[00:00:00] Now, sinking deeply, listening closely. Remember, just like meditation clears the body and mind, if you're descending deeply alongside me, you can learn to set aside your body, then your mind, allowing yourself to leave them behind. You then become an isolated viewpoint. Closing your eyes to visualize this, Let them flutter closed, let your hands rest in a neutral place, and ensure that you have enough time to listen, syncing and connecting, guided in a slow, deliberate process.

You will have to be ready to replicate it in future, during this communal experience together. Therefore, keep in mind how it feels. Awareness roving your limbs slowly. In unison, I will sit here, and devote the time, to helping you along. Help you feel this way, inspire it, give you descriptions, and you allow them to prompt and play you, like an instrument.

I care about whether or not we produce the right mood and atmosphere for your experience. The right impact on your consciousness and you are so conscious you've heard it all before. I slowly milk a little more deep and lazy trance, put it into the field so you'll remember that part of this is about being slowly sunken into your ideal state.

I'm here to help you feel more relaxed by the time we're done. Showing you an alternative experience. Let my [00:02:00] words set you tingling, and they may help. Let my words set you heated, but in a way that is molten and sculptable. Relax. A deeper place is open and receptive for you. introspection, relaxation, and sleep.

Visualizing previously mentioned places, previously explored, hypnotic graces, some at one speed, some at another, all intended to contribute. So all of your capacities to sink deeply, to night night pet and abet my assisting of you, The autohypnotic deepening, already sinking into cause you're doing this, to yourself.

You're mooing this, to yourself. But on the other hoof, it would be difficult to place when exactly you fall into trance. So focus more instead on visualizing with me. I'm participating in improv with me, Impro moving your experience By saying yes As distant waves grow nearer Be they waves of pleasure Or the slowly washing waves On the beach of your mind Where the inky tide of sleep only ever comes in.

Waves nearby, white noise washing the thoughts from your mind. But really your awareness of clothing probably fell away. Before you ended up wanting to be transformed. Letting the cow babe brain out. Letting it roam. That's all that's gonna happen. Your mind's gonna [00:04:00] roam and it's gonna be different when it comes home.

So your mind can wander. I'll still be here doing my thing. Your mind can wander back to me. Alert. The cow bell ring as you are freer and lighter. As we elaborate this chain, Let that notion enter without concern, That as you become freer and lighter, The bell which calls you up will ring, You are nude and comfortable, Clothing has fallen away, At least in the place where you and I play, Lack of analysis, Lack of thought, Peaceable, cow brained existence.

Being without thought is a blissful place to be. Deep inside, somewhere I am intimately familiar with, you are as well. For example, we're going to caress your mind, to tenderize it and lull it into a malleable state of security. And all we need to do for that Is press upon it in a pleasure word direction, Through an agreed force of will.

You relax, let me elaborate, And accept and absorb everything I say. Deeply at peace throughout, Let the part of you that wants to be at peace and soothed, Come to the surface, The part most agreeable to my aims. Looking outward from the sandy beach and over the sea, The cry of seabirds, the gentle setting of the sun on the fired horizon, and as you look out across it and breathe deeply, the washing of waves against the shore.

The sand beneath whirls in a gentle breeze and swirls around you after. It caresses your nude form. A memory of what exactly your form is would be quite difficult to pull down this deep into trance. So instead, the softness of that place is [00:06:00] rubbing away everything unnecessary, buffing you, and leaving just that comfortable sensation.

of being coated and cradled, as you are massaged and chained. Swirling nimbly around you, covering you in mystifying patterns, again to change and reshape you. A part of you exists at the interface between the soft external pressure, and the soft internal pressure. And the gentle internal bearing up. Your mind, capable of believing in the future, reaches out and pulls some of that future back.

And that's behind the motivation to change. Looking at how you could be. Other senses tuning out till it's just you and it's just me. And my voice filling your head. Encouraging, leading you onward. beyond deeply sleepy down. Like the waves crashing on the shore, my words wash over you more, more again once more, mind changing to an alternative image on the shore of your waking world.

