The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Britany Cashmere stood in front of a full-length mirror mounted on the wall of the huge master bedroom she shared with her husband Luke, admiring her appearance.

She was trying on a collection of a dozen new, extremely expensive designer dresses that had been delivered to her sprawling Atlanta estate that morning.

A very pretty woman of thirty-three, Britany was five-ten with long platinum-blonde hair and baby blue eyes; a former NBA cheerleader, she was slender and fit, with very large surgically-enhanced breasts, fair skin and long sexy legs. She was currently wearing a short, sexy silver mini-dress, turning slowly around so she could see how it accentuated her figure from different angles; she was barefoot, and there were a dozen pairs of expensive shoes on the floor nearby so she could try them on with each new dress. Even early in the afternoon on a day off from any kind of official work, Britany wore heavy makeup and her finger and toenails were perfectly painted a bright pink.

Britany was married to a successful country music singer; following her five-year career as a professional cheerleader, she had become a minor celebrity as a social media “influencer”, doing makeup and beauty tutorials, which had led to deals from several designers to collaborate on clothes, jewelry and beauty accessories.

Britany was known for her conservative and often highly controversial politics and viewpoints, which conveniently fed into she and her husband’s carefully-crafted persona of a proud “Southern-Country” couple.

An arrogant and vain woman, Britany was not shy about speaking her mind, and unapologetic when she offended people in the name of her “values”, becoming hostile and righteous when called out for behavior that was labeled as hateful and bigoted by many observers.

Her husband’s fame and wealth mostly shielded Britany from the consequences that her words and actions would bring to the average person, and only encouraged her to continued to do as she pleased.

Britany tried on a pair of tall, strappy silver sandals, nodding with approval at how they looked in combination with the silver dress.

“I would probably go with the black ones with the rhinestones,” a female voice said casually.

Startled, Britany whirled around to see an unfamiliar woman standing in her bedroom doorway.

“Who the fuck are you and how did you get in my house?” Britany asked in a shrill, indignant voice.

The woman smiled apologetically.

“Pardon me; my name is Maren. I walked in the front door,” she said with a Texas accent.

Maren smiled sweetly and winked.

Britany’s face turned red.

“Martina! Get in here! I am gong to fire your ass!” she yelled.

Maren shook her head.

“I am sorry, Martina and I had a little chat, and she decided to take a nap. She is asleep on the couch. I was hoping that you and I could talk now,” she said apologetically.

Britany looked at her incredulously, her face reddening.

“Are you fucking serious? You are trespassing! Get out of my house before I call my bodyguard and have him beat your ass, you trashy bitch!” she said, hands on her hips.

Wearing the four-inch heels, Britany towered over the tiny Maren.

She was five-two, with straight shoulder-length caramel brown hair that was pulled back in a simple ponytail, and she had lovely lightly-tanned skin and dark green eyes. She was wearing a tight, high-cropped long-sleeved red top that showed off exceptionally toned abs and a simple silver navel-piercing. Her breasts were firm and round, and she had notably pouty lips that seemed made for playful smirks. Around her neck was a simple gold “floating heart” pendant. Her earrings were small gold hearts with tiny rubies in the center. Maren also had on tight, well-worn jeans with several large holes on the thighs and frayed cuffs. Her fingernails were painted a shimmering red with silver tips, and she wore thick-soled red flip-flops that showed off her cute, very well-cared for feet; her toenails were painted white, and she wore a simple gold band on her right second toe.

Maren raised an eyebrow.

“You are calling me trashy? That seems a tad hypocritical,” she said.

“That’s it!” Britany fumed.

Maren watched, a bemused look on her face, as Britany moved over to the king-size bed and snatched up her phone from beside the pile of dresses.

The tall blonde stared at Maren as she hit a button and raised the phone to her ear.

“Trent? Get the fuck up to my bedroom, some bitch broke into the house!” she said angrily.

Britany disconnected the call without waiting for a reply, tossing the phone onto the bed.

“You are going to get it now, bitch. You really should leave before I have Trent fuck you up,” she said smugly.

“Really, you are going to have your big strong bodyguard assault a tiny woman?” Maren asked with a sigh.

Britany snorted.

“If you don’t get the fuck out, then hell yes I am. Do you know who I am, who my husband is?” she asked arrogantly.

Maren sighed again, rolling her eyes.

“Unfortunately, I do; your husband Luke is a mediocre poser of a country singer and wannabe mixed-martial-artist that caters to the “Bro Country” crowd with his excessive tats and lame “Hardship” or whatever that idiotic brand of wannabe tough-guy clothing is that he promotes. You are a tacky, shallow brat who thinks you can do or say whatever you like, and you are also a racist, intolerant bigot that spews hate for your “fans”. Oh, I almost forgot, you and Luke are phony southerners, since he is from New York and you are from San Francisco. He’s off playing a show in Philadelphia tonight, if I am not mistaken. Did I miss anything, honey?” she asked, emphasizing her own Texan accent.

Britany’s face twisted in rage.

“Fuck you, cunt! I will beat your ass myself!” she screamed.

The tall blonde lunged at Maren with surprising grace, considering her tall heels; as a former professional cheerleader Britany kept herself in excellent shape, and was still very athletic.

However, she was not a trained fighter; Maren was however, and she smoothly sidestepped Britany’s awkward punch.

The diminutive woman slipped off her flip flops even as she skillfully blocked Britany’s next clumsy blow.

Maren then countered with a swift, sharp punch to the blonde’s chest, causing her to double over gasping.

“You…bitch…,” Britany wheezed.

“Honey, you have no idea,” Maren replied sweetly.

She grabbed Britany’s hair and slammed her knee into the blonde’s stomach.

“Hey! Let go of her now!” a man’s voice said loudly.

Maren smashed her knee into Britany’s chest, blasting her breath from her lungs before releasing her hair; the blonde slumped to the floor, groaning in pain. Maren turned around to see a man standing in the doorway. He was tall and very handsome with intelligent brown eyes, olive skin, a shaved head and a neatly-trimmed black beard. He was dressed in a pair of black pants and a tight dark green long-sleeved shirt with the word “Hardship” emblazoned on the front in stylized gold lettering. He was perhaps thirty, broad-shouldered and muscular.

