Into The Lion's Den

It is because I trust that no one will read what I have written, that I am willing to put into writing the events that have befallen me, even in my own private diary. Other than this, I don’t believe I shall tell a soul what I have experienced, not even my cousin, on whose account the events that befell me have come to pass. I daresay he’ll notice that I have changed, and wonder why, but it would be a disgrace to tell him what I learned at the lecture of Dr. James Braid.
James Braid…I cannot now write that name without a thrill of excitement running through me. It scares me to know that the hold he took on my mind still has these lingering effects, but the thrill of excitement overpowers the fear. It is as if it is tangible, sitting pleasantly between my legs. I’ll say no more now, as I find myself unable to keep hold of the pen…

…I suppose, for the purpose of recording the effects of the new science of hypnotism, I ought to put what has just transpired in this journal as well. As my excitement grew, a feeling almost like hysteria seized me. As I sat there, alone in my bedroom and wearing only a nightgown, I felt a pull from between my legs, beckoning my fingers to it. As the tips of my fingers approached the spot between my legs, the pull grew stronger, and with it, the hysteria and euphoria grew until I had almost reached a paroxysm before my fingers met my sex. I began to rub shamelessly, like a beast in heat, and the pleasure welled up within me like a bubble, growing so large inside me that I worried that my body would not be able to handle the strength of the waves of pleasure when it burst. Within seconds, hysterical paroxysm seized me, traveling through my body in waves of euphoria so strong that I could scarcely manage them. I collapsed, lost track of time. Whether I was unconscious or hypnotized, I do not know, but when I came to myself again, I had to light another candle, as the one I had lit before had burnt out.

But I suppose I must tell you where my tale begins. I am almost ashamed to put the name of my Reverend cousin on the same page as the smut I’ve been writing, but it all begins with his denouncement of the gentleman scientist , hypnotist and surgeon James Braid, In an impassioned speech, Reverend Hugh M’Neile denounced the science of hypnotism which Braid had developed from the works of Mesmer and Lafontaine. Hugh was a slight man standing before a sedate church, wearing the most proper of London-style attire, yet his manner was as furious as a savage’s. He began by promising, with an air of complete certainty that in the days of reckoning, men like Braid and Lafontaine would meet their downfall. He screamed himself hoarse that Braid was a corrupt conman, until I was certain he could speak no more, but speak more he did, hollering that animal magnetism was but another term for satanic agency. At the time, I knew nothing of hypnotism. Though I had a distaste for anything I thought to be ungodly, the fury and commotion in the speeches of my cousin always reminded me more of the agents of darkness than those of light. I would never wish to speak ill of my cousin, but I wonder sometimes if he would not do better to imitate the mild-mannered preachers of old.

I learned from Hugh only a few days later that Dr. James Braid had extended to him an invitation to a talk, in which, he said, he would dispel whatever misconceptions Hugh had about Neurohypnology, as Braid called the science. Hugh had scoffed and thrown the letter on the ground, but the rage with which he did so sparked a fire of rebellion within me. I told him that I would be willing to attend the talk in his stead, and tell him if anything Satanic had transpired there. To this, Hugh scoffed.

“He purports to be a man of science. Do you think he would run that image by telling his secrets to a woman?”

I thought fast, then said, “Perhaps he would only tell his secrets to a woman. Perhaps he would think no one would believe a woman anyway if she said he were Satanic.”

Hugh sighed.

“Do as you wish,” he said, “If your father will allow you to attend, I have no power to stop you.”

Thankfully, Papa did allow me to take Hugh’s ticket and attend the lecture. I left Hugh with a promise that I would keep him informed on what transpired there. His parting words to me were “Like Daniel of old, you will be entering the lion’s den. Pray that God will shield you, and you may make it out unharmed.”

“Danielle of the lion’s den,” Papa chuckled as I stepped onto the coach.

And then I was on my own. Dr. Braid had sent only one ticket to the event, and Papa had as little desire to attend as Hugh did, so I was in the carriage alone. When I stepped out, I was made even more aware of my vulnerability, as men of science jostled past me into the lecture hall, accompanied by wives adorned in much more ostentatious fineries than my Sunday best. I was the only unaccompanied woman in attendance, and I felt small and lost. I took a seat in the back of the lecture hall and began to pray, as Hugh had recommended.

