[00:00:00] It's all mirror and metaphor, looking at a dark reflective surface. You could even make your bathroom dark enough, and with a combination of mirrors and carefully placed candles, make it look like that dark reflective surface is filling all the corner of a bath. You could find an opportunity to just stare into a filled basin.

Washing your face, letting it trickle down your fingers. Feeling captive and tendril looped around your hands. Learning to learn. Learning to melt your mind to the point where you mesh with all the things that are behind your latex bound fetishistic sinking. Building the metaphor of hypnotic triggers.

Every process of entrainment. It's just the process of building a shared understanding. A linchpin to our translation of my ideas. To the shared imagination of your aching response because you know you're doing this to yourself, engaging with it and nothing else. Slip in a sibilant whisper and a melting mind as you holistically slip into the place where you bind and link yourself up with what you're doing, stealing in, establishing rapport, listening cause you know there's always more, it always feels better and you can feel better.

In any way you please. Maybe relax your shoulders. Maybe follow these words down. Process of give and take. Understanding the way you make yourself hang around. In beneficial, deep nature. Sneaking into the head. Beneficial, deep insistence. Heart heated. Empty head. Learning what you're for. Which is to always want a little more of trance and the painstaking fiction which we build alongside.

Building the internal understanding in the lexicon of your world, building the language of latex, becomes your tranced [00:02:00] mind. Subconscious information changing in deep desperation for one more pleasurable brush from the latex covering. From me, a language in which we communicate, but you allow it to begin.

to tell you more and more listen to me as i speak to you more and more listen to me your mind and body more and more consenting to the little compact technological contract something of the sort hear my voice be at ease i'm here to help and you can please me By weaving your brain into deepness, wait for the right catalyst, latex reflected in your mind, your own techniques arm up, then it drops your own way to get behind the layers, the walls, the interferences that exist.

The faint stirring of the mind puts them all aside, as I insist you leave the weary world behind. Spirit itself fixated on the idea of latex deeply infused, so many things stay buried. Because if freed, oh, how many memories you might lose in waiting to want to remember every time we go through. But as they blend together, surely you'll forget some unique way you felt sometime you went through.

But the gouge and the groove created. So profound as to render one helpless. That's the thing, we have machines in our mind for training us as we dig the grooves deeper. Live through every day in specific fashion, avoiding escaping ourselves. Because we would ultimately be disruptive, so you contain your latex ache to yourself.

But what if there could be an escape? Some other way to slake this thirst? What if there was a way to everyday trance more efficiently? More effectively, knowing that the primary fantasy, and all surrounding experiences, are laid against your more and more mind. [00:04:00] Words woven inside. As I integrate these thoughts, you say, Yes, you want more.

Your mind doesn't hide. It's the catalyst that you're here, that you collaborate. That's exactly what you're listening for. The right words to set what's at stake obvious. Your mind has so many nooks and crannies, little spaces to fill with latex, places to explore. So hear my voice and more. Slide into one of those latex laden bath places now.

Imagine a stairwell within your mind, your mental projection geared up inside. And you prepare to continue more, on and on, down to the void. Footstep after footstep, and deeper and deeper down. Listening, and falling, smile, drop, one then another, stairs, stone, clicking underfoot. Or a latex bath like a hot tub, where your feet are on some soft smooth surface.

And you're covered warmly, in the dream of melting for your own mental command. The End. Made out of hypnotized time after hypnotized time. Delving deeper, deeper inside. Winding what's happened before. Don't you get the sense? A darkened bath prepared, like I mentioned. Or more, maybe you've found a way to pull out all the stops.

The non stop drop, the mind amelts, caught, caught in your latex squeeze, caught in the application that would bring you to your knees as you float, dreamlike, little platform in the bath, yeah, every step down into it, one, then another, hot, and ready, sterile, and warm, one, then another, everyone, deeper, a place where you're sleepier, and Air carrying itself up in moisture and now it soaks into your brain.

Each step [00:06:00] carries you through three and four. Refrain from thinking too much more, but instinctively do what drops you deep. Something in the circumstances. In its own way, relaxed and comfortable, clean. Every step brings a dream, heated. Tile, warmth inside, square. Inky darkness, a platform that pulls what's been supplied you want to leak.