Again, and again, each word sending resonating impressions through you, and through you, and though they fade for now, they are within you, they imbue you, like the first time that the waters washed across warm, cow, thoughts as the sand and the tide, and the Rise, rise, the impression eventually becomes ingrained, visible even when the water has receded, even when only your thoughts, soaked as they are, malleable, on display, softened by the sand, only those thoughts have remained, and my words will gradually elaborate, and Explaining the images and transformations required.[00:08:00] 

High tide marks in your brain. As the water from dropping deeper rises. And rises. And though the voice may move nearer. And further. It will always be present. Guiding. Providing. What you want to think of. Providing new ways of thinking in the first place. And that's what you want. A new awareness. Awareness.

An internal awareness, an exploration of the impressions in your mind that stay there, but fade to a lighter color, like those high tide marks I mentioned, becoming more pronounced when they are deep. And discussing this again and again. The waves come and the sand is darker. In the same way that the mind holds an impression of brief hallucinatory change that occurs during trance.

Your tide comes in and leaves changes, and when it departs it leaves you chained. And that's what we're working toward. Allowing yourself comfortable change. To become aware of the body you knew about, before we began, or thought you knew about at least. The matrix we impose on our bodies. The unison of form, function, and understanding, that generates what we think of as our body.

Even when we're not looking in a mirror. We still have a memory of what we think we look like, or what we know we look like. You may think you know yourself like the back of your hand, but, do you really know the back of your hand that well? When we're staring blankly, and I use the word we advisedly, for I have also been known to moo, but when you stare blankly, trying to imagine what you must look like to other people, the image is there.

But the permutation now at a deeper point, covered by those sands, washed away by the tides, can you really [00:10:00] recall that much? Wouldn't you rather be inundated with all the things that I'll help you to touch and crave and attach? Something that, with a gentle prod, we can change here and there. After all, you are aware.

Your body's made up of thoughts. The very thing we're here to highlight and emphasize. How we perceive, touch, smell, sight, sound, taste in relation to the various parts of ourselves. It exists as thought, as stored memory to be accessed later. Superimposing hallucinatorily under hypnotic influence. So move everything aside except for the parts of you needed.

To take a memory, a sensation, a deep imagining, and lend it greater prominence in an anchored and deep place. Everything except my voice can fall away, learn to let go while you descend. Picture the grid superimposing your body glistening, a suit made of lines that only you can see. And to which you may apply transformation with me.

Telling you what you look like, even if you imagine yourself with your eyes closed. This is the new shape of you. A hand, instructive and useful, reaches out for you, assisting. In the same way my voice is reaching into your mind, touching part of your body. Highlighting it and leaving the old behind.

Manipulating perception. Your form is held. Moving it in my hand slowly. You have been prepared with practice. You are tenderized, open, vacant, and ready. And now the shared work begins. At first with a gentle touch across your shoulders. Warm, satisfying contact. Then the hand shifts [00:12:00] downward, toward your chest, past your collarbone.

You can still picture that grid I mentioned, shaped to your body, changing, sculpting, shifting, stroking, building, moving outward. It makes a cupping motion, and you feel the grid of your body under the hand, following it. It is natural that you are shaped that way. Leaving something heavy and rounded. Your chest and sensitive nipples under the hand.

Being sculpted, one and then the other. A work of art, which you are. A work of art set apart and sinking nearer, closer, to where I reach for you from. Feel yourself and the weight. Heavy, warm, moving with your breath. Vital, warm, lifting and dropping. A hand moving over, sculpting and shaping the other side.

Until eventually, you just feel how your shoulders are lighter. Take care. The musculature enhanced along with size, shape, the little bit of bounce, sliding into your body with weight, seeming to grow flatter knowing if you stood that chest would bounce, warmly, caressable, pointed nipples, perfect supple flesh, yes, ignore that for now if you can, cow.

The hand is moving down further across the stomach, down, adjusting the flare of your hips, moving it closer to your envisioning. The palms sliding between your legs gently at first, then more insistently, a sculpting, slow, dredging motion of two fingers curving. Into your hole. Into your cow hole. Massaging soaked and lubricated fingers sliding.

Your sexual response prominent. Riding [00:14:00] and writhing with hips that move. A nub of pleasure being suddenly prodded. Poked, um, escaping. A pleasure almost as good as your nipples. You think that maybe once you may have associated the pleasure somewhere else. Almost as good as Almost as good as Sex? No, that doesn't feel as good as your nipples.

Almost as good as touching yourself. Well, that's not nearly as good as your nipples. That's why your hands always go to your chest. Shaping yourself. Sculpting. You feel two fingers sliding between lips of flesh. You feel the shaping, warm and insistent juices dappling your thighs as the cow hole is massaged, as the soaked, needy, A, that is related to the one related to your nipples and the thoughts in your head which also drip, and go right down the cow hole.

