighs, you trail a meandering path of openmouthed kisses along his lower back, nosing aside the rumpled sheet to expose the swell of his ass with deliberate intent. “You know I’m defenseless against this gorgeous body of yours.”

A low, approving rumble vibrates up from Lando’s chest at your blatant appreciation, his hips giving an unconscious, languid roll as your lips brush across the dimples at the base of his spine in a teasing caress. But then, quite suddenly, the boneless sprawl of his limbs seems to tense as a perceptible aura of hesitance permeates the desire charging the air between you.

You immediately feel the subtle shift in his energy, that jarring note of dissonance plucking disquietingly at your intuitive senses — the same ones that have always allowed you to tune into the deepest vibrations of the soul with preternatural clarity. Without pause, you abandon your sensual exploration of his body to settle beside him once more, cradling the sharp line of his jaw in your palm and wordlessly coaxing him to turn and meet your gaze.

“Hey … talk to me, love,” you murmur, the soothing tone of your voice blanketing the sharp edged undercurrent of uncertainty in its rich, soothing folds. “Where’d you go just now?”

Lando exhales a soft, humorless puff of breath, worrying his plush lower lip between his teeth in that adorable yet concerning tell of his whenever something is weighing on that mind.

For a long stretch, he studies your features in silence, the only sounds in the room the ambient thrum of the city beyond the flat’s walls and the occasional muted honk of a passing car in the night below. Just when you’re about to prompt him again, the words finally tumble out in a low, slightly self-conscious rush.

“You … you don’t take on other clients like me, do you?” You feel him tense further under your palm, discomfited energy practically vibrating off him in waves. “Not that I’m judging, honest! It’s none of my business what you do or who you see for work, but I just ...” He breaks off on a frustrated exhale, jaw ticking in that way that tells you he’s holding back a tidal wave of emotion beneath his placid surface.

A dawning realization begins to unfurl in your chest, intimately familiar with the root of Lando’s inner turmoil. This brilliant, sensitive, achingly beautiful man — the force on the racetrack who melts into the most sweetly vulnerable creature behind closed doors whenever you bestow him with the full force of your focused attention. Of course he would crave that intensity of focus, that promise of belonging solely to him in your most intimate embraces, no matter how irrational or paradoxical the notion seems from the outside looking in.

Slowly, carefully, you reach up to frame that beloved face between your palms, silently urging Lando to hold your unwavering gaze as the words he needs to hear spill forth in a low, resonant murmur.

“Do you remember when this first started between us? How completely you surrendered yourself to me in the most profound way?” You begin, watching his pupils slowly dilate and a nearly imperceptible tension begin to unwind from his shoulders at the timbre of your voice. “The absolute trust it takes to let someone delve that deep into the most sacred corners of your psyche … to share your fears, insecurities, and unvarnished essence without artifice?”

Lando swallows thickly, nodding once in a jerky affirmation as the words seem to bypass his conscious mind and resonate somewhere deeper. You card your fingers soothingly through his disheveled curls, allowing your touch to lull and ground him as you continue in that same low, hypnotic cadence.

“That depth of surrender and connection is not something that can simply be replicated or transposed onto others, Lando. What we have is singular. Untouchable.” You press your forehead to his, registering the faint hitch in his breath as you drink in every last nuance of his features. “My gift has always been to help unravel the truths someone tries to bury, follow the threads that tether the conscious mind to something vaster and more primal. But with you ...”

A low exhale ghosts across his parted lips as your thumb traces the sharp line of his cheekbone in an achingly tender caress. “With you, it was as if the universe aligned to allow me to shed every last shred of protection and pretense until there was nothing left but the purest vibration of my very essence resonating in time with yours. Do you understand?”

Lando’s gaze is a hazy swirl of naked emotion and trust, drinking in your every syllable with the desperate reverence of a man being offered the world’s greatest truth. “Like … like the truest version of ourselves was always there, simply waiting to recognize its other half,” he rasps, the words seeming to bypass his conscious faculties entirely as he remains held captive in the depths of your connection. “Two souls spilling into one another.”