“Oh my, you are a cutie aren’t you?” Maren said to the man, fanning herself and pretending to swoon.

“Trent…beat this bitch and…call…the cops…,” Britany said from the floor, trying to catch her breath.

Trent looked uncertain, hesitating as he looked Maren over; he likely weighed close to a hundred pounds more than the small woman.

His face turned red, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

The perceptive Maren also noticed something else in his expression as he looked her over.

He likes me, and I think he is turned on by the fact that I beat on Britany; he enjoyed seeing it, she realized, noting a slight twitch in his pants, indicating that he was getting an erection.

“Britany, how about I just, you know, detain her?” he asked with a frown.

“Damn it…I said…kick her fucking ass! She assaulted me,” Britany said angrily.

“Technically, she attacked me first,” Maren said reasonably.

Trent sighed.

“You are trespassing, ma’am. If you will just please go—,” he began.

“Trent, you fucker! I will fire your ass!” Britany said angrily, struggling to her feet.

“I am sorry, but I can’t do that. Britany and I need to talk,” Maren replied casually.

Trent looked torn; he seemed to be a reasonable man, less than eager to manhandle a woman half his size.

He again shifted uncomfortably; to his embarrassment, his penis was now fully erect creating a tent in his pants.

“Please, ma’am, I—,” he began.

“Call me Maren,” she cut him off with a wink and a sexy pout.

Trent flushed.

“Oh, uh, okay…Maren, we can avoid any more unpleasantness if you will just come with me. Please,” he stammered.

The big, imposing bodyguard was clearly attracted to her; unexpected and exciting feelings that were clouding his judgement and causing him to hesitate.

Despite the situation, Maren found herself flattered.

Don’t be absurd, Maren! What are you, in high school?, the twenty-eight-year-old admonished herself silently.

There was an instant, undeniable attraction between them, however.

She chuckled and shook her head as she found herself becoming aroused at the thought of having sex with Trent, imagining him holding her up in his strong arms and pounding her against the wall.

Maren typically dated women, and generally preferred female lovers, but she was truly bisexual and was attracted to men as well.

She simply rarely met one that interested her enough to pursue a relationship with.

“Fuck you both!” Britany screamed, shaking Maren from her reverie.

She kicked off her sandals and charged at Maren.

The smaller woman spun away, dodging Britany’s attack and snapping a kick into her stomach.

Trent watched in stunned amazement as Maren blocked or dodged Britany’s clumsy attempts to punch and grab her, countering with perfect punches and kicks to the blonde’s thighs, stomach and ribs before moving gracefully back out of reach.

He knew he should intervene, it was his job, but he found himself standing still while the intriguing Maren beat up his boss, the woman he was paid to protect.

In truth, he despised Britany, and was actually enjoying the spectacle before him even though it would almost certainly cost him his job and harm his reputation.

Maren was truly impressive; she moved her small frame with speed and grace. She was obviously stronger than she appeared, and trained in at least two marital arts, likely Kung-Fu and Judo, Trent judged; he himself was a black belt in Tae Kwon Do.

He knew Maren was merely toying with Britany, dodging, blocking and striking as the blonde continued futilely to attack her.

After nearly two minutes, winded and in pain, the embarrassed and frustrated Britany shrieked and went after Maren yet again, charging at her with her arms outstretched.

Maren leapt into the air, performing a graceful jump-kick; her bare foot smashed into Britany’s face, and the blonde dropped to the floor in a heap, blood trickling from her mouth.

Maren landed gracefully, smiling and winking at Trent, who continued to stare open-mouthed.

Britany groaned, her hair a mess and her makeup smeared; she remained on the floor as Maren walked toward Trent, staring up at him.

“Ma’am, Maren, you can’t just…I mean, she is my boss, I have to take you out of here now. Please I don’t want to hurt you,” the bodyguard said.

“As if you could,” Maren replied playfully.

“Maren, I mean it…,” Trent said, attempting to sound assertive.

“Aren’t you cute…no, you do not want to hurt me, Trent. Relax, dear. Everything is fine. I promise. Just relax and look into my innocent eyes…look into my eyes, Trent, and listen to my voice…look deep into my eyes…let them draw you in…deeper and deeper…relaxing more and more with every word I speak…that’s it…keep looking…,” Maren purred in a seductive voice.

She moved to stand only a foot away from Trent, staring up at him with her intense green eyes, her hands on her hips.

“Wait, what? I…oh! My goodness, your eyes…,” he gasped as he met the woman’s gaze.

Maren’s eyes filled his vision, endless soothing green pools that beckoned him to into their depths even as her seductive voice flowed into his mind.

“You like them, don’t you Trent? It is so easy to simply look into my eyes and allow yourself to relax…deeper and deeper…sinking…dropping deeper…all the way down as you keep looking and listening to my words…listening and looking…relaxing and dropping…your thoughts fading, your mind becoming empty…feel all the tension leaving your body…it feels so good to let go and relax deeper and deeper…dropping all the way down…your mind becoming blank…allowing my words to become your thoughts…listening to everything I say…listening, and obeying…listening…obeying…you are completely relaxed now, Trent…you will not move or speak until I tell you to do so…you must obey Maren…I am your Mistress now…listen, and obey,” Maren said firmly, her Texas accent becoming Trent’s whole world.

The tall, muscular man no longer blinked; he felt light-headed, and it had become impossible to think. His body tingled pleasantly, and he let out a long sigh as he relaxed completely, his shoulders slumping.

He was hypnotized.

“I must…obey…Maren,” he mumbled.

The short, beautiful hypnotist smiled with satisfaction.

“Good boy. Just stand there quietly and wait for my instructions. You will respond only to my voice, no one else’s,” Maren commanded firmly.

Trent nodded dumbly.

“Yes, Mistress Maren,” he said obediently.

“What the actual fuck, Trent? You let her beat my ass! You are so fired! Trent! Trent?” Britany said shrilly as she struggled to a kneeling position.

Maren turned to her face her.

“He can’t hear you,” she said smugly.

Britany scowled.

“What did you do to him?” she demanded, trying to get to her feet.

Maren smiled as she sauntered toward the blonde.

