The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Holding Ken’s hand tightly, Sheila swung him into the sitting room, firmly shut the door, and leaned her back up against it. She reached up, took his face in her hands and kissed him firmly on the lips.

“Wow, what was that for?” he asked gasping for breath.

“Because I felt like it,” she said coyly.

“Oh really.”

“Yes, and because I want to thank you for being there just now. Things were getting pretty intense and I sensed you were supporting me through it.”

“I was, and you’re welcome.”

“There’s another thing too,” she said hesitating slightly. “I was wondering if you’d do something for me.” Then she quickly added, “Now don’t feel obligated. You can say ‘no’ if you want to.”

“Whoa. Hold on a minute. You haven’t told me what you want and you’re already expecting me to refuse. What’s this all about?”

Looking him straight in the eye she said, “Let me practice on you.”

“Practice what?” Then realizing what she wanted, “You mean this hypnosis stuff? You want to use me as a guinea pig?”

“Don’t put it like that, Ken,” she said offended. “I just want you to help me practice my technique. Bea told me I should find my own subjects and I want you to be the first.” He hesitated briefly.

“Can I think about this for a minute. I know you don’t know me that well, but I’m a person who hates to give up control—no matter what the situation is. To me this seems like the ultimate surrender.”

“Well you’re wrong Dr. Rose,” she said emphatically. “You’ll be in complete control the whole time. There isn’t anything that I could make you do under hypnosis that you wouldn’t do wide awake.”

He seemed surprised. She continued. “There’s no such thing as surrendering your will here. You’ll be completely aware of everything that’s going on the whole time. Don’t you trust me, Ken?”

“Sure I trust you, Sheila. It’s just that I have a hard time believing that I’d be in full control.” She could see he wasn’t convinced. “Believe me Ken, you’d be completely safe the whole time. And you’ll be helping me get the practical experience I need. I’d be very grateful, you know?” She let her eyelids flutter ever-so-slightly. “Come on, what do you say?”

After pausing a few more moments, he finally blurted out “Oh, what the heck. When do we start?”

“As soon as you’re ready.” “I guess this is as good a time as any,” he said, starting to feel a little better now that he had agreed.

“Good,” she replied standing up. She positioned the recliner facing the fireplace and asked him to sit down. Then she lit a candle and placed it on the mantle. Ken regarded this in silence, wondering what he had gotten himself into. He hated the idea of losing control. That’s why he had always refused to do drugs and only rarely drank alcohol. Now he was giving someone he barely knew, a blank check with his mind.

“You won’t make me do anything stupid, will you?” he asked abruptly.

“No silly. This isn’t a vaudeville act and I’m not interested in stunts like that. This is serious stuff and I’m serious about it. I have to see if I can do it.” Then she cooed softly, “That’s not so terrible is it?”

“I guess not,” he replied. “I’m sorry for acting like a baby, but I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m not the volunteering type.”

“Then I appreciate your courage. And I promise that I won’t embarrass you.”

Gripping the armrests tightly he said, “All right, what should I do now?”

Sheila walked over to the sofa, just a couple feet from him and sat down on the edge. Her voice assumed a soft melodic quality and she reassured him that he was in a very safe place here and nothing there would change that. She leaned over and pushed on the recliner’s headrest, easing him into a more supine position.

“Now first I want you to stare at the candle,” she said softly. The small flame flickered a couple feet above his eye level. Looking up at it, he could feel the strain. Next she had him think about restful, relaxing scene. Obediently he tried to do so, but every time he chose one, a gnawing anxiety distracted him. A voice in the back of his head repeatedly urged him to resist her suggestions, warning him that if he gave in to her, she would have complete control over him. But Sheila’s voice was soothing and watching the candle irritated his eyes. The recliner felt soft and comfortable. His body sank lightly into it.

What possible harm could this be, he finally concluded. After all, it was Sheila doing this to him, not some stranger he didn’t know.

“Good,” she said, noticing his concentration. “Just ignore all those distractions bouncing around in your head and concentrate on my voice. Listen carefully and ease into a deep state of relaxation as you rest in your special place.”

She knows exactly what I’m thinking, he noted, which was fine with him. This way he didn’t have to bother explaining things. He was too engrossed in what he was feeling to do anything so strenuous as that just now.

Systematically she had him focus on the large muscle groups in his body, having him consciously tense and relax each in turn. Slowly his body began to feel like a hunk of lead. With his eyes bleary from the strain and his lids drooping, he was ready to drop off. Suddenly that little voice broke through his concentration again, piercing his subconscious like a lighthouse beacon slicing the fog.