Then the lion himself took the stage: Dr. James Braid. I noted the differences between his manner and that of Hugh. Where Hugh was lean, Dr. Braid was burly. His coat hugged the girth of his arms and shoulders. It tapered dramatically to a swallowtail in the back, while in the front it was buttoned just low enough to show the dazzling red of the silk vest that lay underneath. His calves were visible under his kilt; the massive size of them seemed to me almost unbecoming of a scientist. For a moment, I felt a flash of curiosity about the kilt…what did men wear under them? What did the rest of the leg look like? For a moment, I almost wished that he would lift the kilt in front of me.

I liked Braid’s demeanor as well. The lecture hall was small enough that I could tell even from the back row that he simply had none of the nervous air that some men get before speaking, I could see his gaze even and his breathing steady, and I wondered what the secret was to his unshaken demeanor. I imagined what it might be like to have a husband who was so calm and confident, how I could feel safe in the arms of such a man. Then Braid began to speak. He addressed the audience as if they were friends, assuring us that it was quite understandable that we might have some misconceptions, but that the light of truth would put our minds at ease. He was, after all, ultimately in the service of truth.

A man of truth…I felt more at ease hearing him say it, since I know that God is truth, and no man of truth could ever be a man of the Prince of Lies.

He explained to the audience his discovery: that the hypnotic state was not induced by the force of the mesmerist, as Franz Mesmer and Lafontaine asserted, but that the power to enter the state lay dormant in each subject. The state of hypnosis, he explained, was induced by engaging the subject’s concentration intensely on a single object. But the strangest thing of all was that Dr. Braid seemed genuinely sorry that Reverend M’Neile had not been in attendance at his talk. He spoke as if he bore no ill will toward my cousin as a person, but merely pitied his misinformed state. It was for this reason that I decided to raise my hand when he took questions. Even from the back row, the only single woman at the lecture was conspicuous.

“And ye are?” he asked in his deep brogue.

“Danielle M’Neile,” I answered quietly.

“Just out of curiosity, are you related to Reverend M’Neile?”

“He’s my cousin.”

The doctor smiled.

“Well, ask away then, ask away.”

I searched for some way to encapsulate the many questions that were swarming in my mind, some about his opinion of my cousin, others about the talk he just gave, and still others that were too improper to express…that curiosity about what was under his kilt. I forced the untoward questions out of my consciousness and tried to sum up my many thoughts as best I could.

“Well, I was just wondering, doctor…I do concentrate singularly on many things. When I’m praying in church, for instance. And I was just wondering, why isn’t hypnotism happening then?”

I wondered if I had sounded silly as the doctor paused, formulating his response to my question.

“I think there are many questions in the one. You seem to be questioning a bit about whether the theory is scientific, and a bit about my attitude toward religion? Am I right?”

I nodded.

“Let me just assure all of you that I respect religion. I go to church and pray, and I admire a man or woman who does so.”

The feeling that he might admire something about me was strangely euphoric.

“As for why prayer doesn’t lead to hypnotism, my answer is that sometimes it does. The meditation and mental self-discipline that is the prayer of the Eastern religions especially, as well as the so-called séances and fortune-reading of the occult. Contrary to the claims that the occult phenomena come from powerful forces beyond our control, there is nothing supernatural about the hypnotic state, no invisible magnetism or force of any angel or demon. It’s a completely natural state that any mind can enter.”

I thought as he took questions. He certainly seemed to sincerely believe what he said. There was only one way to know for sure. He said that any mind could undergo the process and realize that it was a natural state. I’d have to put my own mind to the test. When Dr. Braid said that time remained for only one more question, I raised my hand. He nodded toward me

“I was wondering,” I said, my heart hammering in my throat, “If you had time to give me a demonstration of hypnotism.”

“Aye, I think I shall have time,” he said.

And that was that. There was no turning back. My mind was to be put to the test, and I was to experience something that but a few days prior I had been told was Satanic. How could I have known then, what it would be like? Indeed, I was bracing myself for just about anything.

As the crowd filed out, Dr. Braid motioned for me to follow him backstage from where he had given the lecture. I followed, and he opened a door to a room that had two comfortable-looking chairs facing each other. He held the door for me and, slightly comforted by the gesture, I entered the room. I sat in one chair and he in the other.

“May I ask you a question now, lass?”

I nodded.

“What are you thinking now that you’re here?”

