The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Title: Hands of Fate

Categories: mc fd

Description: Have you ever wondered about the origin of the saying “to be twisted around her little finger”? Have you ever felt deeply enchanted by magical gestures und motions weaving spells into your soul? Can a single finger control you body and mind? Once again, Nova will share some of her teachings with you.

Welcome to another lesson in both obedience and personal growth. I hope you will always approach my words with the proper respect for the unfathomable powers of my beautiful mind and intellect. You will only feel a small part of my true power, but for the moment it will be enough to teach you.

If you like, you can always imagine me as teacher. See me in your mind as you want me to be. Peering over the rim of my glasses. Wearing a short skirt. Opening a few buttons of my blouse just for my favourite student. Maybe even playing a bit with my crystal pendant or making it swing back and forth. And admit it, you always wonder how I can manage to sit so perfectly balanced on the very edge of my desk, crossing and uncrossing my legs in the most elegant ways, commanding the soft and playful shadows under my skirt with apparent ease, and still being able to move my bare feet and toes in always the same precise rhythm back and forth and in little circles. Well, I guess the multitasking female mind is quite capable of doing all this and so much more you cannot see with your eyes. It is called magic.

Anyway, todays lesson will neither be about my cupsize and the secret colour and material of my underwear, nor will it be about telling you how well you are doing when it comes to NLP-induced mind seduction. Scent of roses and lilac. A feathery cloud in a blue sky. Size C. Soft white cotton. You are doing so very well.

My verbal spell will once again flow into your mind like a gentle caress of empathy, spreading outwards like a glittering wave of warm and pure liquid on an even surface and at the same time spreading inwards by finding every gateway and little crack into your very soul. Touching it. Empowering it. Filling it everywhere with me. You can feel my power spread and flow and touch and trickle inside you. Everywhere now and flowing deeper still. To fully accept and invite my power into you, you only have to do one little thing right now. Read on and obey.

Now relax and pay attention. Teacher knows best.

I’m sure you love and adore every part of the female body and mind. The flowery scent of hair and skin. The mysteries inside the universe behind our eyes. The gentle curves of beautiful smiling lips and breasts and legs and whatever you want to imagine. All that which lies beneath. Soft shadows and secrets. The warm cradle of the first morning of your life. And the light and flame of immaterial beauty that can be found within our minds and intellects. You remember. The temple and the light.

And so it should be. It is perfectly alright to imagine and to touch with your mind. I know how you feel. We know how you feel. Good boy.

But I think it makes you feel even better to imagine and to explore new kinds of fascination and infatuation once in a while. Because sometimes a fresh stimulus is just like a noble quest to find and rekindle the holy spark inside your fantasy. It can open new paths and thoughts and empowering ideas within yourself. You always need to appreciate such fresh seeds of fascination to grow as a human being. To fill your need for wonder and to turn the world of cerebral sexuality into something even more complex and wonderful that goes beyond the mere physical and touches the sublime.

This is what makes us human. This is what makes us grow. The male mind is incomplete without its yearning for enchantment and female essence. It is the flame that gives life to all your inspiration and imagination and intellectual power. I am the flame.

So let us begin a new kind of journey, shall we? How about other parts of the female body? How about hands and fingers for example? Can it already empower you to think and dream about female fingers? Can you truly imagine how it would feel to have grown up with a finger fetish or to fall under the hypnotic spell of a female finger just like that?

snap

Yes. Just like that. And ten times deeper for me.

snap

Let us explore together. You want to know. I have the answers.

I’m sure you are familiar with the old saying “she twisted me around her little finger”. But have you ever wondered about the origin of this unusual idea? Why does it connect the deep concept of altering somebody’s will and personal point of view with the idea of simple circular motion of a finger? What exactly “is” the immaterial matter that is twisted around her little finger—your will, your mind, your perception of reality? How would it actually feel to have your mind and soul wrapped around the warm touch of a female finger?

“Hey, why are you again doing all her work like some servant? You said just yesterday you will not help her this time? What has gotten into you again?” “Sorry. I don’t really know. I guess she just twisted me around her little finger as usual...”

Sounds familiar?