“I will show you,” she replied.

Maren grabbed Britany’s hair, forcing her back to her knees and yanking her head back so she could stare into the blonde’s eyes.

“Look into my eyes,” Maren said in a powerful voice.

Britany grunted, struggling against Maren’s surprisingly strong grip.

“What the hell? Are you trying to hypnotize me?” she scoffed.

Britany tried to grab the hand Maren was holding her hair with, but the hypnotist used her free hand to grab Britany’s arm and twist it painfully.

“Ah! Stop! That hurts, bitch!” Britany said indignantly.

“The pain will stop if you just relax and look in my eyes…I promise,” Maren replied.

The hypnotist opened her eyes wider.

Britany reflexively met Maren’s gaze, her blue eyes going wide as she felt tangible energy being emitted from the hypnotist’s dazzling green pupils.

“Fuck you, you can’t hypno—oh!” the blonde gasped, stunned by the intensity of Maren’s stare.

“That’s it, dear…just look…keep looking, deeper and deeper…letting my eyes are so very soothing…my voice is very relaxing…keep looking into my eyes and listening to my words…relaxing more and more…feeling all the tension draining away, from the top of your head down through your body, out the tips of your toes…,” Maren suggested.

“S-Stop, stop! I, you, wait,” Britany stammered, squirming in Maren’s grasp.

Her eyes remained riveted to the hypnotist’s incredible gaze, and to her surprise and horror she felt her muscles beginning to slacken as she started to involuntarily relax.

Maren’s voice was incredibly soothing and insistent, her beautiful eyes magnificent dazzling pools that seemed to expand and draw her in.

“Feel yourself relaxing more and more…sinking inevitably into hypnosis…dropping deeper and deeper…the pain in your body fading away along with your thoughts…you are tired, Britany…it takes so much energy to fight, and you know that you will drop for me…as you continue to look into my eyes…relaxing more and more…it is so easy to stop fighting…to relax…feeling your resistance fading…along with your will…you want to simply give in and relax completely…it will feel so good to let go and relax completely…you are so, tired now Britany…relax for me now and sleep,” Maren said firmly.

The hypnotist released Britany’s arm and snapped her fingers beside the blonde’s head.

Britany whimpered, then her eyes slammed shut.

Maren continued to hold her up by her hair.

“Very good, Britany. Now I know how strong-willed and stubborn you are, so we need to take you much deeper into trance. When I snap my fingers, you will open your eyes and stare into mine again, and you will drop twice as deep into trance; when I snap them again, you will then close your eyes and drop twice and deep again. My words will penetrate deep into your mind and replace your own thoughts. We will repeat this process until your free will is completely gone,” Maren instructed.

“Drop…,” Britany murmured.

“Yes, good girl,” Maren said soothingly.

She snapped her fingers loudly.

Britany’s eyes opened and her gaze was again captured by Maren’s hypnotic stare.

“Drop for me, Britany. Relax deeper,”

Snap.

Britany’s eyes slammed shut.

“Very good…sinking deeper, deeper into trance,”

Snap.

Again Britany’s eyes snapped open, and she stared helplessly into Maren’s eyes.

“Dropping even deeper. Your mind is empty of everything but my voice. I am your Mistress now,”

Snap.

Britany’s eyes slammed shut again.

“Dropping deeper, all the way down. Completely relaxed, deeply hypnotized. Your free will is gone now. You are mine, my slave. I am your Mistress and you will obey me,”

Snap.

Britany’s eyes fluttered open; they were vacant and glassy. Her mouth hung open, her expression completely blank.

She was so deep in trance she could do nothing without her new Mistress’s direction.

“You are my slave now Britany, and you will obey my every command,” Maren said forcefully.

“I am…your slave…I will…obey every command,” the blond agreed in a dazed voice.

Satisfied, Maren released the entranced blonde’s hair.

“Excellent. Now we can get started,” she said, looking around the lavishly decorated and furnished room.

Again, her gaze settled on the handsome Trent.

Again, Maren imagined him fucking her passionately.

Perhaps I will indulge; he certainly wouldn’t object, even if I gave him the option, she thought with a smile.

Maren took a deep breath and focused.

She had work to do.

A mercenary hypnotist, Maren had been hired to utterly and publicly humiliate Britany, along with another woman.

Maren took her phone from her pocket and dialed a number before raising it to her ear.

“Hello Candice. You will come into the house and join me in the master bedroom on the second floor now,” she commanded.

After waiting for a reply, she put the phone back into her pocket and waited patiently until the other woman she’d been hired to humiliate entered the room.

Her name was Candice McClean; she was the host of a popular Atlanta-based conservative political podcast, known for her staunch anti-homosexual and racist content.

Britany had recently been a guest on the show, and had eagerly joined in on Candice’s hateful rhetoric, which she guised as “standing up for her values”.

Maren’s client had finally had enough of both women, and had offered the hypnotist fifty-thousand dollars to give them their comeuppance.

Maren had taken the job for free.

The hypnotist only accepted contracts that involved administering punishment to deplorable, awful people such as rapists, physical abusers, misogynists, and of course bigots like Britany and Candice.

Maren often performed the jobs for free; she did not need or covet money.

The hypnotist had been mysteriously gifted a fifteen-million-dollar trust fund upon turning eighteen, which was more than enough for her to live on and allowed her to accept little or no money for her mercenary hypnotism contracts.

She was still trying to figure out who had given her the money; whomever it was had covered their tracks very well, and Maren had not been able to identify them even with her prodigious hypnotism skills.

“Candice, you will kneel beside Britany there; I have some instructions for you,” she said firmly.

“Yes Mistress,” Candice replied, obviously deeply hypnotized.

She quickly assumed a kneeling position beside Britany. Candice was fifty-one, a tall attractive brunette with long wavy hair, brown eyes and a curvy figure; she was dressed in a well-tailored white pantsuit and tall white pumps.

Maren had visited Candice’s office earlier that morning, and had hypnotized the talk-show host with little trouble.

“Alright, Britany and Candice, listen to me very carefully…,” Maren began in a strong, clear voice.

Three hours later, Maren walked into a small coffee shop and ordered a large cinnamon-vanilla latte. After paying for her drink she looked casually around the shop, quickly spotting her client to a table in back corner of the establishment and moving to join her.