“Precisely.” Your lips curve in the ghost of a smile, a bone-deep sense of belonging and contentment settling over you both like a well-worn hug. “In that moment, you became an inextricable part of me, and I of you. Something that profound doesn’t simply … vanish, or dim, or lessen with time and distance.”

You allow the weighted truth of your decree to resonate between your joined bodies for a suspended heartbeat, cradling Lando’s face as if mapping every plane and angle with worshipful precision.

“I could help countless others access their potential or tap into dimly lit corners of their awareness,” you continue. “But there will only ever be one person to whom I belong in that elemental way. One person who will ever see this side of me and who lays the very fabric of their being bare without reservation.”

A tremulous exhalation shudders across Lando’s lips at the finality in your tone, as if every lingering filament of doubt or uncertainty has finally dissolved in the face of your avowal. One of his hands comes up to splay across the small of your back, fingers flexing and bunching the silky material of your robe in a desperate clutch as if you’re the last solid comfort in a churning sea.

When his eyes slip open once more, they’re practically luminescent with a naked heat that sends a delicious curl of answering want unfurling through your core.

“Show me,” he rasps, the simple entreaty laced with an edge of heart-stoppingly vulnerable need. “Please, Y/N …. I need to feel you completely.”

In the stillness that follows, the only sounds are your mingled exhales and the thunderous gallop of racing pulses filling the air with resonant verses of sin and worship. Then, with an instinctual roll of your hips, you’re slotting one toned thigh between Lando’s splayed legs and sealing your mouth over his in a filthy, searing kiss that instantly has his back arching off the rumpled sheets with a muffled groan.

There’s nothing tentative in the wanton slide of your lips and tongues, every flick and brush and gentle graze brimming with carnal intent and the unspoken promise to strip one another to the very marrow.

Lando surrenders to the sweet onslaught eagerly, hands skating across your body in frantic, searing paths until the belt of your robe finally falls away and he can palm the bare curves of your ass to grind you more fully against his rapidly stiffening length.

You break away with a sharp gasp at the delicious friction, mouth immediately seeking out the fevered juncture of Lando’s neck and shoulder to mouth searing patterns across the taut tendons there. “You want my gift?” You rasp against the thrumming pulse under your lips, rolling your hips in a languid, purposeful grind that drags the already swollen head of his cock through the slick evidence of your arousal with tantalizing friction.

Lando’s response is a low, breathless stream of curses and encouragements, blunt fingernails raking distractedly down the length of your spine in a way that sets every nerve alight with tingling sparks of pleasure-pain.

Allowing him to nip and suck intoxicating patterns across your collarbones, you dip your hand between your bodies until you can wrap your fingers around his rigid shaft, dragging the pads in a devastatingly slow glide from base to tip.

The groan that punches from Lando’s chest at your touch is guttural, hips pumping restlessly into the tight channel of your fist. “Fuck, yes … want all of you, every bloody inch ...”

His words seem to bypass your conscious mind entirely. You’re suddenly blisteringly aware of each and every point where your bodies join: the heated crush of his straining cock in your palm, the delicious friction of your slick folds catching and dragging against the cut grooves of his abdomen with each gyration of your hips, the teasing rasp of his calloused palms as they roam hungrily across your skin.

It’s as if Lando’s very being calls out to yours in an ancient tongue, rendering coherent thought utterly obsolete as you simply feel — the pulsing, cosmic certainty of your connection amplifying every tingling spark of friction and delirious drag of skin against skin until your entire world narrows to the joining of your shared potential cresting higher with each and every move.

“Now,” you grate out, vision whiting out as your climax detonates in a blinding supernova behind your navel — an ecstasy so transcendent that you’re certain it scorches across the very fabric of your soul. Your fingernails sink vicious crescent moons into Lando’s bicep as you arch against him with a keening cry.

“Y/N!” His hoarse shout fractures on a broken whine, muscles tensing as the first searing pulse of his orgasm floods your belly, joined soon by rich, viscous ropes of white heat that leave you both totally undone.