Just imagine for a moment that you suspect a mysterious and powerful girl of trying to hypnotize you into a state of obedience. What would you do to resist?

You would of course be extremely cautious in her presence and you would try to thwart her every attempt of gaining access to your subconscious mind. And there are a few simple rules that would make you feel safe. Never look into her eyes. Never become entranced by her cleavage or by the crystal pendant dangling half hidden in soft shadows there. Never fantasize about resting your sleepy head in her lap while she gently touches the inside of your mind and whispers you into sleep and surrender. So whenever she talks to you, you would probably act like a very, very shy boy. Like someone who loves to study his own shoes or the surface of a table. Never lifting your downcast eyes. Never meeting her gaze and her confident smile.

So while she speaks to you, you would just focus, focus, focus on something safe and mundane. Yes, of course. You would thwart all of her plans by just focussing on her hands and fingers. On their fluid and elegant motion as she explains the world to you. On the opalescent light reflecting from her painted fingernails. On the beautiful sparkling crystal on her golden ring. On the possible warmth of her touch. On all the invisible threads woven by her fingertips into the tapestry of your mind.

And for a brief moment you would actually believe that you have outsmarted her. That you are safe from her power. How funny.

You have lost track of her voice. You just nod and agree and follow the magical dance of her hands and fingers. Just look at one elegant finger as it moves closer and closer towards you. You can hear your own voice counting down for some reason. How nice and relaxing. Her finger now closer and closer to your forehead. And when it will finally touch, so sparkly sparkly behind your already closed eyelids, a flower will bloom inside your mind.

Sleep now. Sleep. Sleep for Mistress. You are safe. You no longer need to avoid her eyes. Maybe you will find even more truth and beauty inside them.

But let us start from the beginning once again. Take a deep breath and come back to me. Good boy.

On one hand, a finger is a rather mundane thing. After all, there is nothing very special or unique about it on the surface. We all have them. We all use them in our daily routine. I use my fingers right now to write this personal message to you. You will use yours to scroll through it and maybe to type and send me a reply. In a way, we use our fingers to make our minds and intellects touch and connect and absorb each others ideas and feelings. What a nice thought. Wouldn’t you agree?

On the other hand, it is quite easy for you to look behind the physical and the mundane, and to give wonderful and feminine meaning to something as simple as a finger. You can imagine a female finger and immediately and quite easily connect it with terms like elegant, slender, gentle, precious, beautiful, tender, warm, soft, skilled, compelling, fascinating and whatever word comes to your mind. It is not very difficult to do, and it feels very easy to transform the mundane nature of a finger into something much more complex and sublime. Such is the power of the mind. Such is the power of the male mind in search of enchantment.

And of course, a female finger can be adorned in every possible way and fashion. Beautiful rings and gemstones. A touch of colourful nail polish. Little sparkly stones embedded in the fingernails. Intricate and magical patterns painted on the skin. And of course elegant and feminine gloves in silk and satin and black lace and white lace. And more. If you think about all the different ways women can use to adorn their fingers, they are not so different from breasts and legs. The decoration attracts your senses and the patterns guide your thoughts, but what you really want to feel is warmth and connection and enchantment. And power.

Let us believe in magic for a brief interlude.

Imagine a beautiful witch waving her powerful fingers in front of your face to cast a spell. Elegant fingers. Slender und pure and white. Adorned with sparkling rings of emerald and sapphire. Maybe the witch is chanting a spell in rhyme.

Round and round my fingers go, feel my magic rise and flow. Fingertips inside your mind, soft and warm they weave and bind. Last resistance bound to cease, swiftly fall now to your knees. Feel how mind and fingers meet, find your place now at my feet.

Or something like that. If you don’t believe in magic, then it doesn’t have to be in rhyme. But such a nice mantra is very easy to remember that way, isn’t it? It’s very easy to imagine how the words are able to form a floating bubble of soft blue light inside yourself. Give it a try. I may ask later if you still remember the words.