“Hello Natalie,” she said cheerfully as she sat down.

“Hello Maren,” Natalie replied with a big grin.

Natalie Novak was a pretty African American woman; thirty-six, she was an Atlanta police detective with short hair dyed a rich brown and dark, intelligent eyes. She was wearing a grey pantsuit and sensible black shoes, her only jewelry a pair of small gold hoop earrings and a gold wedding band. She had a dazzling smile, and radiated confidence.

“I assume you saw the video,” Maren asked with a wink, sipping her latte.

Natalie nodded.

“I did and all I can say is…holy fucking shit, Maren,” she replied quietly.

Maren smiled.

“What? I did exactly as you requested, didn’t I?” she asked innocently.

Natalie chuckled and shook her head.

“Yes, you certainly did. It was just way more…,” she began, trailing off.

“Graphic? Explicit?” Maren suggested helpfully.

“I was going to say impressive and…exciting, if I am being honest. I guess I don’t know what I was expecting,” Natalie replied, sipping her own coffee.

“As long as you’re happy with the results…?” Maren inquired.

Natalie nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh hell yes! I feel a little bad about how much I enjoyed watching it, and a little ashamed that I don’t feel bad about what you did to them at my request,” she replied sheepishly.

“No worries, Natalie; it can be a bit of shock to see what True Hypnotism can do. You really should not feel bad, either; I enjoyed doing it to them. I may not dominate and humiliate people at the drop of a hat like a lot of hypnotists, but I am a hypnodomme and I don’t lose any sleep over doing to people who deserve it. This one was extra satisfying; I can’t stand people like Britany,” Maren replied with a giggle.

The hypnotist had taken her time, carefully programming the two women to became intolerably aroused by one another, then filmed them with Britany’s phone having vigorous, passionate sex for nearly two hours.

The two anti-homosexual minor celebrities put on a magnificent show with Maren’s direction, orgasming several times each as they did their best imitation of lesbian pornography actresses.

When Maren was satisfied with their performance, she had them put themselves back together, called a cab for Candice, and then left Britany’s house.

The two women would have no memory of her nor being hypnotized.

However, before leaving the house, Maren had uploaded the video to all of both women’s social media accounts, as well as sent it to a half-dozen celebrity news agencies.

When Britany had snapped out of her trance ten minutes after Maren left, she found her phone blowing up with over three hundred texts and voicemails.

“It really is a great video, I have to say; it was well done. Very hot,” Natalie replied with a chuckle.

The detective had stumbled across the true hypnotism community in Atlanta a year earlier, and had carefully cultivated contacts within it.

Fed up with Britany’s behavior, a truly disgusted Natalie had spent two thousand dollars to get Maren’s contact number, and had been willing to cash out the bulk of her investment portfolio to pay for Britany and Candice’s humiliation.

“I made sure they wanted each other; it makes a better film than them all crying and trying to resist while they awkwardly eat each other against their wills, even thought that would have been more satisfying for me to watch. Maybe I should write and direct a porn movie with hypnotized actors,” Maren said with a chuckle.

“I’d watch it. Maren, this turned out wonderful, better than I could have wished for. I was, and still am, furious over what Britany got away with involving that black police officer last year. If she hadn’t been a rich, famous pretty white girl, she would have gone to jail for assault. That wasn’t the first time her entitled ass got away with something like that. The law wasn’t ever going to punish her, and she has too many fans and supporters who share her views. I am just grateful that you were willing to knock her down a few pegs. It probably won’t completely destroy her career, but it will cause her lot of difficulty and humiliation for a while. Are you sure I can’t pay you?” Natalie asked.

Maren shook her head.

“No. Natalie, you have a family, young children. I am not taking your savings. You wanted Candice and Britany humbled harshly, and I was happy to oblige; their anti-gay rhetoric is tedious and it hurts people. I like girls myself. They deserve whatever fallout comes from their little romp,” she replied, sipping her coffee.

“I just feel bad you doing it for free, Maren,” Natalie persisted.

The hypnotist was thoughtful.

“Okay, if you want to make a one-thousand dollar donation to a gay rights group, I will accept that as payment,” she said.

Natalie smiled.

“Done. Thank you again, Mistress Maren,” she said.

“Just call me ‘Maren’,” the hypnotist replied with a wink.

Natalie nodded appreciatively.

“It is a shame they won’t remember any of it. I guess they will just have to watch the video like everyone else,” she said with a laugh.

Maren snorted.

“Oh, they remember the sex by now; I suggested they would recall making love, and how much fun it had been, how good it felt, when they saw the video the first time. They just don’t know why it happened. It is a bit of a shame they won’t remember kissing my feet, but at least we know they did it, and I have it on video on my phone in case it ever comes in handy. I may have also left them a compulsion to subconsciously want each other, which may drive them a little crazy,” she said with a wicked smirk.

Maren did not add that she had left both Britany and Candice post-hypnotic triggers that would send them instantly back into deep hypnotized states if they heard her speak them, in person or overt the phone.

Natalie laughed.

“Oh you are bad. I love it,” she said with approval.

“I really am, Detective,” Maren agreed.

“Call me ‘Natalie”,” the policewoman replied with a smile.

The hypnotist and the detective sat enjoying their coffee and one another’s company; they shared a laugh at the reaction of two young women seated at a nearby table as they watched the video Maren had made.

“Oh my fucking god, that is Britany Cashmere and Candice what’s-her-name, the talk-radio woman! They are like, total lesbians!” one of the women said in amazement.

“Right? Total hypocrites! Holy shit, look at what she’s doing to her! Britany just came so hard! That was hot,” the other one said in a low, excited voice.

“Well on that note, I am afraid I have to go. It was a pleasure, Natalie. You have my number if you ever need anything,” Maren said, finishing her coffee and rising to her feet.

Natalie stood as well and offered the hypnotist a hug, which Maren readily accepted.

“And if I can ever help you in any way, please let me know,” the detective said as they embraced.

A moment later Maren stepped out of the coffee shop and got into her new red Bronco SUV, smiling as she drove the short distance to the small motel where she was staying.

