Since this is about hypnotic fantasy, I'd like you to begin by imagining the fantasy of being hypnotized.

You're in a small room, and there's a *sound*.

There is nothing to see here.  Nothing to touch.  Nothing to hear, but the sound.

There's something about the sound.

It makes your eyes start to unfocus, after a while.

And that's all right.  There is nothing to see here, nothing to do, except listen, take a deep breath, and relax.

That's right.  You're not sure how you got here.  You're not sure where you are.  Some part of you might imagine that under other circumstances you could feel worried about this, but the very boring predictability of the sameness from moment to moment makes you feel safe, secure, comfortable.  It's almost like the sound itself is hugging you; as if the only sensation of touch here is the vibrations of the sound against your skin.  As if the only thing to do, here, now, is just listen, take a deep breath, and relax.

Good.

It's all right to take a few moments to let it seep inside you.  To feel as if there's a numbness spreading on the surface of your skin, a heavy fullness in the muscles of your limbs, as if you were beginning to be made of some other substance, solid and passive and immobile.  Because there's nothing to see here, nothing to do, except listen, take a deep breath, and relax.

Yes.

And with every breath, every moment, every thought that passes through your head and just as easily out again, it's easy to allow that experience to deepen and grow, now, moment by moment, breath by breath, thought by errant absent thought.  There's something absorbing about the experience of immobility, the sensation of the sound, the notion of being bound.  Covered.  Encased.

Wrapped up in the moment, now, as the sound wraps all around you.

And you might like to imagine you're wrapped in a hammock, rocking gently from side to side.  And it's easy to lie limp and loose, gently settling into the rocking.  The motion becomes the background against which you imagine the world, and you just close your eyes and go deeper inside, allowing the easy motion side to side to become a wrapper around your internal imagery, quietly stirring the shapes in your head as you listen, take a deep breath, and relax.

And you might like to imagine you're coated in plastic, thick warm liquid that slowly sets.  It hugs your whole body, lazily firming into a bulwark that you can rely on to keep you safe, protected, immobile, held.  Nothing can touch you here, nothing can reach you except the sound of my voice, as you listen, take a deep breath, and relax.

And you might like to imagine you're spun in a spiderweb, spinning as fibers appear on your skin.  Rolling like a snowball, coccooned in silk, thicker with every spin, as it gradually makes sight and sound fade into a distant memory.  And all around you is nothing but the web, and the sound, and the sound of my voice, in your deep trance, now, as you listen, take a deep breath, and relax.

Just like that.

This is the experience of being encased.  In webbing or rope, plastic or plaster, pallet wrap or wax or wood or stone.  Whatever material your mind finds most suitable, right now.  A second skin growing around you, holding you snugly, firmly, comfortably, comfortingly, touching you everywhere.

With every word I speak, from now until you awaken, this feeling will grow.

It grows gradually, or swiftly, as fast or as slow as your mind enjoys drawing out the experience of incrementally becoming enfolded, enwrapped, enwebbed, encased in the covering that's caressing you now.

It's all right.

Like an infinitely long and cozy hug, this wrapping only becomes more and more comforting as it grows, as it grows thicker, firmer, more immobile. As it draws your attention inside, deeper and deeper into trance.  Enjoying how the touch draws you into deep trance now, and even deeper.

It may be warm like a hot tub, spreading a delicious langour throughout your limbs, relaxing your muscles and softening your mind.  Or cool like lying under the air conditioner vent on a hot summer's day, soaking in the sensation with every part of your skin.

What does this material smell like?

With every word I speak, from now until you awaken, this feeling will grow.

It may grow like vines or the limbs of a tree, wrapping around your body with tiny tendrils.  Or pour like plaster, latex, wax, liquid concrete oozing about you to settle in place and set immobile.  It may be spun or wrapped, riveted or buckled or snapped, hammered in place or simply appearing, suddenly, while you weren't even paying attention to how thickly you've become encased now.

With every word I speak, from now until you awaken, this feeling will grow.

And now you can notice exactly what it is that you most appreciate or enjoy about being held this way.  What you're going to remember about how much you enjoy coming back, right here.

Right now.

And now you can notice that the material around you has set, as firmly as can be, right now.  Right here.  Motionless.  Inside.

Inside.

You can enjoy this feeling, inside.

And relax even more into the experience, now.

And now.

And now... know... that you will stay exactly like this, enjoying every aspect of this experience, only for exactly as long as your unconscious mind chooses for you to continue, here, now.  Until you are ready to awaken, in your own time, at your own pace, refreshed and rejuvenated by your relaxing rest.

As you listen, take a deep breath, and relax...

Now.