“I’m…nervous,” I said truthfully, “I don’t know what to expect.”

“That’s understandable,” he said, “And you’re perfectly free to leave if you’ve decided this isn’t what you want to do.”

“But if it is,” I ask, “what can I expect, from hypnotism?”

“Ah, hypnotism can give a great many pleasant sensations. I often use it on myself to bring about a sense of relaxation.”

Ah, so that was his secret then.

“The only limit is what your mind can make, and what it wants to,” he said.

I pushed thoughts of how I had wanted to see more of the doctor than is proper deeper into the dark recesses of my mind that would hopefully never be explored.

“Dr. Braid,” I said “I’ve decided I do want a demonstration.”

“Alright, lass,” he said, “And ye may call me James, if ye wish.”

“Alright, James.”

He produced a pocket watch from a pocket of his vest. It glinted in the rays of sun that were coming in from the window of the room, and the glare caused me to squint.

“This will be your object of concentration,” said James, “Just relax and concentrate on the pocketwatch,”

He moved the watch closer to my face, swinging it gently. As he brought the watch closer to my face, I felt my eyes relaxing.

“Let your eyes relax all the way down, heavier and heavier”

My eyes closed in total relaxation. I was still thinking about the pocketwatch, but this time I was imagining myself swaying on that chain, as if in a relaxing hammock. It was a feeling of lightness and calm.

“You’re swaying, lass,” murmured James, his voice deep and growling, “Would you like to continue swaying, or would you like me to steady you?”

So relaxed…it was hard to even speak. But I knew I wanted to feel his hands, his breath, I wanted to feel him on me.

“You may find it hard to speak initially, when you are hypnotized, but you know that when you are certain of the answer you want to give, you’ll be able to voice that answer. Anything at all that you need to say, you will find yourself able to say while under hypnosis. And you may begin using that ability now.”

I wanted him on me. I knew. And suddenly I was saying what I knew.

“Steady me. Touch me.”

“You know I can steady your body without touching it. I want you to take a deep breath.”

I breathed in.

“As you let out that breath, you will feel your body floating weightless, yet completely supported. You feel sleepy, yet content.”

“Sleepy, yet content” I murmured, feeling that I could drift into the best sleep I had ever had, a sleep that was not only refreshing, but in which I could have any dream I wished. I was dreaming of James’s rough firm hands lifting up his kilt, of crawling under it to see what he wore under the garment…then I noticed James’s voice once more, bringing me gently down from my floating state, down, down to the chair I was sitting in…landing softly, becoming awake and alert once more.

I opened my eyes. James was eyeing me up and down…the frightening and yet somewhat enticing thought occurred to me that I had told him of my untoward imaginings about him.

“What did I tell you?” I asked.

“Enough,” he answered, and in that one word, I knew that I had murmured every secret desire.

“But you didn’t touch me,” I said

“Nay, The point of the demonstration was to show that hypnotism is possible without the hypnotist touching the subject,” he said, then he looked me in the eye with a smoldering sincerity, “I give you my word as a gentleman that I’ll never let anything that happens here reach the public against your will. Now, you have a choice to make. You’re free to leave without being hypnotized again, and you’re also free try it again, this time, letting me touch you.”

I paused, thinking.

“You have a wife,” I said finally.

“My wife’ll be expecting me to do this when I’m travelling,” he said “she won’t mind. She’ll keep your confidence as well as I.”

Skeptical, I asked,”What if I write to her?”

“Feel free to write to either of us,” he said, “no matter what you decide.”

I thought for such a long while that I thought I might be taking too much time, but James reassured me that he had nowhere else to be that day, and only wished me to be sure of my decision. Finally I said

“Hypnotize me again. And touch me anywhere you want.”

He pulled the pocketwatch out again, dangling it before me, he uttered one command

“Focus”

My eyes drifted to the watch. Excitement about what I was about to do ran through every fiber of my being, reaching the most secret parts of my body and mind.

“Focus and feel. Feel your eyes relaxing down as they did last time…so relaxed, so heavy. A heavy sleepiness, falling over your whole body.”

I couldn’t understand it. The excitement was still there, but no longer did it electrify my body. Instead, it washed over me as if it were outside me, like the rushing waves washing over a placid body on a tropical beach. I noticed moisture pooling between my legs, but I was in too deep a state of relaxation to care.