She went into her ground-floor single occupancy room to find Trent kneeling at the end of the bed, wearing only his pants and a dazed expression; he was still under Maren’s hypnotism, and she had ordered him to remove his shoes and socks, along with his shirt, then get on his knees and wait for her commands.

The hypnotist smiled, admiring his broad, muscular chest a big strong arms.

“Now what shall I do with you? Actually, I know what I want to do, what I am going to do. Trent, you will massage my feet,” Maren commanded, sitting on the edge of the queen sized bed and kicking off her flip flops.

“Yes, Mistress Maren,” Trent agreed.

Maren let out a contented sigh as the handsome hypnotized young man began to gently rub her feet with his strong hands.

“Mmmm, you are good at that, Trent. Tell, me are you a foot-guy?” the hypnotist asked slyly.

“Yes, Mistress. I love a woman who has nice feet and takes good care of them,” Trent replied.

Maren giggled; so many men, and quite a few women, had a fetish for women’s feet.

“Tell me, how long have you worked for Britany?” she asked next.

“Almost five years, Mistress; ever since I got out of the Marine Corps. She was looking for a bodyguard with military experience, and she paid very well,” Trent replied.

“I see. And do you like working for her?” Maren asked next.

Trent frowned slightly, hesitating before answering.

“Not really, Mistress,” Trent replied.

Maren closed her eyes, enjoying the continued foot-massage.

“Then why do it?” she inquired.

Again, Trent hesitated; he was obviously uncomfortable or shy about answering.

Maren frowned.

“Trent, you are completely in my power and you will obey me; you will answer my questions completely truthfully. You are safe and feel wonderful confiding in me, Trent,” she said in a firm but soothing tone.

Trent visibly relaxed as she continued to rub his Mistress’s feet.

“I…I like being told what to do…especially by women,” he replied.

Maren opened her eyes and smiled.

“Oh, so you are a natural submissive, are you? That is very interesting,” she said thoughtfully.

She had been planning to have sex with Trent while he was hypnotized, then leave him in the hotel room to awaken after she had left.

Now, a new plan was forming in Maren’s mind.

She wanted to talk to Trent while he was aware.

“Trent, listen very carefully; when I snap my fingers, you will awaken from your trance. However, you will remain utterly, completely compelled to obey my every command. You will be simply unable to resist my orders. You will obey me wether you want to do so or not. The harder you try to resist me, the stronger the urge to obey me will become. Also, you will accept and follow my suggestions as if they were your own thoughts, even though you are awake. These suggestions are now locked into your subconscious and you must follow them as if they were your own desires. Do you understand me?” Maren asked firmly.

“Yes Mistress,” Trent agreed immediately.

Smiling, Maren raised her hand and casually snapped her fingers.

Trent blinked his dry eyes.

“What the hell?” he asked, pausing his massaging of Maren’s feet.

“I did not give you permission to stop; keep rubbing my feet,” Maren said firmly.

Trent snorted.

“You don’t really think your hypnosis mumb-jumbo is going to-to…uh…shit…I…,” he said, trailing off as he indeed felt an overwhelming urge to obey Maren.

He began once again to massage her feet.

He could not stop himself.

“That’s better,” the hypnotist said sweetly.

“I…you…you really hypnotized me,” Trent said, awed.

“I did, honey. I didn’t want to have to beat you up,” Maren said in her Texas drawl.

She winked at him, and Trent grinned and shook his head.

After seeing her toying with Britany, he did not doubt that the small woman would be a true challenge in a fight.

However, with her apparent talent for hypnosis she did not need to fight him.

She could keep him on his knees with simple command.

Trent felt his cock beginning to stiffen.

“I don’t understand, hypnotism doesn’t work like this,” Trent protested.

Maren raised an eyebrow, smirking at him as he continued to rub her feet.

“Oh really? Is that right?” she asked innocently.

Trent sighed.

“Well, it isn’t supposed to,” he muttered.

Maren chuckled.

“You are right; the hypnotism practiced by most therapists and stage performers can’t make people do things against their will. True hypnotism can, though. A True hypnotist, like me, can make almost anyone do almost anything,” she explained patiently.

Trent frowned, then shrugged.

“Okay fine, so I’m true-hypnotized…but why? And why did you hypnotize Britany?” he asked.

The hypnotist nodded her approval of his acceptance of the situation.

“Technically you are operating under a post-hypnotic suggestion now, just so you know. I hypnotized Britany for a client who wanted her to get her comeuppance. Stop massaging my feet and take a look,” Maren explained.

She dug her phone out of her pocket, and first showed Trent the short video of the sexy Britany sucking her toes she’d taken as a trophy, followed by several minutes of the recording of Britany and Candice having vigorous sex.

“Holy shit, someone hired you to make them do that?” Trent said in amazement.

Maren nodded.

“They did; Britany is a disgusting person, and someone had enough of her hateful bullshit. They wanted her to suffer some humiliation, along with that revolting Candice McClean. She’s a disgrace to us people of Irish descent,” she sniffed.

Despite his situation, Trent laughed.

“I am not a fan of her. And honestly, Britany deserves everything she gets,” he said.

“I agree one hundred percent. I am not concerned with her, though. It is you that I am not sure about,” Maren replied.

She casually extended her leg, running her bare foot slowly and sensually across his chest.

Trent trembled slightly at her touch, flushing; his cock was tenting his pants.

Maren pointedly glanced down at it, then grinned at the kneeling man as she continued to rub her foot on his chest.

Trent swallowed hard and looked away, embarrassed.

“You find me attractive, don’t you Trent?” Maren teased.

Trent chuckled.

“Very. The way you beat Britany’s ass was sexy as hell, and the hypnotism thing…that is fucking hot too,” he said in a husky voice.

The hypnotist smiled.

“Would you like to worship me? Be my sex slave?” she asked slyly.

Trent nodded eagerly.

“Yes. Fuck it, yes I would,” he replied.

Maren giggled.

“How intriguing. It isn’t like you have a choice, but you being willing is lovely. Now get up and take off those pants and underwear,” she commanded.

“Yes, Mistress,” Trent said, rising to his feet.

A moment later he stood before her naked; his body bore several scars on his chest and legs, the result of injuries sustained in combat as a Marine.

