The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Dr. George was mysterious about where we were going. “To the bank,” was all he said at first, but he was driving us down the freeway, miles from town, deep into the next county. It seemed an odd way to spend a rare afternoon away from the clinic.

“Any particular bank?” I asked.

“More like a particular banker,” he said, laughing. “I’ve heard good things about her.”

“You already have a good bank, and a good banker, and they’re just down the street from the office.”

“One advantage of this banker is that she has no idea who we are or where we’re from. ”

After a silent couple miles, I spoke up: “Tell me more.”

“I found her on that Tumblr thread, where people consent to covert hypnosis. She seemed highly suggestible, and I managed to make contact with her subconscious. The arrangements have been made.”

After a couple more miles, I said, “I suppose she’s super pretty.”

“Who knows? Her mind is wide open. That’s all that matters.”

Thirty minutes later, we barged into the windowless back office of someone named Danielle. Dr. George was right; she had no idea who we were, and in fact seemed unhappy to have her spreadsheet work interrupted. Dr. George had quick-talked a teller into sending us down the hall without alerting her first.

“Yes, may I help you?” she asked, a professional smile not fully masking her clear annoyance.

“Hello, yes, you can,” he said. “I need to open a new business account, or maybe two, and I have a few questions about my situation.”

He held her eye as he pulled out a chair and sat down. I quietly sat off to one side; she barely glanced at me.

“Of course. What can I help you with?”

“I’m a hypnotist,” he said, looking steadily at her.

“That’s interesting,” she replied automatically, without a flicker of recognition. He must have switched off her actual interest in the topic, to make the encounter more challenging.

“I do both stage hypnosis and hypnotherapy,” he continued, reaching into his blazer and pulling out a fat watch on a long chain. “Do you know anything about hypnosis?”

“You’re talking about stage shows, where people go up and are made to do funny things?”

“Yes, but also hypnotherapy, helping people address their internal conflicts and needs.” He was letting the watch dangle, letting it spin slightly. As soon as she glanced at it, he resumed.

“The old swinging watch really is part of the craft,” he said.

“That’s interesting,” she said again, still not meaning it.

“Here, let me show you how it works,” he said.

Her brow wrinkled. “OK, but didn’t we have some business to—”

“Yes, but I think this will help you understand both sides of my business,” he said quickly, as the watch began to arc left and right.

“It’s a nice watch,” she said. She was just humoring him.

“It captures the light really well, you see.” The overhead lamp reflected off its polished facets, sending flashes in all directions. Her eyes tracked the back-and-forth motion as she spoke.

“So is this something you use with clients?” Her head was steady but her eyes swung rhythmically.

Back and forth.

“Yes, my clients appreciate having their issues resolved—personal issues, social issues, professional issues—by my exploring inside their minds.”

She was thinking, or trying to.

Back and forth.

“This is about half my business,” he said, filling the pause.

“So you ... use this ... as a ... focal point?”

She was no longer addressing her questions to him, but to the watch.

Back and forth.

“Yes, it keeps their eyes very busy, very busy,” he said. “As the eyes move back and forth, it keeps that part of the mind occupied, so the rest of the mind is free to follow my words.”

Back and forth.

She pulled her eyes to the side, turned back to the watch, turned away, turned back, trying to remember what she was supposed to say next.

Back and forth.

She looked like someone who normally controlled these discussions and got quickly to the paperwork. Not this time, Danielle.

“After a while the eyes get tired of watching, and become heavy, and eventually close,” Dr. George said.

Her head tilted slightly and her eyes locked once more on the watch. She appeared to be fascinated with the shiny pendulum despite herself.

Back and forth.

“They find their thoughts getting wrapped up in the watch and being pulled right out of their minds.”

Now she was closing her eyes from time to time, to give them a break. But even with her eyes closed, her head was rocking slightly, in time with the watch’s rhythmic, relentless motion.

Her words just would not come. She swallowed. She straightened her back. She opened her eyes, forced her eyebrows up, and tried to look alert.

Back and forth.

“OK, so, um, tell me a little bit about your business. For instance ... what’s ... your net revenue in any given year?”

“So, I have two different businesses, working with ...”

His words were so smooth that they plainly slid right through her mind without registering. And his phrases swung in time with his watch, pulling her in deeper.

“... on the road frequently, with my stage shows ...”

She wasn’t tracking this. She shook her head. Annoyed, she straightened her head again.

“... whenever the opportunity arises ...”

She nodded as though she was absorbing the information.

“Do you ... do you ... you keep those income streams separate?”

“... grew very rapidly and now I realize ...”

His voice was so deep, so silky, so slippery. Whenever he spoke, her gaze was pulled back toward his watch.

“... biggest concern has to do with cash flow ...”

She blinked rapidly, as though trying to clear the fog. Her forehead was no longer furrowed, in fact now was entirely relaxed. Her mouth was most unprofessionally slack.

“... and whether I can mingle those funds and whether I need separate accounts ...”

She briefly rallied at a reference to something she probably knew by heart.

“Well, certainly, um ...” as she shook her head. “Excuse me. ... It’s an important consideration, but ...” She glanced back at the watch and was lost.

“My watch is pretty fascinating, isn’t it? If you’d like to focus just on that for a moment, we can come back later to the conversation.”

