Georgia Confirms You Can't Be Hypnotized
There are about a dozen of you on stage. You stand about half of an arm's length apart from each other, facing the audience. You are at one of the ends of the row of men on stage. Watch me as I face you. Continue to focus on my dress. You are more than happy to take another look at it, and at my breasts too. I love to talk to you, but nothing I say is worth remembering. My voice is pleasant sounding . . . relax . . . let it wash over you. The longer I talk the more time you have to study my dress, the dress that covers my amazing breasts. Fall deeper . . . .
Now you look at the other men on stage. You see that all of the other guys on stage are naked, their clothes lying in piles at their feet. Except for you. You are standing still believing you are dressed believing that you are not yet hypnotized. Yet you don't know why the other guys are smirking at you, looking down at your crotch and laughing at you. No, you are not the dumb ass who has taken off all of your clothes in public just because some control-hungry bitch made you look at her dress. But why are these guys looking at your crotch? Is there nothing to see? You don't believe that you are naked or hypnotized. No woman can control you. But, my friend, you are indeed naked, hypnotized, and controlled, and I will prove it to you.
I speak to the guy farthest from you and asked him his name.
"Tom," he says.
"How are you feeling, Tom?" I ask.
"Okay."
"Do you like my dress, Tom?"
"Oh, yeah!"
You hear laughter.
"Tom, do you feel hypnotized?"
"No, Mistress, I am not even aware I am hypnotized."
You hear laughter. You all laughed at the naked hypnotized fucking idiot, Tom.
"Drop to your knees, Tom."
"Yes, Mistress," and he drops to his knees.
"Tom, have you ever seen the TV show, "Sex and the City"?
"Yes, Mistress."
"Tom, I'm going to guess who your favorite person on "Sex and the City" is, and when I name that person, I need you to do something very special for me. Do you understand, Tom?"
"Yes, Mistress."