His large cock was fully erect.

Maren looked at him with undisguised lust.

“Very nice. Now help me out of my clothes,” Maren ordered, rising to her feet.

Trent obeyed, moving to gently help Maren out of her top; she smiled up at him as she slowly unhooked her nude-colored bra and revealed her fantastic breasts.

Next, Trent slowly lowered her jeans, then her skimpy red thong underwear; the hypnotist’s pubic hair was shaved, and her legs were as finely toned as her abs.

“Like what you see?” Maren asked.

Trent nodded eagerly.

“Kneel. You need to continue your foot worship. Suck on my toes, slave,” Maren commanded sitting back on the bed.

Trent did not try to resist the incredible urge to obey; he immediately knelt before the sexy naked woman, reverently taking her bare foot in his hands and raising it to his mouth.

Maren giggled as the big, strong man was reduced to her foot-slave.

She had always loved dominating men; they were physically more powerful, but all their strength meant nothing once she’d hypnotized them.

Maren could make them do anything; they were powerless to resist her.

She closed her eyes and laid back on the bed, enjoying the sensations as Trent sucked gently at each of the toes on her left foot, then switching and doing the same the ones on her right.

“Mmm…good boy…now kiss you way up my legs. Slowly. Worship me,” Maren commanded.

Trent again did not even try to resist; he began to kiss her firm, sexy legs, caressing her skin with his lips. He took his time, nibbling at her flesh, gently biting the inside of her thighs and making Maren gasp at the waves of pleasure he was sending through her body.

The hypnotist spread her legs, and Trent began to lick at her pussy, lightly at first, running his tongue around the edges.

Maren moaned softly, then gasped and shrieked loudly as Trent thrust his tongue into her and began to lick vigorously. He continued enthusiastically, eventually sucking hard at Maren’s clit.

The petite hypnotist shrieked, shuddering as she orgasmed.

“Oh my…that was nice…,” she said, sitting up as she caught her breath.

“Happy to help,” Trent replied with a grin.

Maren giggled.

“You are far from finished, dear. Get up here and fuck me,” she said, again laying back.

“Yes Mistress,” Trent said, moving onto the bed.

He climbed carefully on top of Maren.

“Trent, you cannot climax until I allow it; you will not…cannot cum without my permission…,” Maren informed him.

Trent paused for just a second or two, a look of surprise on his face as his mind accepted her suggestions.

Then he grinned and shook his head as her realized that his body would obey her wether he wished it to or not.

Maren moaned as he slid his long, rock hard shaft into her; he began to thrust slowly, moving rhythmically and powerfully.

Maren’s moans became louder, quickly becoming shrieks of pleasure as Trent increased his tempo.

“Yes…YES! Harder…mmm…ah…that’s it…yes…deeper dear…DEEPER…YES!” Maren said loudly.

Trent grunted as he obeyed, thrusting harder and faster.

He could feel himself on the edge of his release, the familiar feeling just before he orgasmed.

He did not.

He could not.

Though he was almost intolerably aroused, he could not reach his climax.

Trent could not help but laugh as he felt Maren trembling beneath him as she had another powerful orgasm.

They continued their marathon lovemaking for the next two hours; Trent gently lifted Maren in his arms, then pinned her to the wall and fucked her hard against it; after bringing her to orgasm, they repositioned with Maren bent over the bed so that Trent could pound her from behind. After she’d had yet another orgasm, they took a short break before Maren had Trent lay on the bed so she could climb on top of him.

She enthusiastically impaled herself on his still rock-hard shaft; she shrieked loudly, her hair flying wildly as she slammed herself down on Trent over and over again.

The handsome man let out a frustrated grunt each time Maren moved up and down; he had been pleasuring her continuously for what seemed like an eternity while unable to orgasm.

His erection was becoming painful.

Maren orgasmed hard yet again, letting out a long, loud scream as she shuddered in ecstasy.

She leaned forward, sweaty and panting, her small breasts pressing on Trent’s muscular chest.

“Oh my that was fun; I know, you need to release, dear,” Maren whispered.

The hypnotist rolled off of Trent.

“You may shoot on my tummy,” she said slyly.

Trent gratefully moved to straddle Maren. He stroked his cock, twice, then let out a shout of pure relief as he painted Maren’s taut abdomen with his semen.

“I…thank you, Mistress,” Trent said, his shaft rapidly diminishing.

Maren giggled.

“You earned it. Now come with me into the shower so you can wash me,” she commanded.

Trent obediently followed the sexy woman into the bathroom and proceeded to do as she’d ordered, almost reverently washing her from head to toe.

When they were finished in the shower, Maren slipped into a thick, comfortable dark pink robe and climbed back onto the bed.

“Kneel,” she commanded the still-naked Trent, pointing to the foot of the bed.

The handsome man obeyed. He remained silent as Maren picked up her phone from the nightstand and dialed a number.

The hypnotist ordered a large mushroom and pepperoni pizza with extra cheese to be delivered to the room.

“I am hungry; I bet you are too, you are quite a stud. I normally try to eat healthy, but I love pizza and indulge after a job. Anyway, you’ve had a taste of being a slave, and we got to have a lot of fun. I am sure you have a ton of questions; would you like to hear a bit about the True Hypnotism world?” Maren asked, tossing her phone aside.

“Yes Mistress,” Trent replied eagerly.

Maren spent the next twenty minutes giving Trent a very brief summary of how the True Hypnotism community and many of its members operated.

“So, you are actually not that typical for a True Hypnotist, then? Most people with your skills are much more self-serving…uh…,” Trent asked.

“Bitches?” Maren supplied helpfully.

Trent nodded.

“Yes, a lot of hypnotists have stables of slaves besides their Thrall, and more often than not treat them like garbage,” Maren replied.

“But not you; you go around the country just…helping people?” Trent asked, obviously intrigued.

Maren smiled.

“For the most part, yes; I am a bit of a wanderer, I suppose. I do love helping people, but I am no saint; I am still a hypnodomme. I have the urge to dominate, to humiliate people who annoy me. I truly enjoy it. I just try to limit it to people who deserve it; I did not always do that in the past. Now I allow myself to revel in what I do to people like Britany. I also enjoy playtime with a semi-willing submissive,” she said with a wink.