“Fight back!” it shouted to him in a tiny voice, weak but perceptible. “Don’t give in! Don’t let her do this to you! If you do you’ll be sorry!”

But it was too late. Slowly his legs slowly rotated outward on the footrest, like dead weights, inert. His eyelids fluttered, straining with the effort to stay open.

“And while this total relaxation washes over your body notice how tired you are,” he heard her saying. “Staring into the bright candle’s glare is so irritating that your eyelids flutter; slowly at first, then more rapidly Finally you can’t resist the temptation to close them any longer.” Why don’t I just close my eyes and rest them a while? he thought. I have been working pretty hard lately and I do deserve the rest. He readily succumbed to her suggestion and slowly closed his eyes. It felt good. He knew he was in a warm, safe place.

Sheila started counting backwards, very slowly, from five to one. She told him to listen carefully and with each step he sank deeper and deeper asleep. Losing all awareness of his surroundings he simply sat there calmly listening for the sound of her voice, anticipating the numbers and awaiting her instructions.

Soon he felt his head tipping slightly to the side just like Mr.Shanosky’s had. He imagined how flat and expressionless his face must look. By now her voice totally filled his perception and he gulped down each syllable as if digesting them. The only thing in his world now was this calm, soothing female voice telling him how he was more relaxed than he had ever been before. And on some muffled, buried level he agreed with her, thinking how obvious it was that she would say this. When Sheila reached ‘one’ it was as if a warm, soundproof blanket had been wrapped around him and within it he slept securely.

Ken hadn’t moved for several minutes, not a twitch from the time she had started the countdown. Satisfied, she stood up, blew out the candle and opened the curtains so that the late afternoon light could pour into the room.

I did it! she thought proudly. I really did it. I wonder what I can make him do. She considered this for a while.

“Ken,” she finally began. His head turned toward her. “I want you to concentrate all your attention on your right arm. Imagine it becoming very light and airy. That’s it, let all the weight ooze out of it so that’s it’s as light as a feather. See how weightless it is. See how it rises slowly into the air.”

As per he instructions he straightened out his arm. Then, as if it were attached to a helium balloon, it began to elevate and in a few seconds it was hanging suspended high above him. Ken stared at the wayward limb, a dumbfounded expression on his face. Then he appeared alarmed. A part of his body was hanging there, involuntarily waving at him from above his head.

“Don’t try to bring it down because you can’t you can’t,” she cautioned. “No matter how hard you try you won’t be able to lower your arm.”

And to his amazement, she was right. Desperately, he tried to recover his independent appendage. He tugged and yanked, puling with all his might, but no matter how hard he worked at it, his arm remained suspended there in the air—until she told him he could release it.

“You may lower it now,” was all she said. As if by magic, Ken found his arm floating back to the armrest. He seemed flabbergasted and horrified. He had listened to what she had told him, and, even though he tried to resist, part of his body seemed possessed by a mind of its own.

Sheila was thrilled. Her initial success made her all tingly inside. Wondering what else he would do for her, she offered him a glass of water, informing him that it was ammonia and placing it under his nose. Abruptly his nostrils flared as he reflexively jerked his head back. Next she handed him a pencil and told him it was a fragrant rose on a thorny stem. Gingerly he took it from her, held it to his nose, and inhaled deeply. Lastly, she held his hand, walked him slowly around the room, while telling him that they were strolling through the woods. At one point she suggested that they had reached to a small stream. He promptly took off his shoes and socks to keep them from getting them wet. On the ‘other side’ he took the imaginary towel she handed him and dried off his feet.

As each test was successfully completed her sense of power grew. He followed her instructions precisely. He really was an excellent subject. And as Ken bent to her bidding she thought of her father and how he used to control his dogs with the blow of a whistle or the flick of his hand. People may easier to train than canines, she concluded almost gleefully.

But what good were these silly parlour tricks, she wondered. She was more interested in tangible results, in finding a way to control him after he was awake and not under her direct influence. She realized that a post-hypnotic suggestion was appropriate at this juncture.

“Now Ken,” she began, “I want you to listen to me very carefully. Just like everyone else, I’m sure you get headaches. Usually they seem to occur at random. But, from now on, their appearance will be much more predictable. From now on when you hear me say the word ‘tension’, an annoying pounding will begin in your forehead and temples. Initially it will seem mild, but when I repeat the word ‘tension’ the headache will intensify and become much more painful. Eventually it will become unbearable. Do you understand?” He looked a little confused but nodded.