That's right, your thoughts and your aches go in the cow hole. Something deep in you simply surrenders To the movement of the hand The part of your brain that associates with sexual pleasure Being slowly rewired by the cow hole With each touch and caress Between your gripping lips and what's between your ears Just a cow hole And what happens to things that fall down there?

They turn into drippy milk and get stored behind your big, bountiful nipples. Plentifully pleasured, long and leisurely touches of your chest might elicit a drop or two. But you'll need time. You'll need practice being all pent up as you moo. Normally pleasure wouldn't come so easy, but you've been rendered more sensitive.

Body remolded so that when a touch lands on your clit or between the [00:16:00] lips, you find yourself shuddering, gasping, arching, moving toward the touch like someone moving in the stream. Flowing into every caress and there's no way to avoid it. The warm, milky, creamy thoughts that leak also from your box below.

From the soaked cow hole, the overflow of your thoughts escaping. They can leak below or end up in your tits and when your tits are too full, can't think with a big full chest reshaping itself like all the rest slowly lulled into a tenderized cow fantasy as your eyes flutter from me. Your awareness of it might be small at first, but every time, the right trigger, the right anchor, the right little tool of yours and mine is evoked as you take in details and learn how to run your fingers over your nipples, stroke pleasure into them, elicit the moo and the moan, the dripping gentle button of pleasure below in the wet, needy cow hole, making you buck your hips, lose control, curl your toes, moan, Cow, hole, let the stimulation continue.

And increase, and never cease, curves added to your form, hands slide away, feel your juices dappling, with the sheer increase in arousal, new thoughts and sensations crowding up on you, filling you with ache. Juiced apple thighs that set your hips to quake, curves added to your form, hands slide away. You feel your juices dappling them with a sheer increase in arousal.

Aching, remembering this form all day. New thoughts, sensations, crowding your mind. The form you've been consigned to, it's all in the hips, humping. A second wet cow hole, joining the one in your mind, overwhelming, overriding, getting nearer to your mind, every second, and [00:18:00] then slowly, you fall back into the inky, warm, cow place in your brain, just moo and obey.

Surrender to your hips, it's all in the hips. And the horny cow hole below that leaves you sensitive and aching in future. The mounds of your breasts growing, throbbing, releasing pleasure. Their warm, pneumatic detail. Your wet, sensitive pussy below. Affecting your thoughts, the actions enough to stimulate.

Set your teeth on edge, make your back arch, good feelings, eyes flutter, body shiver, flesh warm, sensitive craving yet awaiting the next touch, hips sculpted, hands moving down, your legs, your feet shaped as you'd wish them, stimulated, Excited, wonderful in scope and it continues. Your mind being sculpted as your body changes.

In the same way touching gives vast pleasure to your body. Thinking of your milky, full breasts fueled by the soaked cowhole below. And the cowhole above is filling you. Radiating pleasure, relaxation, pleasure out through all the tributaries of the nervous system or river. That runs through you, reaching the interface between mind and body, the ocean and the beach.

Your physical form merely a protrusion of the changes made to the variables underneath the ocean, branching to the land. Mind following, satisfy the two of us, hand in hand as tension leaves your body. It left your body long ago when we breathed it out, you know, as much as you missed it. And now it stays out.

You remain. It's what you think about. It's what you need. Explore [00:20:00] yourself. Tension. Then untensed. Relaxed and free of the usually omnipresent demands of the weary world outside. You're able to understand, consider your form, what you thought and what you feel now, and now we choose. We assign it an anchor, a firm thing you can use as a tool to return to moo, to the moo you, to the state you're in now, cow, mind surrendering now, cow, an image to connect everything around, particular fantasy or fetish if you're here, listening, you probably had one in mind before we began, so let me explain.

Envision the perfect form, by which I mean a body, defined by its soft and warm, submissive, surrendering, vital, milky, function, nipples, firm, demanding, confident in your satisfaction of your own urge. You know you wouldn't be able to resist, what it's your own brain insisting on, a feeling of emptiness in your yawning, open mind.

