The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

BIANCA

Copyright by Trey Gallant and Rach

© 29 July 2002

All rights reserved. Do not copy or repost without the permission of both authors

This is a continuation of the account of a young man from England of his involvement with a hypno-Domme, who kept him financially and sexually enthralled from 1991 to 1998. He has previously recounted how he met this woman, how she mesmerised him, and brought him back to see her again. How she hypnotised him on this second occasion, and let him know that she intended to enslave him to her. He continues his story.

Bianca—3rd Session

by Rach

edited by Trey Gallant

After Charles Rach’s second visit, I took the liberty of contacting some persons I knew in the Metropolitan Police. Persons who owed me some favors for previous work I had done for them. I also got in touch with some individuals whom I knew on the other side of the Law. From both sets of informants I requested information about Bianca, or a prostitute who might have used that nick-name, or fit that description. My hopes of getting any information about a girl who had operated out of Shepards Market almost 10 years ago was slight, as these women come and go with depressing frequency. To my surprise, she, or someone very much like her, was remembered, although the name connected with the rumours was not always “Bianca.” Her ability to attract and hold regulars, in a notoriously fickle client base, was legendary, almost litteraly a myth. No one knew how she did it, and whispers of Black Magic and worse were vaguely attached to the stories. I was now even more interested in hearing the rest of Mr. Rach’s account.

On the following Thursday, as scheduled, Mr. Rach showed up at my office and was shown into my office. After a brief exchange of the social amenities, he recommenced his narrative:

I was beside myself with anxiety trying to keep away from Bianca, having paid for the first time. I was so disgusted with myself that for about 4 or 5 days that anger alone kept Bianca out of my thoughts so that I did not suffer the mind bending erections I had after the first visit. But when thoughts of Bianca did ‘break though’ into my mind, the teasing images and the way I responded to them was more vigorous than ever. The memories of first seeing her when she pulled me in off the street were still there, but now they were enhanced by my memories of that feeling of being squeezed between her breasts and the way she made me jerk across the room in response to her dance.

After a week, I was fighting a losing battle, but I managed to get past the ten day point before I found myself in a dreamlike state knocking on her door. As would often be the case, she was busy, but I was shown in by the maid, and 15 minutes later I was face to face with Bianca again. I had decided I was going to face her down, that ‘they’ were ‘only tits,’ and I must shake myself out of this stupid behavior. One thing I thought was very important was not to let my cock become exposed to her. There had been definitely a difference when she fixed it with her eyes, and I seemed to be a bit less vulnerable when I kept my pants on.

I took my anger out on Bianca, complaining about how much it was costing me, my sleepless nights, and how exhusted this was all making me. Foolishly, I said all this while seated on her bed. She sat beside me on the bed. She was very calm and sympathetic, and I guessed she had to deal with this sort of anger quite often.

“I don’t want to ruin you,” she said ...

“How generous of her!” I exclaimed ironically.

My client smiled sardonically, and continued...

“But,” she went on, “I am in business and you are now working for me, and you will meet your commitments to me.”

“The nerve of the woman!” I interjected. “I don’t recall your saying anything about you making any commitment to her. But one has to admire her sheer brass. She has turned your entirely justified complaint and righteous indignation into a strong suggestion that you will continue to comply with her suggestions.”

“Is that what she was doing, and how she did it?” Mr. Rach asked. “At the time, her statement confused me. ‘When,’ I thought to myself, ‘had I ever promised her my continued patronage?’ However, she gave me no time to ask, or even to think of asking, what she meant, but continued right on...

“Over the next few sessions you will tell me all I need to know so that we can plan things properly...you will tell me how much you earn, what savings you have, and what your expenses and commitments are....we can then decide what is really important...you will then willingly surrender any hobbies or activities which will seem unimportant compared to your obligation to me.”

I thought this was an outrageous thing for a hooker to say...

“It certainly was,” I agreed. “But for a predatory hypno-domme, it was just one more link in the chain of suggestions by which she was binding you to her service. What is outrageous here is that she was captivating unaware clients, converting them to submissive sex-slaves, all without prior informed consent. It was so unnecessary! She could have advertised what she did as a service, and had more clients lining up at her door than she could possibly handle!”

“She could have done so?” Rach exclaimed increduously. “I would not have thought anyone would have willingly paid to have done to them what she did to me.”