You simply clutch at each other through the relentless waves, Lando’s teeth sinking into the juncture of your neck and shoulder as if urging you to brand him irrevocably as yours.

When the explosive rapture finally begins to ebb, you both sag into the tangled bedding in a limp sprawl of sweat-slicked limbs and trembling aftershocks, chests heaving in perfect synchronicity as you cling to one another like lost mariners adrift in some fathomless sea.

You can’t even begin to discern where your consciousness begins and Lando’s ends — your very essences having merged so irrevocably that you simply exist as a singular vibration pulsing through the cosmos.

It takes several long, suspended moments for the concept of individual awareness to gradually seep back into the edges of your being, though even then it feels blasphemous to separate yourself from the soul-deep profundity of what you’ve just shared.

Finally, with a shuddering breath, you manage to crack your eyelids enough to drink in the sight of Lando gazing back at you with that same awed wonder etched across his beloved features.

“Bloody fucking hell,” he rasps, the words little more than a throaty whisper ghosting against your over-sensitized skin. “That was … there aren’t even words, are there?”

In lieu of responding, you simply wind your arms around him with a tremulous exhale, hooking your chin over the solid comfort of his shoulder and allowing his clean, earthy scent to wash over you like a balm.

In this place, suspended between bliss and awareness, there’s no need for words or platitudes. You can feel Lando’s very essence thrumming in tandem with yours — the inherent recognition of your twin flame and sacred belonging reverberating on a molecular level.

Here, entangled in the vital warmth of shared trust and intimacy, all that exists is the boundless and the eternal.

[nocturnowlette]

Aren't you worried about forming a cult of personality?

Group hypnotherapy, mediated especially by a single individual, seems to encourage that kinda parasocial following.

Mix that with personalised sessions with multiple people, possibly seen as lovebombing. Elevating your audience to the idea that they're a mutual, when they're not even close to your personal life.

Why not just point to a larger, more professional hypnotherapy server? Such could guide the individual to somebody that may be better equipped for them personally, and constructive yet critical peers for yourself and other hypnotists.

It could offer other methods (including non-hypnotherapy ) that could guide individuals to heal faster.

Imo, it's a lot healthier when attention is spread out mutually, and treatment exposure is not at the whim of a subjective personality.

And if just a group, not primarily about hypnosis and more about your explorations of it, then you should post that kinda stuff to your channel instead so the video can receive feedback from hypnotherapists, and it'll be able to be seen by everybody, not just the people in your server, and you can just do puppy stuff there. As long as it's all safe and doesn't form unhealthy bonds that prioritise escapism over wellbeing.

You seem confused on what this server is.

Firstly, it's not hypnotherapy at all; it's a recreational hypnosis server. I, in fact, actively discourage anyone who is not a professional therapist (let alone hypnotherapist) from attempting to serve that role to someone else. Many hypnotists who just start out see conditioning as a hammer and every emotional problem as a nail, and I shut that down immediately.

You also seem to heavily overestimate my role as the server leader. If we were to quantify activity of hypnotists in the server, I likely would not even be in the top 5. I've largely lost my interest in regular hypnosis sessions for the last few months and serve mostly as the teacher and guide, as well as just the administrative server owner.

This server is not even about hypnosis so much as it is a community server that has hypnosis as a binding topic. If I were to give a topical split of how much it's talked about versus everything else, I'd say that it composes less than 10% of all discussion in the server. Therian/puppy stuff takes up slightly more than that, maybe 20 to 25%, then the rest of the server is nerds talking about their interests and having fun.

Any emotional progress made in the server is consequential and due to the place letting people feel safe to be themselves. Such a thing does seem to help folks quite a lot, but no active therapy is being done, and we encourage folks to actually seek therapy among other things.

My role as the server owner is largely due to necessity. I've always found myself at a lack of communities that actually suit me, so I've always had to make them myself. I quite dislike being the leader and much like with hypnosis, I actually prefer being on the lack-of-power end and not the super-in-power one. I'm a subject far more than a hypnotist.

