The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I was in my office on Thursday afternoon, when my receptionist called me on the intercom, “There is a young man, a Mr Charles Rach, to see you, sir.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith,” I replied. “How does the rest of the afternoon look for appointments?”

“There are none,” she informed me.

“Very good. Give me a minute to put away some files and show him in,” I instructed her.

Shortly, Mr. Rach entered my office. “Good afternoon, Dr. Bell,” he began. “Thank you so much for seeing me without an appointment. I spoke to you at our club a few days ago...”

“Yes, I recall it well,” I assured him. “I was hoping you would contact me. Won’t you have a seat?” I gestured to an armchair near one corner of my desk.

He sat down, and we exchanged the usual pleasantries. “I was looking forward to hearing more about your remarkable encounter with that woman in Shepherds Park,” I admitted, bringing the conversation around to the obvious purpose for his visit.

“That is what I wanted to talk to you about,” he replied, “though I hardly know where to begin, or to what purpose.”

“Are you seeking my help in breaking free of this woman’s domination,” I asked. “If so, I must tell you that it has been a while since I practiced counseling, and I am not sure that could be accomplished just by talking to me...”

“No, she ended our relationship and retired to N—, about a year ago. I just wanted to talk to someone who could help me get straight in my own mind what happened to me.”

Inwardly, I breathed a sigh of relief. Had he requested my assistance to escape Bianca’s clutches, I would have felt honor-bound to comply. But that would have involved calling on the help of some rather rough customers I knew. Or perhaps some civilized but even more ruthless colleagues. I had heard that my old friend Leonard Harker had expanded his field of operations to include vampires of the financial as well as the sanguinary sort, but I was loathe to use his methods even on such as this sexual predator seemed to be.

“Then what is it I can do for you? I tell you straight out, there were times during your recounting of how you met her that you seemed to enjoy the reminiscing. From what you told me, what she did was predatory and exploitative, yet you did not sound as if you blamed her, nor wished to hold her accountable.” I eyed him speculatively. “There is some ambivalence here.”

He had the grace to look uneasy. “Our relationship was ... complicated ...”

“Not at the point where you left off the story the last time,” I reminded him. “Why don’t you take it up there and explain how it got complex as you tell the tale?”

“Very well, " he said and launched into his narrative:

After that first visit to her, I felt OK for a few days, although I was ashamed and embarassed about what had happened. But after three or four days, I found I couldn’t get this woman and her huge tits out of my mind. My erections were intrusive and impossible to control. At the weekend, I went home (London was not, and still is not home to me) to see my girlfriend, Sally, who was still a student. We had been together for a couple of years, but for some reason we just couldn’t get it together that weekend. It was so annoying that whenever I was alone, thoughts of Bianca would come flooding back into my head and bring me up so stiff it made me gasp, yet when I was with my Sally nothing happened. Suddenly she seemed just like a boy to me, and although I still wanted to be with her, I just didn’t seem to be able to respond to her.

“This is not uncommon,” I assured him. " Part of it was the interference with your usual sexual feelings by the new and powerful sensual experience with Bianca, part of it was guilt at having been “unfaithful”, part of it was anxiety when your normal responses did not occur. I cannot tell from the information you have given me so far if Bianca had placed any suggestions at this time which directly affected your ability to become aroused by your girlfriend, although I suspect she will prove to have done so later in your relationship.”

“I do not recall any such suggestions from that first meeting, but later....” Rach mused. “Be that as it may...” he continued with his story:

After I returned to London, the erections became more and more frequent and persistent, day by day, keeping me awake at night, making me irritable. No amount of ‘hand shuffling’ seemed to work! That is, it worked, but the relief was only temporary. Very temporary! I couldn’t believe how fast I was recovering each time, and after a while my cock and balls felt as if they didn’t belong to me at all.

My compulsion to return to Bianca was overwhelming, and my efforts to resist that compulsion resulted in sleepless nights and a feeling of complete exhaustion. I felt as if I was carrying a heavy load, trying to swim against the tide with this physical and mental burden. Why should I try to go against what seemed more and more like the ‘natural flow?’ My whole body began to feel nothing more than a cock and balls with legs, while the images of Bianca and the words she spoke to me filled my head.

