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Greater Self

by jessielynn

Greater Self

I know what she has done to me. I know and within me it causes a
churning feeling of shame, fear and limitless love. I think I know
because, this much she allows me.

She possesses me, totally. I do not know how deeply, but moreso, I
suspect than any human has been owned, controlled and possessed.
Possessed, as by a demon. She found it easy to take me as prey. It was
like a cheetah bringing down an antelope, with grace and sensuousness.

A couple years back, I entered a hypnosis clinic to stop smoking. Yes,
it worked well. My wife, now my Greater Self, attended with me so she
could act as an operator for follow up and reenforcement. About a year
ago, she suggested we see if I was still responding to the induction
commands. I had seen the library books on hypnosis, around, and even
looked at some of them, so I was interested too. Besides, I found it
sexy for her to "put me under".

Soon I found myself coming to her every evening, begging for another
session. It had become a narcotic. Soon, she was putting me to sleep
every night, as she still does. I cannot say that I noticed the changes.
It seems I was always this way. It seems right. She is wise. I need her
guidance in all things. This is why I have given her my credit cards and
my check is direct deposit to her account, where I cannot access it. She
gives me a small allowance. All I need, and I account for it all. She
provides everything I need. I shop. I buy groceries, and she collects
the change when I get home. I buy her clothes and mine, but must ask her
for money in front of the clerk. It is such a sweet feeling,
acknowledging her control like this. I must also ask for money in
restaurants. And in restaurants, she orders and it is always excellent.
She knows how to choose for me. And she decides what I can wear. She
makes my face burn in department stores, where I buy very little from
the men's. She likes me in feminine men's style. She likes me to wear
jewelry, a little makeup, and a trace of Trèsor or Opium, in the
evening. I feel not right without a bra and nylons, and I think she has
helped me with this. And yes, the bra! Somehow, I really remember myself
as a young girl, sometimes as a boy. Confused but provoking images, my
nipples and breasts itching, fiery to the touch, and growing. Did they
really grow? Look at them. This is not padding. I have many memories of
myself as a young girl.

When she is seated and strokes her nylon covered legs I MUST kneel and
beg to worship her. I know this is implanted, and that there is a hold
on the command to not do it in public. She loves to do this in public
and with company. I think she fully knows the storm of desire and need
that are unleashed in me. I know she custom designed this torture. By
touching my arm, just above the elbow she makes me say, "she is my
owner". She uses this in many circumstances. She can make me dizzy with
terror, humiliation and lust. She can and does so effortlessly. I am
trained to satisfy her orally and to become erect when she wishes to use
me. And I am trained to never achieve orgasm. And I find I cannot

So, now I am hers, specifically trained to meet her wishes and
pleasure. I? I? I am only She, My Greater self. My reward? She keeps me
constantly in expectant ecstasy, semi erect, itching breasts, terrorized
and loved. The only happiness in a male world is for her to deign to
become your Greater Self.


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