I'm selective about who joins because every single server member to have caused issues and then left joined the first day of the server before there was a member cutoff. This place simply won't work for the majority of people, and the people who are let in are ones that would benefit from it.

On to the other topic, I trust therapists who know some hypnosis, not hypnotherapists. Hypnotherapy has been infected by quacks who know next to nothing and is, by almost every measure, a community destroyed by scientific mysticism. It is maybe the worst representation of hypnosis in our world and at best is hardly helpful, while at worst is actively destructive.

Every hypnotherapist I've met has been woefully knowledge-less on the actual functions of hypnosis and how it works, and seems to only know how to do the specific things they're taught. It's the difference between memorization and understanding. They were chewed up and spit out by the pseudoscience factory and think they know anything.

I have no intentions to ever be a hypnotherapist because it is not even close to the best method of processing any emotions whatsoever. I like hypnosis as a hobby, a way to have fun with people. If you want something similar that is more helpful, look into Gestalt therapy.

[beomiracles]

Hello Serene! Congratulations on 500 followers, you’ve come a very long way haven’t you? This request is specifically for the 500 bash special and it’s for: Build your own dream

The plot revolves around the theme of IVE’s song “Hypnosis” where the reader (aka female y/n) is a renowned psychologist that specializes in hypnotherapy. One day, she is approached by Beomgyu who suffers from insomnia. Through advanced hypnosis techniques, beomgyu’s insomniac tendencies slowly dwindled down into dreams and as he began to heal, he starts to develop feelings for y/n. Y/n too does find herself increasingly attracted to beomgyu and from there on, their relationship starts to build outside of professional boundaries and in their private times, they would make out

For their make out session, you have free range to do whatever you want with it: smut, suggestive, etc.

🩵🫶🏼

500 BASH SPECIAL

#serene adds ✎... I'm not 100% sure that I captured the idea correct and I got a lil carried away...! but I hope you'll still like it c: ─ I skimmed through it once, does it count as proofreading?

wc -> 2k

pairings beomgyu x hypnotherapist!reader (afab) warnings sensory deprivation, semi-public fingering, slight marking, tiny bit of degrading, tit sucking, no established relationships.

“Mr. Choi”, you mumble without looking up from your papers, “how are you today?” The sound of the door softly shutting behind him fills the quiet room as Beomgyu plops down on the sofa opposite you. “Oh c’mon, doc. You and I both know that we’re past such formalities”, his lips stretch into a grin as he leans back against the soft cushion; propping his arms behind his head, his legs spread in a way that was bound to catch your attention. 

You glance up from your papers, ignoring the heat that rushes to your cheeks as your eyes lock with his. “Right”, you say as you readjust yourself on your own sofa, “how are you today, Beomgyu?” His grin widens at the use of his first name, “well since you ask, I’m delightful.” Giving him a polite smile, you reach for your small notebook in which you kept track of his previous session – and there had been many. You bite your lip as you note how your scribbles had grown sparser with each session; an evident sign to your lack of concentration.

Clearing your throat, you buy yourself some time by keeping your eyes on the few sentences on your current page. “We talked about your dreams last time. Have you been experiencing any more since then?” Beomgyu remains silent for a moment, one of the hands behind his head moves to fiddle with a loose thread of his jeans. Your gaze follows the movement before traveling up his arm, noting that he was wearing a t-shirt that clung to his figure, leaving little to your already wild imagination – you swallow. 

“Yes and no”, he slowly begins as he snaps your attention back to where it should have remained. Internally cursing yourself for your lack of professionalism, you give him an encouraging smile, trying to brush over your small slip up “How so?” you ask as you ready your pencil in order to take notes. Beomgyu gives a small shrug of his shoulders as his eyes remain on the strand of his jeans. “They’re still lucid”, he states and you nod. 