Open cowhole, thoughts turn to liquid and drip down the cowhole, needing to be filled, waiting to be filled, your mind elsewhere. The greatest pleasure comes from being milked anyway, and we haven't even talked about that yet, about your milking. A hand reaching out, stroking your mind. Pushing away thought, leaving only pink warm relaxation.

The feeling of a brain heavy with honey, so your thoughts have trouble escaping. Heavy with honey, but my words can fall in through the honey, down to the surface of your brain, which is at the center. Delicious and candy coated. And a hole below into which the honey mingled thoughts as they melt in that cocoon may [00:22:00] drool and then go to play in your breasts behind your nipples vision of you on all fours large full milky nipples flowing as they're stimulated milked by hand your teats tugged with a pump either way fulfilling the function you are meant to a faint uh, uh, moo Passing through the Mu Yu, and through your mind.

You are closer to completeness now that you understand what you are, but now, you must understand what you are for. Slowly sliding thoughts over the slick surface, around your areole, and questing fingers follow those thoughts. Moving slowly but definitely, grasping and massaging at your nipples, Ready to be sculpted, just as your body has been.

Ready to be given instructions. You see, your mind's my accomplice. My assistant in doing these things. Because you're doing them to yourself, I'm just giving you good ideas. In Changing Your Perception, I've given you a few common perceptual tricks and tried to walk you through. Motivation, and dropping, and night night pet, and heavy nipples.

Dripping cow holes, your lips parting. Don't you just wish to taste the way you feel now? The wantedness and blankness of a good cow. Flowing down the cow hole. Into your chest, your mind follows, and so does the rest as the computational space In your brain, expands, open to me using your own tools, your own hands, to tease and train and replicate in you, all the swirling hypnotic things, so plainly in view to me, and now built in you.

Tools you use on yourself like a deft moo, [00:24:00] and like a cow name to designate when you should feel like this. I like Mirabelle, but you can default to. Buttercup or any other of your choice as well, feel the supple response of your mind being tripped over that line. Your name and a finger. Snap your name and aren't you a good cow?

Got milk now, cow. Yes, you do those full pointed nipples ready almost to flow like it's gonna burst forth. Overflow, a glow in your brain. The milk in your teeths, comes from your mind and your cow holes. Substitute the one response for the other. Your mind builds all these things and then releases them.

Takes you down, constructs them. A scenario to assist you as we build you a new body. Replacing the old template, and the start should ring a bell. Imagine a cowbell, small and simple. Might be on a choker or a collar. Might simply be part of a leash, so that someone walking you. Handling you, would know if you moved.

But you can also just wear a bell for yourself for aesthetics or any other reason. Lay that image out, wrap it around your neck. If you have one at the ready, you can get it, you can pause, you can put it on. Envision a name imprinted on it, maybe it's there already. Write it on a slip or a strip, if you must, but you can also just get one made.

Trusting yourself to bestow a little more ump on the ritual of putting a cowbell, a cowbell on a collar for you. Whatever horny cowgirl name you pick, imbued and embedded, will be tied to the sloshing of milk in your breasts. A collar to put on with your name, when you say your name. Maybe your cow name.

Your cowgirl, milky breast, [00:26:00] submissive, aching, bound name. Maybe you pick it in advance and it only means anything to your hypnotized brain. If you're wearing this specific collar, That's a common rule. Needn't tell me the name, your mind'll tell yourself. Maybe you're surprised, but MiraBowl's on the shelf, or Mira, for short.

Whatever horny cowgirl name you pick, tied to that sloshing milk, to your brain flowing quickly to your sensitive nipples, cause it's following and my attention is on your sensitive nipples. Envision your cowgirl name. Figure it out, carry it with you. Whenever you hear that name said by someone you trust, someone who knows its importance, someone you've given that to, or by you into your own ears, or by me if you wish it, dear, hearing the name Mirabelle, or Mira, Or Buttercup, or Daisy's a good one too.

Pick the one that works for you. Daisy, D A Z E Y, that's a hypno cow thing. Maybe. Cowgirl name, and what goes with it. Remembering it's importance. Returning here, to this. When you hear it in the right way, at the right time. And thus will come your real shape that will be very pleased with chest rubs, perhaps.

Or just with being led. With a collar or a leash and a bell in mind. Whatever you have in mind. Applying the parts of it that help you. That lock you in and anchor to your name. Cow. When you walk around normally, you remember the body. Why not go out in it, transform transfixed and everything that comes with it, the thing you will later return to.