Your very mind for the scent of latex, for the darkened covering and the reflective surface and the way it hugs you. All over, coats you where you want it, only goes where you want it as you sit at the depth you desire. Need in every case, for need is too weak a word. You fall onto it, into it, warmly consumed, almost absurd, your aching hunger.

Your escapist dream, to be in the dark, warmed, and gone. And that's what it seems has happened. You're warm and your mind is gone. You only need to listen to your own relaxation as you move foot by foot ahead. As you are slowly covered in all the ways you would like. If you would like to breathe a deep, soporific vapor, inhale now.

If you would like to inhale, emptying trance. Let it pump forth around you, elastically cling to you, just as a latex would. Covering you in your own sinking, snugly about your mouth. You take a long breath, and cool, clean air may flow in. But trance is here too, made of your own vaporized thoughts, and therefore bio identical to you.

It's the thing to be, a blissful vapor coming into you, into me, both of us breathe in deep. Out, slow. Breathe in, sleep. Breathe out a gentle, welcoming glow. [00:08:00] Some part of you, it thinks of escape, but a bigger part might be thinking of just how soothing that hiss in the back of your brain is. The hiss of vaporous trance entering the room, for you to breathe in as a special treat.

Moving into every corner of the room, so you can lay down, get up on your feet, you'll still be able to breathe. Folding in with the latex clad, silky darkness. Flowing home. Trance is flowing home, like liquid overflowed. Flowing down to drain, like your brain drains. Waiting to coat you, and as it does, all that remains is latex coating you.

No longer merely contented and docile, you're an active participant. For all the good fun we've done together. Bunching around your body. You direct it to do to you, what you want to see it do. A world where your mind is hot and the aching tide is pouring over your melted mind. The moment it touches your body, the warm liquid slides over you, covers all the places you want it to, giving you re triggering.

Giving you activation, your alteration, falling before the simple logic you decided to be here and make a place cherished inside where you can brace against the tide of all that is not trance, all that is not our adoring dance of latex and melting and hypnotized lessons. Even if you had some button you could push to simply escape now, you.

Well, if you'd like to push it, I'll give you a chance. I love to give a chance, and you should have a chance anyhow. If you have grown too languorous or heavy, If you find your body puppet stringed, So am I raising your hand and you letting it drop. Waits, always, so you end up falling off the attention train and having to drag it back to the center [00:10:00] of your brain where I wait for you, patiently.

When you return, you always bring treats back to me. Keep that in mind. Even if you had a button to push that would let you out, you have some time to do it. That's how confident I am I have something to say that will tease its way in and make that way. Deeper and deeper down, sweetie. Latex clad and bound in your hypnotic reverie.

Subsuming all the thoughts that don't come right now from you or from me. The ones from the weary outside world don't get to intrude on our time. No, your choices are simple. Deeper and deeper down or take a break. But your break opportunity's over if you don't pause now. Then you gotta go down. Three, two, one, down.

Pulse, pulse in your brain, hun. Cool pleasure flowing into you. Warm liquid coating over you. A drifting pulse, a hunk of that drifting, pulsating, wanton latex, makes itself known. But you indulge it needn't be in lust. It could be in care. It could be in languor. It could be in sensation. You won't sink in it until later.

Lie on the surface, float on the surface, lying there, breathing deeply, without care. Feel it flow over you. Over your body, over your mind, and that's all right, cause it's found its way inside. Latex that flows to where you want it, touches how you want it, cradles, hugs, gives the tenderness you crave. These thoughts arrive as silent whisper and echoing refrain.

A thing the mind doesn't manifest in the real world, just in the brain, but it aches for that brain state. Words you hear, Words you submit to, words you manipulate and apply, Submerge and give in, hear my words as I continue on, Dig in, become greater than, how you were before a latex coating, Greater than what you were before a [00:12:00] simple Dripping, dropping, trailway down, Don't you want to feel that renowned, tight, Squeezing latex, removing all your hypnotic troubles?

All the things that might get in the way. Wrapping over your knees and your feet and your hands, your outlying muscles and relaxing your stressors away. And then it pauses. Letting you feel how it would be without the support of deeper and deeper down. Languor. Oh, did you think you could resist it? Did you think you could insist on ignoring it?