“I have experienced the seemingly impossible increase in virility and sexual energy which results from hypnotic eroticism,” I told him. “So I can believe your story, and appreciate how you felt. The feeling of dissociation from part of your own body is one of the affects that Ericksonian methods of hypnosis are known to produce. I would ask you if Bianca had suggested any such feeling directly or indirectly, such as telling you something to the effect that “your cock is mine now”, or whether it was the result of the Ericksonian induction she used. Erickson once said, “the unconscious has many foci of attention, and when you withdraw that from any part of the body,” which in the case of Bianca, she did by drawing your whole attention to her bosom, “you don’t destroy the subject’s intellectual, conscious comprehension of that part, but it becomes an object (i.e. not experienced as part of one’s self) because the unconscious foci of attention are withdrawn.” Withdrawn in your case from your physical responses and focused on Bianca, until she directed your attention back to them. And when she directed your attention back to your body’s physical responses, she took full credit for them. Thus, it wasn’t your response to her verbal and non-verbal sexual suggestions, but the result of her suggestions.” I could not tell if my explanation led to any enlightenment on my young friend’s part, so I signalled him to proceed.

Little more than a week after vowing never to go back to her, I found myself making my way to Shepherd’s Park once more. It was such an easy thing to do after work because it was my normal way home, it seemed the natural thing to do. My mental state had changed. I no longer asked myself disgustedly, “Why was I so stupid as to be drawn in by her last week?” Now my only thought was, “getting along to see Bianca again is my top priority.” In sort of a mental haze, my feet carried me back to her door. A maid answered the door, and asked me to wait in the front room as Bianca was busy with another client. When the other client was done, the maid showed me into a bedroom, told me to wait, and closed the door. Fifteen minutes later, I was fed up with waiting, and a fair bit angry, when Bianca walked in.

She seemed really pleased to see me...

“She was glad, and perhaps a little surprised,” I interrupted, " to see that her suggestions had worked.”

“I don’t think so,” he responded thoughtfully. “At least...

She said “I have been expecting you to turn up, but I am surprised and impressed that you held back for so long.” She went on, “I can guess what you’ve been going through, but there is no point in trying to fight it.”

“I tried,” I told her. “I was weak.”

“You did well, considering your age and experience, to hold out for so long. Most guys last about a week before it gets too much for them,” she laughed. “They tell me it feels like your bone and balls are harnessed up to a team of horses!”

She explained ...

“I hope you realize by now,” I interrupted again, “that her “explanations” were actually indirect suggestions for you to act in certain ways.”

“I am beginning to see that,” he admitted. “However, at the time, my behavior seemed inexplicable to me, and I was inclined to take her at her word. What did I know? So when she said...

“Size really does matter, you know. An outrageously big bust equals uncontrollable erections. You are just responding as nature intended. It was inevitable that your cock would drag you back to me,” she said. “You are like a fish hooked on a line, you can swim around for a bit but you will eventually get worn out and I will reel you back in.”

She was right; it did feel like my cock was physically linked to her somehow. Being close to her again made me shake with nerves. I moved back towards the door. Bianca smiled and started to perform her little trick of running her hands over her bust and rolling her hips around. That stopped me in my tracks. The best I could do was to hold my ground and stare at her display, until the rhythm of her hips had my erection pulsating in time to her movements. She was patient, letting the pressure build up gradually before beckoning to me. I was so tense ... and now I can’t remember if I had that thought, or if she said something to that effect. Whichever it was, more than anything her sexual magnetism drew me to her. I felt a magical thrill as she drew me towards her, now murmuring words of encouragement, now drawing me with gestures alone, giving a sigh of satisfaction as I moved towards her. I had no idea that this was a hypnotic induction, but there was more to come.

We stood facing each other, me 5′7″ tall, Bianca almost 6′ in her high heels. It was impossible to avoid looking into her wonderful cleavage. She removed her body hugging top and dropped the shoulder straps of her bra. She laughed, and began pushing her giant boobs together, in and out with a steady rhythm that had me concentrating on her cleavage. All my instincts compelled me to do so as she began to roll her breasts from side to side in the white lacy material. I was quickly a lost man: the deep deep cleft between her breasts; her silken voice; the rhythm of those rolling breasts. She was speaking, but I can’t remember all her words...

