“There is a lone iron door… your hand reaches for the handle and pushes it open… The only thing in here… looks a bit like a human shaped coffin… fills you with a sense of morbid curiosity… inside is like nothing you have ever seen… plastered with this glistening pink substance… warm, moist, slimy tendrils poke out from the mass… pheromones like a sweet and savory nectar… embrace this creature of the Iron Maiden…”

Please listen to my voice, and commit what you hear to memory. (Full Transcript below.)

I am going to ask that you take a moment to relax your body and mind. Allow the rest of the world to slowly fade away, all of the sounds around you becoming distant until my voice is the only thing your mind can latch on to. It is as if you are floating in a vast ocean; the only ones here are you and me. Nothing else matters but my voice and the images that it can etch into your being.

Imagine now that your body is resting just below the surface, bubbles popping against your skin as the warm current carries you along. You are relaxed, at peace with yourself and the water around you. Your mind grows more hazy the more you float in this water, more susceptible to my words and their effects on your senses.

Allow the light of the sun to gradually disappear as the water pulls you deeper and deeper into its depths. The darkness is warm and soothing as it drains you of all thoughts and emotions. All that matters is my voice, which can shape your mind, your body, and your soul.

I want you to blink a few times for me. Each time you blink, you feel a light spasm flow from your neck down your spine. It radiates either side of your waist and hips, just a faint shiver every time you blink. The more you blink, the more you shiver, and the more you realize that you are completely under my voice’s control. Keep listening to my voice, and allow me to shape you again and again and again.

Just one more blink, and you find your body transported to a large stone room inside of a much larger castle. The air is cool and moist as it blows through the open window. When you gaze out upon the landscape, you see bathed in the moonlight those glassy waters which once carried you along. You recall fondly those gentle caress of the water on your skin, and it allows you to feel much calmer and safer among the stone walls in which you now find yourself.

There is a door which leads to a long hallway, the orange glow of torches flickering off the walls. You find yourself compelled to step into this hall and follow it deeper and deeper through the labyrinth that is the castle. With each step forward, the air seems to get even colder, your body shivering from the chill and perhaps a bit of anxiety at whatever may come.

You begin to lose your sense of place. It becomes impossible to tell left from right, up from down. You have become hopelessly lost, and that begins to cloud your judgment, lowering your mental barriers and making you even more susceptible to whatever lurks in the darkness.

Somehow you end up at the dead end of a branching path. There is a lone iron door, and with no real desire to backtrack, your hand reaches for the handle and pushes it open. This room is even smaller than the one you started in, with no windows to the outside. The only thing in here is a large and slightly unfamiliar object which piques your curiosity.

It looks a bit like a human shaped coffin, standing upright in the room’s center. It too is made of iron, and there is a latch on the left side with a small hole that a lock could potentially slide into. Perhaps this is a torture device of some kind? You believe it’s called an Iron Maiden but you aren’t completely sure. Whatever it is, it fills you with a sense of morbid curiosity, so you grab the latch and start to pry the contraption apart.

The inside is like nothing you have ever seen. From top to bottom, both sides are plastered with this glistening pink substance that looks almost like a jellyfish. Thousands of warm, moist, slimy tendrils poke out from the mass, each about the size of a finger. When you place your fingers against a feel of them, you can feel them coil and stick to your skin tightly, making it hard to pull your hand away.

When you do finally remove your hand, you can still feel the sticky pulsations and the hot slimy residue along your skin. When you smell it, taste it, you can sense your mind growing even more hazy, its pheromones like a sweet and savory nectar. There is a thought that if you were to embrace this creature of the Iron Maiden, there is a strong possibility that you might not come back out for a long time.

The options linger in your mind, until you finally realize that the consequences simply need not apply. Stripping until you are fully naked, you align your backside with the rear tendrils of the Iron Maiden. Slowly they begin to adhere to your skin, tenderly caressing your thighs, your butt, the small of your back and the back of your neck. Every sensation is heaven, and you realize it can only get better as the front lid of the Iron Maiden closes around you.

All light vanishes, no longer able to see around you. Instead, you focus on your other senses – the squelching sounds of the tendrils as they squirm in all directions. The smell and taste of the nectar which drips into your nose and mouth whilst covering every inch of your body’s surface. The nectar is so hot and so slippery that it overwhelms you, sending perverse spasms of arousal though your whole being.

Those frontal tendrils suck along your chest, your navel, your crotch, hands and feet. You can feel every inch of you being stimulated, endlessly so. It feels like you’re climaxing again and again and again, seemingly without limit as time itself loses all meaning. Nothing else matters except the sound and the smell, the taste and the touch. You have become a prisoner to your own senses moreso than to the whims of the Iron Maiden. That subtle realization is what triggers your most powerful waves of inhuman ecstasy.

And so you shall remain here, bound by these sensations the more you lose yourself to my voice’s commands. You shall commit these visualizations to memory until they are an integral part of your being. As you play this recording again and again, you will fall deeper and deeper each time, more and more connected to the images my voice has etched into your mind.

Even as this recording ends, allow the process to further sensitize your mind to the manipulation of memory, the implantation of subtle changes and effects which you can feel at the back of your subconscious throughout the day. Relax and accept these alterations as natural, as if they had been there all along. Relax… Relax… Embrace your new reality…

 

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