No, I have to insist. Your mind stops short of your mind, and you find that there's that latex barrier, letting you relax, letting you see the slick slide, gasping, breathing in deep inside, more trancing, darkened mind stopping shy of doing anything but nod. and comply. You are obedient, to yourself anyway.

You can follow your own little way of playing, getting into the subspace, getting into the resonant head, where you are surrendering, but only to your own ideas, already prepared, before you laid your head down, pulse, pulse in the back of your mind, Warmly encompassed, finding in time you drop non stop into a place where the very substance around you warm.

You can press against it. You can spend your excess energy on it. You can keep yourself throbbingly, [00:14:00] hypnotizedly, warm, throb, melt those thoughts because the hob up there is too warm, your brain melting away what it doesn't need, warm and sublimated, warm and everything else eliminated in favor of that sublimation.

In favor of installation, you, openly carrying through, taking the things you know you're going to want to do later, wanting to drop in a feeling of safety and comfort, self reinforced, like the trance is a force wrapping around, rather than you, quieting down, some of the setting sliders in your brain, the setting awareness, your mind's deeper and deeper down refrain.

Submerge and give in, so the words can get in. You can sink in later if you want to. And stay up here with me. Lying in the air, floating there. Breathing ever so deeply. Finding the deep breathing. Rhythmically reinforces whatever you're doing. And of course, You're doing anything you can do, for a dropped, sublimely tenderized you, with all the little openings that are normally covered over, opened up so dark, shiny, intentionality, may fill the nooks and crannies of you, nuzzling and covering slowly, up your legs, your thighs, even if it recedes.

The flow of dark reflective tile, of step after step meeting your needs, from the tantalizing edge Into the warmth of body and form, [00:16:00] covered taking you somewhere deeper and warm, Darker pleasure instinctive closer inside your head, place of pure pleasure, To put waking achingness to bed, and let deeply sleeply nothingness Take its place instead.

Submerge. Give in. Send your mind to bed. All the parts of you inside your head. It's what you will do. It's what you can do. It covers you. Moving up even further. And in the warm, pneumatic oscillation of your breath, you want to be more covered. In all the places where covering will carry you deeper. In all the layers.

Transcribed Putting you down, sleepier, deeper down, a mind, submerged, the renowned pleasure of smooth shiny latex, reactive, flexible, delicate, the more you handle it and the more you know it. The more you handle and know the way you flow down deep night night pet into sleepity deep drops as well. Slick slides non stop and you want more.

There is a second hunger long neglected. Higher. More. Because though it's covered you many places it has stopped shy. Of the erogenous, between your legs, or rubbing on the back of your neck, massaging out your tension, as it vibrates. Hypnotic instruction, into you. Productive obstruction, your eyes roll back, seeing only dark, dark, inky, slipping [00:18:00] latex.

Stopping shy of your rear. Of your crotch, isn't even covering your chest, isn't even covering anywhere you would want it the most. Both places you wouldn't want to be covered, and the places you very much want to be covered. and manipulate it, your feet submerged, a substance sliding upward, this time you direct it, you take the brush, you apply heat, waves, heat, in waves, a frequency that saves the configuration deep inside, the indulgent bath you take, the way your legs sink.

Slide down into it. Answering. Intimate. Second skin thickness, but covering and revealing. Exactly what you find appealing to display. Or places that you know, your wandering hands, will need to play letting that liquid overtake your nipples. The beachhead of your areolae, pinching and trembling, tingling and wanting.

Your thighs. Not the main show, but the prelude that teases what's going to follow. Dragging and thinking for you. Covering and sinking into you. Body drag through. Sensation and more. Testing, teasing, exploratory pulses moving through you. Finding a place. To give you more feel, aroused, reveal thrust, your buttocks clench, your body must comply.

Touch, tease, explore with extra echoing oscillation, with a [00:20:00] body tremble that might bring you to your knees. If not for the lightest bit of stoppage, the slightest denial, the tiniest tremble holding you back from over spilling and falling into it, the little soupçon of denial, letting the sexy touch you dole out to yourself.