“Excellent,” she continued. “And whenever you get one of those nasty headaches, the only thing that will relieve them is if I place my hands on your forehead and temples and gently massage your scalp like this.” She showed him. “This will make your headache melt away.”

With her little ‘time bomb’ was in place, she felt that it was time to lighten the trance. First she told him that his hypnotic experience would leave him feeling relaxed and invigorated. He was to forget everything they did together except the part about what could cause his headaches and about her unique ability to relieve them. Finally she started counting forward from one to five, just like Dr.Caulfield had done with Mr. Shanosky, gradually familiarizing him with the room its contents, its sounds and odors. When she reached the number five, he opened his eyes.

He looked confused, glancing around curiously. But the objects in the room were familiar and soon he settled comfortably in the recliner. Looking over at Sheila he gave her a big smile.

“That was wonderful. You really did it to me, didn’t you? I feel great.”

“I knew you would. And didn’t I tell you it was harmless?” she asked.

“Well, it seemed that way,” he replied the panic of the initial induction long forgotten. Then he glanced at his watch and whistled. “Where did all the time go? What was I doing for so long?”

“Oh nothing special. Just a few simple tests to make sure you were under. You’re a very good subject, Ken. Did you know that?”

“I had no idea.”

“And you don’t remember any of it?”

“Nothing after you started the countdown,” he replied shaking his head in amazement. She chuckled with delight.

Standing up and opening her arms to him she said, “I’ll always remember how you helped me out today, Ken. Come over here and I’ll show you how much I appreciate it.” He slipped into her embrace and they kissed tenderly. Once again that familiar stirring in his groin began. But now it seemed like more than lust. He sensed a new bond between them now, some intangible cord that linked them inseparably together.

“I can’t believe how fast the day has flown by,” he commented as he gathered up his stuff. “It’s almost four o’clock and I haven’t been home since last night.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not really, except that there’s this conference on Monday which I have to present a talk at and I haven’t started working on it yet. I know I’ll need more than just tomorrow to get it together.”

“Oh,” she said sounding disappointed. “I guess I’ll have to let you go then. This has been quite a first date, hasn’t it? I hope I didn’t keep you too long.”

“Not at all,” he replied wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “This ranks up there with the most exciting days of my life. I can’t believe how much I love being with you. If I didn’t have this darn presentation to organize, I’d stay another night. You understand don’t you?”

“Of course I do silly,” she said snuggling her head against his chest. “Far be it for me to go and create extra ‘tension’ in your life.”

He began to grin but suddenly stopped, arrested by a stabbing pain that flashed in his head starting somewhere behind his eyes and quickly fanning out in a band across his forehead. Reflexively he reached up and rubbed his temples. She saw the pained expression on his face and asked what was wrong.

“I’m not sure,” he replied. “I just got this shooting pain behind my eyes and now I have a splitting headache. This is really strange. I rarely get headaches.”

“That’s terrible,” she cooed sympathetically. “Maybe it’s your sinuses,”

“Maybe,” he replied still rubbing his forehead. “All I know is this pain is a bitch.”

“Here, let’s see if I can help.” She walked around behind him and gently placed her fingertips on his temples, massaging his scalp with a steady rotating motion.

“Ummm, that feels great.” He moaned with pleasure. Sheila you’re amazing. The pain is melting away. How’d you do that?”

“Do what?” she asked innocently. “Oh that. It was nothing really. I guess I have the touch, that’s all.”

“You sure do. Thanks.”

They walked to the front door. And as he stood there next to her, for some unearthly reason, a certain sense of uneasiness gripped him. Suddenly their last twenty-two hours together in this little farmhouse in Zelienople, felt strange to him, almost weird and unreal. On some deep, repressed level he had this notion that he had been violated in some way, tainted, almost contaminated. It was eerie and disquieting and he was at a loss to explain it. Confused, he let it pass.

Instead he said, “Be sure to tell Dr. Caulfield how much I appreciate her hospitality.” Then he tweaked her nose. “And as for you, young lady, I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other, and pretty soon, too. I won’t be on call next week-end. Maybe I can play host this time.”

“That sounds perfect,” she replied kissing him tenderly.

“I’ll call you soon. It was great.” From his car he waved at her. She watched him drive away. Then walking slowly toward the back of the house, a grin full of proud satisfaction filled her face.

He was perfect, she realized.

And with that realization, she knew that everything else she wanted was possible.