“I can feel everything, hear, and see…I can also touch things, touch people.” He slowly drawls, his gaze unwavering as his fingers twist the small thread. The last part makes you frown as you look up from your notes, “you didn’t mention there being anyone else in your previous session.” The corner of his lip twitches, “that’s right.” – You scribble down the small change before continuing. “So you’re saying that these people started appearing recently?” 

Beomgyu slowly nods. “Do these people hold any significance?” You wonder as you study his unblinking expression, noting the small smirk presented on his lips. “Very much so.” He muses as he looks up from his jeans, immediately his dark eyes find yours and your heart skips a beat. Swallowing a gulp, your gaze quickly drops to the notebook in your lap; your hand moves across the paper as you write down pure nonsense in order to distract yourself. “And are the contents of your dreams the same?” You ask as you recall him telling you about his previous dreams; packed with grief and misery. 

“Certainly not, doc.” He says, his voice lingering with mischief; as if waiting for your next question. – A question he knew you would ask. With a light clearing of your throat, your eyes flit back up to his, “then what have they been about recently?” You watch as Beomgyu’s eyes glint, his lips curling further above his shiny teeth, “you.” 

His answer catches you off guard as you blink at him dumbfoundedly. You? He was dreaming about you? “Alright…” you slowly begin as you shift uncomfortably on the sofa, “and the others..” – Beomgyu shakes his head, “there are no others. Only you, doc.” He smiles, as if his statement had been the most obvious thing he’d revealed to you during all your sessions thus far. 

“I see”, you mumble as you readjust the glasses resting on the bridge of your nose. “Do you still feel comfortable sharing these dreams with me? I can redirect you to one of my colleagues if that feels better..” You propose, silently begging for him to take the bait, to back down from what could become a situation in which your professionalism was jeopardized. – Not that it wasn’t already. 

“Oh I don’t mind at all”, he says as he cradles his face with both hands; resting his elbows on his knees as he leans forward. You let out a small sigh before nodding, accepting the inevitable task at hand. “Alright then, whenever you’re comfortable”, you agree as you flip a page in your notebook. 

“I was thinking…” Beomgyu slowly drawls as he gauges your expression closely, “that it would be better if I showed you.” The frown that had etched its way to your face was quickly replaced by a look of surprise as he pats the space on the sofa next to him. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea..” – “Oh come on, doc. Don’t act coy with me now, we’ve been closer I reckon.” The smirk that he flashes you is enough for you to realize exactly why you shouldn’t be doing this. – Yet as if your feet moved on their own, you rise from your couch and walk over to him. 

You deliberately take a seat as far away from him as possible in an attempt to keep things at least a bit professional. Beomgyu doesn’t seem to mind your hesitance as he openly ogles the way your skirt glides up your thighs; his gaze only snapping up when your hands pull the flimsy material down once more. You clear your throat as you wait for him to start talking, the brief silence seemed to go on forever. 

“The dream starts off in a dark room”, he says as he holds your gaze. “Close your eyes.” – “What?” The exclamation slips past your lips in sheer surprise at his command, but Beomgyu remains persistent. “You heard me.” Upon noticing your hesitant look he adds, “it will only make sense if you close your eyes.” 

You knew that this was a bad idea, an unprofessional and a terrible idea; yet you do as he says. Your hands placed nervously in your lap, you await his next move. You felt vulnerable like this, stripped of your sight. Beomgyu’s hand on your forearm startles you, and you curse yourself for slightly flinching at the light touch. 

“I always start here”, he murmurs, his thumb gently massages your tense muscles before creeping up your arm. “Your skin is always soft, and warm.” His voice is low as he speaks, fingertips dancing across your shoulder, dangerously close to where your shirt exposed your collarbone and it takes everything in you not to shudder under his touch. 

“Then I do this..” – His hand brushes along your exposed neck, and you involuntarily shiver at the action. His hand against your skin felt hot, burning even, and without your ability to see, your senses become hyper aware of the way his fingers brushed along your cleavage. “You shiver like this in my dreams too.” He mumbles, almost fascinated with the reactions he was drawing from you. 