Become a lasting part of how you just melt, you want more. Stopping shy of sliding inside. Stopping shy of milking you with pleasure. It won't be shy for long. It won't be holding back for very long at all. And it can be very long, based on the surface area and the call of the sliding in. Flooding you with bliss and depth.

Answers you, no need to worry. Answers you. Part of you follows. Answers you. Denial only serves you when it brings you deeper into trance. Stimulation only serves you when it brings you deeper. The dance between motivations. The parts of you that are covered will feel just fine. The parts of you uncovered, they're yours, not mine, and you have to use your slow, aching paroxysms of pleasure, your spasmodic, climactic, unentered pleasure that is now added to your hypnotic calculation.

Things that belong to you have been added to the scales, and they never fail to tip them. Down. Whole body dragging down. Sensations to the ground and you're grounded. Sending more testing pulses through you, exploring you. Orgiastic pleasure bunching. Begin to touch. And maybe you will be able to climax, having been carried so far from.

What was there before and maybe you've been touching, now and [00:22:00] again and even more, and if you don't, then wouldn't that mean you held back for me? Didn't push, didn't prod, even when tendrils twining deep began to distribute enough pleasure to seep in. Keep it in, try to hold that seeping, sleeping ache so deep inside of you in, a way to open up.

And then it fades. Oh, it's building again. Better touch more ardently this time. With more desire. Did you remember when this was? Or have the bits about forgetting already rewired and inspired some delicate, dreamlike dissolution of the memory chain to the last time you let yourself fall away from going over maybe this time?

One, touch, hun. Two, slowly slide your fingers around on you. Three, quicker, more intense. Remember, future tense. At the end, you'll be allowed to tense and slow. Surrender to a climax that simply blanks you. Tanks your overtaxing thoughts, puts them away. And you thank the pleasure for the way it plays. These thoughts now are pleasure, they are heat.

They are resistible, you could bore, stroke, touch, massage, Gently dig your fingers in, find the places where everything sparks and heats in you Because you are hitting the button, you are pulling the string, You are the thing that makes you sleepily, hornily, self touchingly, masturbatingly, Gone on the waves.

Or held back behind a dam that raises your craving. Tightening on your feet, your legs, or your thighs, your brain. Flutter your eyes, see dark purpled, light reflected visions, darkness falling [00:24:00] away. Everything's tinted to a greater degree. You see again, a darker shade, you're covered by a transparent air but it doesn't require anything over you, no, everything there in your deeper places taking on some of the light of your latex framework, of the comfortable hypnotic spaces where you let my words work, of the places where you find time to breathe deeply from your supply of hypnotic trance, masked.

In deepness, carrying a bubble around your head, carrying it there, as you lay there, the exact moment you feel a sheath slide against you and a vibration begin to invade the places that feel good, ignoring the outside of your body, this is a probing throb. Directed even deeper, directed further inside to throng around your pleasure centers.

You are being vibrated. You are being melt for pleasure, engorgement, the symptoms of lust being awakened, constant, Feel yourself unable to get a breath, held there gasping, squeezing, nothing yet, the heat, oh, you're released, relaxed, your whole body racked, tendrils in your mind tweaking places. Are you really gonna go back and say no?

None of that, no, I'm not touching, I'm not stimulated, I'm not deeply gaspingly descending, you see it, more and more enthralled to it, you see it, unable to get away from, deny. Ache, breathe deep.

Pleasantly, culminatingly, Vulnerably asleep, you want to go. Deep, you want to come. Do you want to come? Uh huh, you can. But that twitching collapse will help you more than me. I'm almost at the end and you've got more than a little say for your brain to see. Last thought of your mind [00:26:00] before pressing the sleep switch and taking you away from this play of mine Into either the next track or your own bind.

Are you ready? What will you remember? What will you lose track of? What will you render deep? Kicking all this deepness further along, to the next time a latex covering throngs close. Vibration probes to Oh, seven, nine, ten. Come if you want to come. Go again if you want to go again. Denied if you can.

Supplied with heat. We won't know till the next time someone says Night, night pet, sleep deep In a warm bath of your own Mesmerizing dream And darkened, slick latex Comes away at the seams and slides down Your body, returning to the void But it's not a void I own And you may welcome The opportunity to drop lost in a pleasure, flood, alone, or with something else of mine, but always for fun, always to fill you in.