“You have been thinking about me, Charlie, about this big bust.”

“Yes,” I mumbled in reply.

“And your cock has been so stiff, coming up more often each day...each day staying stiff for longer and longer.”

“Yes.”

“You managed to avoid masturbating for about 3 or 4 days, Charlie, am I right? Then you succumbed to temptation, didn’t you? Taking a sneaky wank to relieve the pressure?”

“Yes.”

“But you pride yourself in being strong, in not spilling your seed, in not giving into the pleasure. Wanking is for boys, isn’t it, Charlie, not strong men who want to save their energy for their wives or girlfriends...but now you know what stiffness really is, now you know what a big bust like this can do to you...the pressure you were under...it’s understandable...you couldn’t help it....But after a week of tossing off for me, Charlie, you decided to fight it, didn’t you...to prove to yourself you were not a boy...not a helpless masturbater...that was good...you must learn to control it, not to waste it all...you must save it for me...bring it back to me, Charlie, and show me how strong you are...I will help you...do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Hmmm. No subtlety this time, no Ericksonian indirect suggestions,” I commented. “She directly used her cleavage as a fascination device, visually attracting and holding your attention and distracting you from critically considering her suggestions.”

“Perhaps you are right,” he admitted. He continued...

Bianca spent a lot of time with me, doing this. She said a lot more that I don’t remember, but I do remember that stuff about controlling my wanking. She also asked me how much money I had on me. Then she told me that this session would cost 50 Pounds.

I was in such a trance that I handed over the 50 Pounds, when the going rate in those days was only 30. It was a lot of money for me back then, considering I earned only about 750 a month at the time, and I tried to object about the expense, but Bianca soon made it clear that relief between her boobs was the most important thing, and that holding back payment just made things harder for me.

When I had given her the money, Bianca pulled my head onto her bust, burying my face in her cleavage, and sealing off my airways. She used the tops of her arms to push her breasts together while her hands worked my belt. I flapped my hands weakly in an attempt to stop her, but my pants quickly dropped to the floor. She eased me back gently onto the bed, so that the ‘wigwam’ in my boxer shorts pointed up at her. She let her giant orbs come tumbling out of her bra as she bent over me, swinging them over my bulge and letting them brush around it. At first I was afraid she would make me come in my pants, but she released my cock from my shorts. Then she knelt by the bed, and for the first time wrapped her big soft breasts around my member. The feeling was electric! She smiled as I propped myself up on my arms and stared at the view. I must have looked funny there...wild-eyed and gasping as my cock disappeared completely into her cleavage. She wasn’t really putting much pressure on my erection; she was toying with me as she just rolled her bust around it loosely, tossing it about as I “oohed and ahhhed”. She kept me on the edge of orgasm for about 30 seconds, chuckling to herself, and then all of a sudden she PUSHED her breasts together with her hands, and I felt the vice-like grip of her cleavage. Her eyes were wide, staring at me as she said “Cummmmm!"..., and for the first time I emptied my load into her cleavage.

“She used the technique we call over in my country “the breast massage.” I commented. “It is a very sensual feeling, with all kinds of additional erotic and fetishistic overtones and connotations. The pleasure and the orgasm were your reward for complying with her suggestions, and a positive reinforcement for the idea of returning to her in thought and eventually in person.”

“I can grasp that idea, now,” he said, a tremor of strong emotion going down his back from the recollection of that day. “But at the time I was totally confused. Nothing like this had ever happened to me. I had never met anyone who could make me feel that way. I don’t even remember how I got out of there. It seems to me that the moment after I came, there is a blank, and then I was back in my flat.”

“Well, I think we have covered all we can today,” I told him. “I want you to come back and see me in a week. Mrs. Smith will give you an appointment. In the meanwhile, I want you to try and remember what happened between the moment you climaxed, and when you found yourself back home.” And I, I thought to myself, will do some checking of my own on your story.

“Very well, Dr. Bell,” Mr. Rach said as he stood up. “I will see you next week then.”