Trent laughed.

Before he could say anything further, there was a knock at the room’s door.

Maren hopped gracefully off the bed and answered it, accepting the delicious-smelling pizza and tipping the astonished young man who’d delivered it with a one-hundred-dollar bill.

“Okay, you may get up and sit on the bed. I love the pizza from Mario’s. I always get it when I am in town,” the hypnotist said.

She and Trent sat beside one another on the bed, eating and continuing their conversation.

By the time they’d finished, Trent’s cock was fully erect again.

“Oh my, you are potent, aren’t you?” Maren teased, casually stroking his shaft.

Trent chuckled.

“It is you, Mistress. I…I have never met a woman like you. You are amazing,” he said, his face reddening.

Maren smiled, continuing to stroke his shaft.

“Well then, why don’t we go again, and then I can release you,” she said.

Trent shook his head.

“No,” he whispered.

Maren frowned.

“No? You don’t want to have sex with me again?” she asked with a pout.

She stopped stroking his cock.

Trent swallowed and shook his head again.

“I…don’t want you to release me,” he said.

Maren looked startled.

“You want to stay my slave?” she asked.

“I do,” Trent replied simply.

“Why?” Maren asked, intrigued.

“I…I love you. I fell for you almost instantly. I like serving a strong woman. You are smart, powerful, beautiful and sexy. I want to obey you, protect you. Worship you,” Trent whispered.

Maren looked stunned.

“I am not sure what to say,” she said.

Trent sighed.

“Please, Mistress. I would like to be your Thrall, if you will have me. I can’t go back to Britany, and I don’t want to. You are a real woman, and I want to serve you. I know my place now, you have shown me where I belong. I have never been more sure of anything. Please, Mistress. I know I am not worthy of you, but please consider it,” he begged.

The handsome naked man dropped to his knees before Maren.

The hypnotist shook her head.

“I have never wanted a Thrall, Trent. You would be giving up your life to become a slave. It would not always be pleasant. I am not a perfect woman,” Maren said seriously.

Trent took on a pleading expression.

“You are perfect for me, Mistress. Own me, use me. Or if you won’t have me, please make me forget you. It will be too painful for you to simply leave me,” he said, his voice trembling.

Maren chewed at her bottom lip.

In truth, she’d been instantly, strongly attracted to Trent the moment she had laid eyes on him, and he had proven to be a remarkable man.

Having him on the road with me as my Thrall might be fun, Maren mused.

“Is this truly what you want? Answer truthfully,” she commanded.

“Yes Mistress!” Trent answered immediately.

The hypnotist’s expression became serious, and for an instant Trent feared she was going to reject him.

Then she smiled.

“Do you really think I’m beautiful?” Maren asked almost shyly.

Trent nodded vigorously.

“Yes! You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on,” he said solemnly.

The hypnotist giggled like a teenager.

“That is so sweet; an exaggeration, but still very sweet. Okay, Trent. You are a capable, intelligent man, and it doesn’t hurt that you are a handsome stud. If you really want to be my Thrall, I am willing to give it a try. One thing, you need to understand and accept that you will not be my only lover; I love women, and I often share my bed with them. You will of course be allowed to join in, at least some of the time. You are going to do a lot of menial things for me every single day. I just want you to truly understand what you are signing up for,” she said seriously.

Trent nodded.

“I do. I was basically Britany’s slave, only I was doing it for money. I want to be your slave because you deserve to be protected and worshipped, because I want to serve you. I want to serve an amazing, powerful woman. I want to serve you, in any way you wish. It will give my life purpose,” he said.

Maren was silent, her expression thoughtful.

Trent waited respectfully, anxious for her to speak but remaining silent.

“Do you have any family or friends that will miss you?” Maren asked.

Trent shook his head.

“My parents are dead, and I don’t have any siblings. I have a few friends, but nobody I am super close too,” he said.

Maren took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then nodded.

“Alright. I want you to look into my eyes, Trent. Look deep into my eyes and begin to masturbate to me,” Maren instructed, rising to her feet.

The hypnotist shrugged off her robe and stared down at Trent, her green eyes wide.

He looked up, a smile on his face as he began to stroke himself.

“That’s it…keep looking deep into my eyes…deeper…deeper into my eyes…it is very easy to allow them to draw you in…while you listen carefully to my words and continue to pleasure yourself…feeling that pleasure and associating it with serving me…obeying me…worshipping me…you want to be my slave…you must obey me, serve me, worship me…keep looking into my eyes and stroking…feeling so good…when I tell you to release you will have a powerful orgasm, the most powerful one you have ever had…when you do so, you will be mine, my slave…forever…is that what you truly want, Trent?” Maren asked firmly in her honed, hypnotic voice.

Her magnificent eyes bored into his.

“Yes Mistress,” Trent replied without hesitation, awed by Maren’s beauty and power.

He continued to stroke his cock, his hand pumping rapidly.

“Say you will obey me,” Maren commanded.

“I will obey you!” Trent said.

“Again!”

“I will obey you!”

Trent continued to stroke himself.

“Again, slave!”

“I will obey you Mistress Maren!” Trent said loudly.

“Than cum, Trent. Cum now and know in your heart that you are mine! I am your Mistress and you are my slave. You will obey my every command, as of now and forever!” Maren said firmly.

Trent gasped, trembling as he had a massive orgasm; his mind was completely overwhelmed by Maren’s power as a wave of hypnotic energy flowed from her eyes into him.

He shot his load all over the carpet with a shout of pure joy, his free will now gone as he voluntarily gave himself to his mistress.

Trent slumped over, exhausted both physically and mentally as he truly became Maren’s slave.

Late the next morning, Trent was loading his Mistress’s luggage into her SUV. He was dressed in a pair of new grey cargo pants and a dark blue long-sleeved button-up shirt, along with black boots. Tucked into the waistband of his pants was a small Glock nine-millimeter pistol, which he was quite skilled in using.

He was placing everything the hypnotist owned into her vehicle; she had no permanent residence, living on the road in hotels and motels.

Maren was in the motel room, naked, finishing an intense yoga session. The diminutive hypnotist followed a regimented workout routine.