“You did,” I pointed out, perhaps a bit less tactful than I should have been.

“But not willingly!” he protested.

“No, not entirely of your own free will,” I soothed. “But we are getting off the track a bit. She had just told you that she wanted to discuss your finances with you, to determine how much you could afford to pay for her services, which you felt was an outrageous suggestion. And then?”

He sighed, collected his thoughts and resumed his tale.

As I said before, we were sitting on the edge of her bed, and I suppose something in my expression must have shown her how shocked and angered I was, for before I could say anything, she stood up over me and heaved her ‘weapons’ out again. “Time to take off your clothes, Charlie pet,” she said.

As you have pointed out, I now realise that this was her way of putting me under. Even then, I realised that Bianca very much had the upper hand when I was exposed to her view. I had decided to put an end to this ridiculous situation, so when she asked me to undress, I resisted, saying “You’re not getting my pants off. This is going to be my last time here!”

She replied, “No, you are going to take them off yourself.”

She went over to the bedside cabinet and picked up an object. It was a pendant made from a little wooden carving about 3 inches high. Standing in front of me, she swung it in front of my face. “Look at it, Charlie,” she suggested. “Watch it swing back and forth...back and forth...”

I knew what she was trying to do, and I looked away, but she bent forward, pulled my face into her soft bosom. My nose and mouth were completely sealed. I couldn’t breathe, or see, and when she freed me there was the pendant again, swinging before my eyes. This time I couldn’t seem to break my eyes away from it, and I heard her voice coming from above me, “That’s good, just relax and take a look at the little carving. It was handed down to me by my family in Jamaca and it has magical, voodoo powers.”

The carving was of a naked boy with an erection. It would have been an amusing thing for the mantelpiece, a souvenir of a Caribean holiday. But by now, my penis had responded to her shape and to her tits in my face, making my pants bulge such that she could clearly see my state. Slowly, Bianca lowered the swinging figure until it was about an inch above my bulge. She then changed the motion so that it made a circle, rotating around and around the little ‘hill’ in my pants.

I found this incredibly erotic and I gasped as my hips gave an involuntary twitch. I heard Bianca say,” “Mmmm, yes...powerful, isn’t it...never underestimate my voodoo, my pet, it is too strong for you...” There was a long silence as I looked in rapture at the movement of the figure which seemed to be isolating the area around my penis. It felt weird, as if that part of me was being cut out and taken away.... It is hard to explain.

Bianca’s voice came again from above me, “Your cock is feeling so hot, it must come out and let the figure brush against it...to cool it down.” I was panting for breath, and my erection was starting to burn. I had a clear vision of this thing being cool, and I had to let it help me. Her words came again, soft and low, “It’s coming out, Charlie...don’t try to resist it.” In a flurry my hands flew to my fly and opened my pants, and my cock bounced out like it was on a spring. Immediately Bianca whipped the pendant away, breaking my concentration on it. She then heaved her bust out and with her 50 inch HH cup of jutting bosom hovering above me, there was only one place I could look.

Now she had access to her ‘control stick’, and this time I found that I couldn’t refuse her suggestions. She had used another ‘way in’ through the routine with the pendant, and I was once again helpless. She asked for her money, a sum greater than last time. Weakened and dazed as I was, I still protested. She insisted. I paid her the money, and she demolished my erection, and I was that much deeper under her power.

We chatted afterwards as I dressed. She told me that she found the pendant handy, and used it quite a bit whenever the subject raised a strong objection.

As I was leaving I again brought up the matter of her increased fee. “You know, Bianca, if you continue to charge more than 50 pounds a visit, I really can’t afford to see you very often, if at all.”

“Well,” she said. “I guess you are just going to have to get work on the weekends to make some more money.”

“And that, my young friend,” I said, taking advantage of a pause in his narration, “Is where we shall have to leave off for the time being.”

As he gathered his things to depart, I asked, in feigned casualness, “Oh, by the way, you did say this woman had retired, and left London, did you not?”

“Yes,” he said, standing in the doorway. “I understand she is living in N_________, now.”

“Good,” I replied. “That is, it is good that you are removed from the temptation to continue to see her.” That is what I told him, but what I was thinking was ‘who do I know in that County, who could make some discreet inquiries for me.’ “Very well, then, until next time.”

“Until next time,” Charles Rach repeated, and then he left.

To Be Continued