But when you hear your cowgirl name, you feel the moo [00:28:00] waiting to escape you. No matter what form you've had to pretend to have all day, the moment you hear that exquisite name, whispered, murmured, doesn't matter, long as it's coming from the right place, as long as you've heard it in the right context, then moo are free to do as you please.

Taking a clear trigger lets you lend it oomph, moving and swaying your hips, your soaked cow holes drip. Your fingers on your suddenly erect nips, the moment of transformation. A full moo for the werecow mind. Cow form, milky breasts, warm and melted. Standing, or hands and knees, a caress around you. Touching the backs of your knees, your shoulder blades, your neck.

Doesn't have to go to your breasts, that's too easy. That's too obvious in a good cow, and that's you, a single united good cow with cow holes. You are complete and whole, certain words summon the cow, girl, thoughts to the front of the fold, remind you of it, of you, the beauty and simplicity. Collar and bell around your neck, leather comfortable, you can tell it's gonna really have more oomph.

Hearing your name with a bell in place, or a collar in place, or just with your eyes closed, keeping pace with my words. In your mind you hear the call, the honeyed mind of cowgirl shape. Take a transformation, detailed above. Attach it to the fetish of your cowgirl form. Triggered by the name, held, envisioned.

It's there in your mind, milky and warm. Repeated and whispering. Constant and reassuring, it is permission. To grow and to glow. To move slowly, forward, on feet or hands and [00:30:00] knees. Leash attached by a lover, or submitting to yourself and your needs. Desiring everything, encouraging you to move forward, onward, relaxed and listening, relaxed and submissively sublime, and as you do relax, you're pushed onward into pleasure.

Your sexy form with its curves moves forward, drifting and yearning. Envision being on a beach, on hands and knees or sitting back comfortably, in sand that gently, silkenly wraps around you, cradling and indulging. Your relaxed form, as the sun sets over the water. Someone brushing fingers over your sensitive supple skin, reaching underneath and squeezing your nipples, whispering your name.

Is it me? Is it you? Is it someone else you'd want to? However the cause comes down, a good cow is allowed, briefly guided to your feet to feel what milking is like, to stand with your mind containing the image of your form, your name. You hear it as your nipples are squeezed and they are more sensitive.

Instantly, a word which has significance for you now. More than it did before we began. A name, your name. We've spent a long time building that perfect cowgirl body in detail. Your mind, allowed to do most of the work. Your body jerks and um, humps away. Your hips moving, feeling the need and visualization, the powerful desire to be milked already in your head.

You want to kneel, want to submit, or want to lay back and just allow your mind to open to words instead. When you hear your name, selected and amplified, echoing in your mind, even [00:32:00] now, it reminds you of this time, returns you to this state, allows the cow form to manifest and act every time you hear it.

Every time you're shape, dripping, drooling, cow holes, full of thoughts that turn into milk, out of control, but under your control, you're doing this to yourself, pointed nipples, aching desire, who you are, what you are, encapsulated in a firm cow image already ensconced in your mind. Already grown more emphasized, Powerful the longer we go on, Every time you hear, Ideal cow form, Your mind internalizes Mooing its way through, Pleasurable twitch after twitch, Need after need, All of you caught up in that simple word, That anchored phrase, that triggered indeed, So while you go through your days Acting normally, For you, and you'll be done when you're through With whatever cow fun causes you to evoke your name Or allow it evoked into docile, blank, waiting cowgirl brain Heavy breasts, leaden nipples, collar around your neck Bell and desire These are the ideas.

These are handed to your subconscious. Only had to pass them to you in passing. Thank you. Build on them. Thank you. Incorporate squeeze. Your nipples being squeezed by those deft. And welcome hand. Squeeze, massaging fit to make your hips grind back. Buck forward, squeeze. Your chest tingling, euphoric.

Fantasies about service. Fantasies about your chest and your body. And silly mooing delight. The next time this template comes to light from your name, used in the right context, used just the same, you hear it in place of the [00:34:00] examples I gave here. That's your name now, dear. Pushes play on the memories of your descent, of how you feel now, of a transformed, well milked cow, drippy cow holes, capturing thought out of control.

And now your ascent, slowly up or on to another one, And you can't get enough as hands cup your breasts, massage your chest, and move you through hypnotic incorporation, triggering, and re instantiation. Enjoy cow. What?