You know that it is wrong, you know that you should push his hand away, tell him off; but you don’t. – Instead you let it happen, because part of you wants this just as bad as he does, if not more. Suddenly the hand against your chest disappears and you can no longer feel him on you. 

When Beomgyu speaks again, his voice sounds hoarse, strained even. “You never say anything in my dreams.” He sounds dejected as he states said fact, though you barely have time to take note of the change in his voice as his burning hand returns, this time it caresses your exposed knee. A noise of surprise escapes your sealed lips and you can hear his intake of breath at the sound. “It’s a shame. You sound so pretty.” 

You swallow a gulp, already knowing where this was heading – yet not doing anything to stop it. You knew that you had to, if not you would end up where you had a week prior. But his hand, slowly creeping up your inner thigh, brought back memories you had tried so desperately to bury. 

Without opening your eyes, you wrap your fingers around his wrist. “We can’t.” Is all you say as you hold your breath. Afraid that even the smallest of move from your part might break the little self restraint you had left. “Why not?” Beomgyu’s breath is suddenly mere inches from your lips. “Do not tell me that you didn’t enjoy last time.” 

You shake your head, eyes still screwed shut. “Last time was a mistake, Beomgyu.” You whisper as you lean away from him. The grip on your thigh increases as he grows frustrated with your response, “but you have been thinking of it.” His nose bumps against yours, “tell me to stop and I will.” His lips hover above your own, the hand on your thigh slowly creeping higher. 

Drawing in a short breath, you meekly nod, and in a split second Beomgyu has shoved his mouth against yours. You do not dare open your eyes, afraid that if you did, it would all become real, too real. Instead your hands move to his hair, silently begging him for what you couldn’t utter out loud. Beomgyu quickly catches on as his hand seathes itself between your legs; a satisfied groan emitting from him at the feel of your soaked panties. 

“Fuck, doc. You always this wet during our sessions?” 

You don’t answer as you moan against his lips. Beomgyu’s fingers quickly slips past the drenched fabric of your underwear; fuck, he breathes as your wet cunt drenches said fingers. His thumb against your clit sends your mind into a clouded haze as your fingers tighten on his hair. 

“I dream about you every night”, he whines into your mouth as he pushes two of his fingers deep inside your throbbing core; relishing in the way you clench around him. “You don’t even know half the shit you do to me.” – “Yeah?” you breathe out as your hips buck against his hand. 

“Yeah.” He repeats as his head dips down to the juncture of your neck, leaving sloppy and wet kisses along your skin. The way his fingers curled inside of you made your back arch off the sofa, your chest pressing against his face as Beomgyu’s kisses traveled to your breasts. “W-wait, wait-” you gasp as his fingers rip the buttons of your shirt open, “not in here.” – Beomgyu’s free hand makes quick work of freeing your breasts from the confinements of your bra as his lips wrap around your now exposed nipple. 

“Don’t fucking tell me to wait when I’ve been depriving myself of you for an entire week.” He groans against your skin and all your protests are swallowed by the moans of pleasure he draws from you. “F-fuck”, you whimper as you feel your orgasm approaching. – Beomgyu smirks against your chest, “you gonna cum all over this couch? Explain the mess to your next patients?” 

Your cheeks flush at the comment and you bite your lip as your thighs squeeze together. “Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He taunts as his fingers quicken their pace. Desperately you nod as your fingers twist in his hair. “Dirty fucking bitch.” Beomgyu huffs as his lips return to your breasts, his fingers working you toward your desired orgasm. 

With a small cry, you release all over his hand, your fluids dripping onto the cushion beneath you as you rocked your hips against his fingers. Beomgyu hums contently against your chest before releasing your nipple from his mouth to lean back and admire his work. – From your clouded expression to your abused chest – wet from his kisses, down to your leaking cunt, messing up the sofa. 