“As you go deeper into trance, you may find yourself wanting to say yes or no to anything I tell you I’m going to do to you. You’ll find that you are still able to say yes or no as you wish. Do you understand, lass?”

“Yes.”

“Now I’m going to slide my hand up your leg…say yes if you want this and no if you don’t.”

My yes was instantaneous, but followed by a pang of shame. Then I felt his touch, firm and unwavering, first at my ankle, then moving up my leg deliberately.

“Good and as I move closer and closer to your sex, you find yourself feeling more and more aroused, and the more aroused you are, the less ashamed of it you’ll feel, and the less ashamed of it you’ll feel, the more aroused you are.”
By the time his hand reached my knee, I was whimpering. More and more untoward thoughts were flooding my mind…I wanted to see his legs, his organ, everything. I wondered if he would ever wear the kilt shirtless like I imagined some old Celtic warrior would do.

“I will,” he said, though I was unaware he had spoke, “As my hand strokes higher and higher on your leg, you will find your eyes opening. When you open your eyes, I will have removed my frock coat, shirt, and vest. You will see me wearing nothing from the waist up. From the waist down, you’ll see me wearing what I’ve been wearing all day. Now open your eyes, awake and alert.”

He snapped, and I opened my eyes instantaneously. Indeed, he had removed every article of clothing covering him from the waist up. I glanced about the room in puzzlement, as I didn’t see the garments anywhere, but I didn’t pay it too much mind. I felt hot and flushed from looking at his shirtless, muscled chest, broad trunk that led up to even broader shoulders, and thick arm resting on my thigh.

“Liking what you see, lass?” he asked.

“Yes,” I moaned, breathlessly.

“Someone told me you wanted to crawl under this kilt.”

“I was curious what you wore under it,” I said defensively.

“Shoes,” he smirked.

“Anything…else?” I pleaded.

“Imagine that,” he said, “A lady askin’ about my underthings. Why don’t ye find out for yerself?”

I got down on all fours and moved between his legs. I found no undergarment, instead, I was face to face with his thick, veiny organ, large and fully erect. The last of my shame vanishing, I said “May I touch it?”

“Why don’t you do me one better and put your mouth on it,” James growled.

Hesitantly, but with relief, I placed my mouth on the organ. The feeling of it in my mouth was strange to me, my mouth had never felt so full. As he thrust in and out of me, he instructed me to move my tongue along the shaft and head, and to suck with my mouth. Beads of drool fell from my mouth as I tried my best to suck onto the large organ thrusting in and out of my mouth. I realized that under any other circumstance, I would be ashamed of what I was doing, but James’s words seemed to echo in my mind even though I was awake. The more aroused I am, the less ashamed I’ll feel, and the less ashamed I feel, the more aroused I’ll be.

“Look at you,” said James, “your mouth on my organ like a shameless tart.”

I tried with all my might to feel embarrassed at my state, but all the good it did was to make me whimper with arousal. I knew I was being further humiliated by my whimpering, but all I could feel was a throbbing need between my legs that was so, so pleasant.

“I wonder if you want to feel me inside you.”

“Oh yes, please,” I moaned.

With that, James withdrew abruptly from my mouth. I whimpered for his touch.

“Would you mind, lass, if I hypnotized you one last time?”

“You would want to take me while I was hypnotized,” I said, aghast.

“Not if you don’t want to,” James said, seeing my expression.

“Want to?” I asked “I’d love to!” Indeed, the feelings I’d had, looking at him, being hypnotized by him, had been like nothing I’d ever felt before.

“You might want to sit down,” he said, gesturing toward the chair. I sat back and saw his hand move once again. I missed where it went, but next thing I saw, he was holding the watch again. At the familiar command to focus and the familiar swaying of the watch, I began to feel the familiar floating sensation, and the heaviness in my eyes. No sooner had I closed them than I felt James’ hands on my head, gently rocking. I felt the tension that had been in my neck leaving, taking the all the tension that had ever been in my body with it. Then I felt his hands in my hair, indeed, it was all I could feel.

“I have you in my power now,” he said, so close to my ear that I could feel his breath on me, “The more I tighter I grip your hair, the deeper into trance you will go. And because you enjoy going into trance so much, my grip on your hair will feel so good.”

“So good, so good,” I murmured mindlessly as he gripped my hair.