She looked so relieved that she was no longer required to think. She could stare openly.

“Let it swing back and forth. Let your mind wrap around it. It’s so much easier that way.”

Her head tipped farther.

“Just let your thoughts get pulled out, pulled out, pulled out ...

“That’s it ...

“It’s just so easy to just let go, just let go, let go ...”

Her eyes rolled upward and she sighed.

“You always wanted to just let go like that ...

“There you go ...

“There you go ...

“There you go ...

“Gone.”

He let the watch fall to the desk with a loud clatter. She responded not at all. Her eyes were now fixed on the far wall beyond us, or maybe a few hundred feet farther than that. Her facial muscles were limp, her mouth hung slightly open. He waved his hand in front of her eyes just to be sure. Nothing.

“And now the fun begins,” he whispered, loudly enough for me to hear.

I caught his drift. I got up to close her office door. Then I stood behind him, reached around his waist, undid his belt, freed his cock, and started stroking it lightly.

“Hello again, Subconscious,” he said to Danielle’s blank face. “My instructions are simple.”

... and 3 and 4 and 5.”

Danielle bobbed back into conscious awareness. Her eyes focused on Dr. George, then widened. Her mouth closed. She sat very still while she assessed her surroundings. I’m sure I looked just like that in college, whenever I drifted away during a lecture.

“So how would you recommend that I structure my finances?” he asked.

As far as Danielle could tell, she’d been away just a few seconds and he hadn’t even noticed. She didn’t register at all that I had both arms around his waist now and was teasingly squeezing his exposed balls and hard cock. I wasn’t certain what I was preparing him for, but I like to be useful.

“Well, first I need to ask whether you are operating as a sole proprietorship or perhaps as an LLC. And you need to make sure you’re operating under separate tax ID numbers as well.”

As she warmed to her topic, she pushed back from the desk a bit and let her maroon suit jacket fall open, revealing a black blouse with a hint of cleavage.

“So two separate accounts, bare minimum,” she said. “And an audit trail is really important to track movement between the accounts.”

Her hands were on the desk demonstrating cash flow, but then they moved up to her chest and started massaging her breasts.

“You’re always thinking, what if the IRS were looking at my boobs,” she said. “I mean books. Books.”

“As far as the checking accounts, we can go into more detail on that ...” Her left hand reached up and pressed against her left breast, sliding back and forth. “But I have a question for you about the transactional volume, how many deposits and electronic transfers you’ll be making each month.” With her right hand, she reached into her blouse and stroked her bare chest above her right breast. Her eyes closed as she leaned back and smiled to herself. Her blouse pulled up a bit and exposed a pale roll of belly flesh above her waistband.

“I’ll be making lots of deposits, at least twice a week, with the revenue stream off my performances,” he said.

Both her hands now dove into her bra and started playing with her nipples. Her eyes opened and stayed on him. Her mind and body were operating on two different planes.

“Now, your personal clients, how are they paying?” she asked.

“Most of them pay privately by check,” he said. “Their insurance won’t touch this.”

“Touch what?”

“A frequent client complaint is that they’re having difficulty with orgasm.”

“I beg your pardon?” Danielle asked quickly.

“Difficulty with orgasm. Do you find it difficult to achieve orgasm?”

“Me? Never,” she said.

“Show me.”

“Of course.”

Danielle’s fingers tightened on her nipples, still hidden inside her bra. She was gripping hard, pinching, twisting viciously. That’s all it took; after 10 seconds of this she gasped, squealed and came. She pulled her hands out and gripped the edge of the desk for a few seconds.

She recovered quickly, as though it had not happened at all.

“Do you have more questions for me?” she asked.

“Can you show me both your breasts, please?”

“Sure thing.” She hoisted them out. “And what kind of overhead do you incur?”

As he discussed office costs, she casually picked up his watch, wrapped the chain around her left breast and tightened it.

Dr. George was much harder in my hands now. To remind him of my presence, I may have squeezed his balls a little tighter.

“We’re going to need to discuss a line of credit,” she said, clearly convinced that she could offer him all her services. “We’ll need two years of tax records,” she added as she dragged the metal chain across her skin. “And, I do have a template of a business plan if you might have any blind spots.”

“That all makes sense,” he replied. “For now, let’s have you push your breasts together.”

“Like this?”

“Perfect,” he said, pulling away from my hands and stepping around to her side of the desk. She stepped up from her chair, leaned back and found an angle that suited him.

“That’s perfect,” he said again, his hands gripping her shoulders as he pistoned his cock along her breastbone and between her cushiony boobs.

She was still rambling on about interest rates when he splashed cum all over her neck.

He turned to me. “Would you clean us up, please?”

I went to work with my tongue and then some tissues. I wondered briefly, as I often do, why it arouses me so much to support his escapades, but I didn’t dwell on the thought.

“I’ve taken too much of your time,” Dr. George said to Danielle as he zipped up. “Let me give some thought to what we’ve discussed, and I’ll make another appointment soon.” He took a business card from the desk.

“Oh, I’d be happy to help,” she said.

He picked up his watch, and tucked it into one of his pants pockets.

Danielle pointed in that direction.

“That’s a fine piece,” she said.