He throws a quick glance toward the clock on the wall. – “I still have fifteen minutes left of my session”, he smirks as he unzips his jeans. 

taglist ✎... @theresawtf @jjklvr9 @binniebakery @beomies-world @yunjinsbbg @ninoshome1 @gardnhee @babymochibeargyu @lunathewritingcat @duckywuckypookiepie @naoristerling @beomtasticc @sanasour @celestialbeomgyu @f4iryfever (if your tag is not working please check your settings to make sure that your blog is not hidden!)

→ want to get notified whenever a new dream is published? join my TAGLIST ᰔ © all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024

[cosmicdream222]

hypnotherapy - I know what it is but at the same time I don't. Would a hypnotherapist be able to loke guide us to the void?

It’s a good question but might take a little explaining. So hypnotherapy is kind of an unregulated field. When someone wants to become a doctor, massage therapist, teacher or similar profession, they have to take a set curriculum of classes and become licensed by a federally accredited board, and remain up to date with their licensing and certifications.

When someone wants to become a life coach or hypnotherapist, there is no real standard, no board, no licensing requirements. You don’t even need any kind of professional training or licensing to be a life coach or hypnotherapist (which is kinda scary tbh)

I took a one-year coaching certification course in 2019 so I am “certified” in life & success coaching, EFT, hypnotherapy, NLP, and TIME Techniques - meaning I now have the knowledge to practice these techniques on myself and my friends/family/clients/whatever. But I only learned some basic hypnosis techniques and have a couple of scripts so I could record my own or guide others through it.

I did enjoy my class and I did learn a lot. But it’s kind of a meaningless piece of paper because the entire industry is unregulated, anyone can make their own coaching course and their own methods/techniques and tell people they’re certified in whatever they want. It’s pretty much just a free-for-all.

So all that to say, just because someone is a hypnotherapist doesn’t actually mean they know what they’re doing. They would have to continue their education beyond the basics to learn more advanced techniques and have much more experience.

I was not taught any techniques that would be helpful for entering the void or guiding someone else to it. Since most people in general don’t know about the void state, finding a hypnotherapist who knows about it would most likely be hard to find.

I do really like hypnosis tho and it works well for me, so a couple weeks ago I was looking on YT for a guided hypnosis for the void and I did find one, like only one. “Extra deep hypnosis - into the void”. Although I’m not sure if she knows exactly the power of the void, it’s meant to get you into a deep thoughtless state of relaxation.

I tried it once and she is a very good & skilled hypnotherapist. It is a safe & effective video and I plan on trying it again to enter. But as a warning, her channel has a lot of bizarre NSFW hypnosis videos too, so don’t go looking around her other videos unless you are 18+ and want to be shocked 😂😂

[problogsposts]

What Does Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) Look Like?

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, usually known as PTSD, is a mental health condition that can influence any individual who has experienced a traumatic event.

What is Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, frequently referred to as PTSD, is a psychological problem that can foster after experiencing a traumatic event. Trauma can appear in different structures, like accidents, violence, or any circumstance causing serious fear, helplessness, or horror. Individuals with PTSD may experience persistent symptoms that make it difficult to go about their daily lives.

Symptoms of PTSD:

Individuals encountering PTSD might show a scope of side effects, including anxiety, depression, and stress disorder. Traumatic memories, flashbacks, and nightmares that are related to the traumatic event are common. These symptoms can lead to avoidance behaviors, increased profound responses, and difficulty concentrating, influencing individual and professional aspects of life.

Role of Professionals in Managing PTSD:

Those who are dealing with PTSD need to go to counseling sessions with a psychologist, psychiatrist, or counselor who is qualified. Experts specializing in mental health play an important role in assisting people with exploring the difficulties presented by PTSD. A psychologist for depression and anxiety is trained to address the particular necessities of people managing these mental health issues.

Hypnotherapy and PTSD:

Hypnotherapy, a type of psychotherapy, is earning respect for its capability in treating PTSD. The goal of this strategy is to get people to relax and become more open to new ideas. A skilled hypnotherapist can assist individuals in exploring and refocusing traumatic memories thereby decreasing their emotional impact.