“I’m going to place raise your skirt now,” said James, “As your skirt moves higher, you’ll find yourself becoming more and more deeply hypnotized. As you move deeper into a hypnotic state, you will find yourself becoming more and more excited by the thought of me inside you, until finally, when I enter you, you will fall deeply into trance, your mind blank and your body riding waves and waves of pleasure”

“Yes,” I moaned. I felt the familiar touch on my ankles, moving up to my knees, not stopping there…I needed that touch between my legs…higher, and higher, and higher still the touch moved and deeper and deeper, sleepier and sleepier became my mind. My mind was opening, blossoming like a flower, ready to receive whatever suggestion he offered as easily as a rose receives a bee.

“My hands are on your breasts now.”

No sooner had I opened my mouth to groan my consent than I felt the firm hands, kneading my breasts. Those hands…so strong…able to break me but instead touching me gently. I melted at his touch on my breasts and, I now realized, on my skirt at the same time, both pairs of hands so equally firm and deliberate that I was unable to tell which was a figment of my imagination and which real. Then, suddenly, I felt one pair of hands again, and they were at my sex.

“I’m going to place something inside you now. When I place it inside you, you’re going to feel as if you’ve been given a powerful aphrodisiac.”

I felt the hands, surgically precise, prodding inside, placing something inside me. Then it was as if my need was increased a hundredfold. I spread my legs and bucked my hips forward to show my readiness.
As James entered me, I felt as if I was in free fall, falling through waves and waves of intense pleasure. It didn’t subside…James would not let it.

“Ten times stronger…twenty times stronger…” he growled as he thrust into me.

“Yes, yes!” I shrieked as the ecstasy grew more and more intense...so intense that it would have been difficult to bear had I been awake. Finally, he allowed my free fall to end, and I settled comfortably into a deep hypnotic state, the rhythm of his thrusts gently rocking my body. I felt a bone-deep contentment as he climaxed inside me, the same contentment, I surmised, that he must feel as well. As James withdrew from me, I could feel his hands on my hair again, this time gently stroking.

“Now, it is time for me to release my hold on you,” said James, and again I felt his breath in my hair “When you awake, you’ll be aroused thinking of what has happened here today. Thinking and remembering my voice, my body, even my name will arouse you. And you want to be aroused, so if you find yourself alone today or tomorrow, you’ll begin thinking of what happened today, and the very thought of it will pull your hand between your legs to the place where I touched. You will find the result of touching yourself to be even stronger than the pleasure you felt here today.”

I nodded.

“Now, it is time to wake. On the count of ten, I want you awake and alert, seeing me fully dressed.”

“One…still deeply hypnotized.”

“Two.”

“Three…starting to come out of the hypnotic state”

“Four”

“Five…halfway there.”

“Six.”

“Seven.”

“Eight,”

“Nine…ready to be wake up, alert and refreshed.”

“Ten…thoroughly de-hypnotized.”

I stretched and looked up at James.

“Are a few more questions okay?” I asked.

“Ask away, lass” he said.

“Where did you put your shirts, when you had them off?”

He smiled as if hoping I would ask that, “I never did.”

“Never did what,” I asked.

“Never took off a stitch of clothing”

I looked at him disbelievingly.

“And your hands? I felt them on my breasts and on my thighs at the same time…where were they really?”

“Both on your thighs,” he said, “The hands on your breasts were a figment of your own mind.”

“And the aphrodisiac you gave me? What was it?’

“I never gave you an aphrodisiac. I placed a sponge inside you, as a contraceptive measure. And be sure you take it out tonight.”

“Okay” I nodded.

We said our goodbyes and I took the carriage home. When I returned home that evening, it was hard to get a moment alone. Hugh pressed me with questions. I reassured him that Dr. Braid was a man of both science and faith, and that hypnotism was a natural process rather than one caused by unseen forces. I even told him that I had been hypnotized myself, though I left out the graphic description which I’ve included in this private diary. But of course you know, as I’m writing here, that I’ve found a moment to myself. I’ve learned much from James Braid. I learned that my shame, my joy and all the rest of my emotions are in my mind, changeable by my own mind. And I know that while my cousin was wrong about Braid, I still wish to remain a member of the church, not out of love for him nor out of shame for my rebellion against a mere man, but for my own soul and my need to understand the world…another need that James Braid and I have in common. And maybe, just maybe, I will learn auto-hypnotism as James did, so that I can keep myself as calm as him when my cousin next gets red in the face.