She had slept contentedly in Trent’s arms, and awoken him early in the morning so she could ride him vigorously.

Maren had again prevented him from orgasming while inside her, ordering him to masturbate to her after she’d been satisfied.

After they had breakfast at a nearby diner, the hypnotist had taken her new Thrall shopping for his new wardrobe, as well as personal items like a razor and a toothbrush.

“We will need to get you a collar, for when we are around other hypnotists,” Maren had said while Trent tried on clothes at a department store.

“Your wish is my command,” her Thrall had replied.

The last stop on their shopping trip had been a gun store; Maren had used her gorgeous green eyes to hypnotize the clerk into selling her the pistol Trent now carried for double the retail price in cash and forgo the background check and paperwork; after the hypnotist and her Thrall had left the shop, the clerk had been quite unable to recall what either of them looked like.

When they had returned to the motel, Maren began her workout and ordered Trent to load her belongings into her Bronco, along with his new large duffel containing the possessions he would be taking on the road.

We should probably head west when we get on the road, Maren mused as she rolled up her pink yoga mat.

The mercenary hypnotist had two contracts she was considering, one in Colorado, the other in Las Vegas.

She would give it some thought and decide in the next day or so; either way, it would be nice to have Trent along do some of the driving…among other things.

Maren was smiling as she stepped into the shower; she was excited by the unexpected development of Trent becoming her Thrall. While she could have taken one at any time since becoming a True Hypnotist, Maren had not met a man or woman she wanted with her full-time, at least not one she would be taking away from a life they would miss. Trent was a perfect candidate; he had no family to wonder about his disappearance, and more importantly to Maren he wanted to serve her. He was handsome, intelligent, highly suggestible and very capable, everything she could want in a full-time servant.

Maren’s excitement was akin to the rush of being in a new romantic relationship; while Trent wasn’t exactly her boyfriend, their relationship was a romantic one as well as a dominant-submissive one.

In truth, his unabashed praise and adoration made her feel like she was indeed in high school again, a pleasant tingling in the pit of her stomach.

“Men telling you that you are beautiful never gets old, and it doesn’t hurt that he is great in bed and has a huge cock,” Maren said to herself with a chuckle as she dried herself off.

Maren went back into the room and put on a pair of white shorts and a red spaghetti-strap tank top.

She brushed her wet hair, and didn’t bother with any jewelry or makeup except a beautiful emerald pendant and a simple gold anklet; she slipped on her red flip flops and put a pair of oversized white-framed sunglasses on top of her head. She then packed the rest of her belongings that Trent had not already put into her Bronco in a large black shoulder-bag that she always kept nearby.

Maren looked up and smiled as Trent entered the room.

“Your truck is packed and I checked you out of the motel, as you commanded, Mistress,” he said.

Trent had clearly adapted almost instantly to serving Maren. His expression was relaxed, and he stood before her in a military “at-ease” position as he awaited further orders.

“Thank you dear,” the hypnotist replied.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Trent on the cheek.

The Thrall broke into a huge grin, made genuinely happy by his owner’s gesture of affection.

Before Maren could say anything else, there was a knock at the door.

“Answer it,” the hypnotist ordered.

Trent nodded, then moved to cautiously open the door.

There was no one there.

Looking down, he saw a small golden envelope. He picked it up and saw that it had “Mistress Maren” written on the front in black ink, and it was sealed with red wax stamped with a “G”.

Trent looked around outside, then closed the door and handed the envelope to his Mistress.

Frowning slightly, the hypnotist took it and unsealed it, taking out a gilded sheet of paper. Trent stood quietly while his Mistress read the letter.

When she had finished, Maren went to her shoulder bag and retrieved a small, well-worn leather journal.

“It appears I have been invited to a meeting in Los Angeles, with a group of hypnotists who use their skills in the same way I do, to give people who deserve it their comeuppance,” she said, still frowning.

“Mistress, is something wrong? Surely you are not going to go?” Trent asked.

“Normally I would not consider it, but in this case I believe I may have to,” Maren replied.

Trent gave her an inquisitive look.

Maren held up the journal.

“When I was seventeen, this book was delivered to me at the foster home I lived in. I was a bit of a hellion at the time; a long story for another time. Anyway, the book arrived with a note, telling me that I was descended from a family of powerful hypnotists and that with practice I could make people do whatever I wanted. The book is a hand-written journal that contains instructions and notes on how to unlock my hypnotic power and use various skills and inductions. I began to practice, and the results are obvious,” Maren explained.

She did not mention that she suspected that whomever had sent her the journal had also given her the trust fund money a year later.

“I see…,” Trent said neutrally, clearly not quite understanding.

Maren continued.

“I was given the journal eleven years ago, and I never found out who sent it to me. This letter is hand-written, and the handwriting is exactly the same as in the journal. The author says they are proud of who I have become, and eager to meet me,” she said.

Maren was excited and intrigued; she had spent many hours trying to track down whomever had given her the journal and introduced her to her hypnotic talents, to no avail.

“I will protect and obey you, whatever you decide to do Mistress,” Trent replied sincerely.

Maren smiled at him.

“I know you will, dear. Thank you. I believe we are going to Los Angeles. The meeting is in six days, so we have plenty of time,” she replied.

The hypnotist carefully packed her journal and the letter in her bag, then put it on her shoulder.

Trent opened the door for her, and Maren stepped out of the hotel and headed for her Bronco; she had to stop herself from getting into the driver’s seat.

“You are driving, Trent. Find a Starbucks,” the hypnotist commanded, lowering her sunglasses before climbing into the passenger seat.

“Your wish is my command,” Maren’s Thrall replied.

Trent got into the vehicle, adjusted the seat to accommodate his nearly foot difference with Maren in height, and started the engine.

He glanced at his Mistress, smiling.

Maren leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you for becoming mine, slave,” she whispered affectionately in his ear.

The hypnotist then settled in for the drive ahead, buckling her seatbelt and kicking off her flip flops.

Trent’s smile widened as he maneuvered the truck out of the motel parking lot.

Both the hypnotist and her Thrall were eager and excited to see what the future would bring, and they were happy to be finding finding out together.