Counseling Psychologist and PTSD:

A counseling psychologist, specializing in trauma and mental health, can offer designated help to people with PTSD. Through psychotherapy sessions, a counseling psychologist helps people understand and manage their symptoms, cultivating flexibility and survival techniques.

Conclusion:

Understanding what PTSD looks like is essential for advancing mental health awareness. Looking for professional support from counselors, psychologists, or hypnotherapists is a significant step toward managing and overcoming the difficulties presented by PTSD. If you or somebody you know is struggling with PTSD, contact a mental health professional for guidance and support.

[hypnotherapyschool]

Exploring the Depths of Hypnotherapy Training

Welcome to the Hypnotherapy Training Institute, where the art and science of hypnosis converge to create profound transformations. Our institute stands as a beacon for those seeking to unlock the vast potential of the human mind and help others embark on a journey of self-discovery and healing. In this blog post, we delve into the transformative world of hypnotherapy training, offering insights into the curriculum, methodologies, and the profound impact it can have on individuals and communities.

Understanding the Foundations: At the Hypnotherapy Training Institute, we believe in building a strong foundation. Our curriculum is meticulously crafted to provide a comprehensive understanding of the principles of hypnosis, the subconscious mind, and the art of inducing a hypnotic state. Trainees delve into the history of hypnotherapy, gaining insights into its evolution and the pioneers who paved the way for modern practices.

Hands-On Experience: Learning at our institute goes beyond theory; it's a hands-on experience. Trainees participate in practical sessions where they hone their skills in inducing and managing hypnotic states. These sessions are supervised by experienced instructors, ensuring a supportive and constructive learning environment.

Tailored Curriculum for Diverse Applications: Hypnotherapy isn't a one-size-fits-all approach. Our institute recognizes the diverse applications of hypnosis, from pain management and stress reduction to behavioral change and overcoming phobias. The curriculum is designed to equip trainees with the knowledge and techniques necessary to address a wide array of client needs.

Ethics and Professionalism: Upholding the highest ethical standards is paramount in the field of hypnotherapy. Our training includes modules on ethics, client confidentiality, and the responsible use of hypnosis. We emphasize the importance of professionalism in building trust with clients and fostering a positive reputation within the community.

Building a Supportive Community: The journey through hypnotherapy training is not undertaken alone. Our institute fosters a sense of community among trainees, providing a platform for collaboration, networking, and ongoing support. The exchange of ideas, experiences, and challenges strengthens the learning process and helps individuals grow both personally and professionally.

Beyond Certification: Empowering Graduates: Graduating from the Hypnotherapy Training Institute is just the beginning. We are committed to empowering our graduates with the tools they need to thrive in their careers. Post-graduation support includes continued education opportunities, mentorship programs, and resources to help graduates establish successful hypnotherapy practices.

Realizing the Transformative Power: As individuals progress through the training, they witness the transformative power of hypnotherapy. Whether it's helping clients overcome limiting beliefs, manage chronic pain, or navigate life's challenges with resilience, the impact is profound. Trainees not only learn the techniques but also experience firsthand the potential for positive change that lies within each individual.

[deer-fic-fics]

Oh, to be working on a research paper for class or a newspaper on the latest therapeutic techniques, innocently asking Dr. Harper to allow you to interview them and explain hypnotherapy to you for your project, if they have time. Of course, they’re so busy, it’s okay if they don’t have time to humor you. But they are a leader in their field, making breakthroughs in the field of hypnotherapy, so you’d be remiss not to at least ask…. You ramble on, while Dr. Harper waits as patiently as a predator stalking its prey, with that charming, professional smile of theirs.

“Of course. Let’s find somewhere more quiet to discuss the merits of hypnosis in more detail, so that you can take accurate notes.”

Harper’s ego is stoked by your interest in their work, of course, but as always their primary concern is power and control over the unsuspecting. Imagine reaching their office, expecting a spirited academic discussion of technique, only to realize they’re trying to lead you into trance instead, insisting the best way to understand hypnosis is to experience it yourself. You awkwardly try to excuse yourself, standing and reaching for the door— only to find it locked, and Harper standing right behind you.