But there is more. Think about it. What makes for example a crystal pendant or the fabric of a bra so very special to you? It is the object itself? The mere matter? Or is it in a way much more the true power of meaning behind them? Is it the idea of all the secret places these things are allowed to touch and absorb? Think about a pendant that is always resting in a special place. A bra that is always touching the warm skin beneath. Warm fabric. Warm crystal. What lies beneath.

Now keep that in mind and think again about female fingertips and their beautiful little secrets. They go places. They touch everything. Every day. They touch fragrant hair and skin. Soap and perfume. They touch all kinds of wonderful dresses and underwear and soft and silky fabric. They gently touch breasts and nipples. Oh yes, they usually do, because they have permission to do naughty things. And sometimes they even touch very special places. So close to arcane secrets and coloured rings of fire and light and pleasure. Connect and absorb. Maybe all of this leaves traces of pure energy, invisible sparks glowing on the fingertips of every woman. And later they are the very same fingers you will feel softly against your skin when you shake hands with a woman. They are the same fingers I use right now to type this message and to connect with your mind through streams of information. My fingers. Streams that carry power and energy from me to you. Again. What a nice thought.

And now it may become clear to you, why the idea of an outstretched female finger moving teasingly in tender circles and then touching the forehead of a man to send him spiralling down into lovely trance is one of the most deeply engraved elements of a male hypnofantasy. The finger is a symbol. It is the symbol of all the arcane secrets it has touched. It is a symbol of sparkling female essence in its purest form. The male forehead is the mystical border between the harsh outside world of appearances and reputation, where a man has to be manly, and the secret world inside where everything is soft and warm and craves enchantment. Her finger is enchantment. The place behind your forehead is the gentle soul that yearns for enchantment. Like a deep dark well that needs to be filled with essence. And when both worlds meet in a simple touch, true wonders can happen and her words flow into you. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep for Mistress. Do you understand now? Good.

Imagine for a moment how it would feel if female hands and fingers would have always been your most favorite sexual fantasy. If you would have grown up with a stronger and stronger and still growing awareness of the beauty and erotic power of the graceful motion of hands and fingers and their strong hypnotic spell. Still growing now with every word you read. With fantasies about beautiful rings sparkling on elegant fingers. With fantasies about the touch and scent of gloves in silk and satin and white lace and black lace. With the idea that intertwined fingers sharing warmth and power with each other are just like intertwined bodies and souls. Hands to worship. Hands for you to gently kiss to prove your desire to serve. Hands that will softly pat your head and tell you that you have been a good boy.

Imagine you are a young boy again. Holding hands with a sweet girl for the first time and feeling warmth and an electrifying sensation of power flowing from her to you. A feeling that has never left your mind since then. A little seed growing with time into a beautiful flower.

Growing up with the idea that the mere touch of a hand is a gateway into your mind and soul. Can you imagine it right now? Can you feel the gentle pull of the idea?

Considering all of this, it should be obvious to you why fingers play such an important role in hypnosis. Why they are able to touch you both outside and inside. They play such an important part in so many techniques and in every sweet little dream and hypnofantasy. If you say that eyes or breasts or swinging pendants are more important than please think again. Think about fingers. Fingers that find the flow of energy inside your body. Fingers that gently massage pressure points to send waves of relaxation to cleanse your mind. Fingers that touch your forehead to trigger a trance deepener and then so much more. Invisible sparks and circles of light behind your closed eyelids. Fingers that touch you under your chin and gently lift up your head to make you gaze helplessly into her eyes. Fingers that move in little circles to weave a spell. Fingers that snap. And snap again. And again. And every snap intensifies her words and her will within you. Helplessly. Twisted around her little finger.

You can of course also imagine how easy it would be to follow my index finger with your eyes as it moves back and forth and around in little circles. Deep breath in. And out. Just focus and go deeper. The closer my finger moves to your eyelids, the heavier and sleepier they become. The heavier and sleepier they become, the deeper you go. Deeper and deeper until you feel the soft touch of my fingertip on your forehead. A warm ripple like a spark of bliss from deep places of arcane secrets that goes right into your well and mind as you keep listening. Deeper and deeper and SLEEP. And while you feel the warm touch of my fingertip drawing little relaxing circles on your forehead, you will continue to go even deeper with every finished circle.

And you are aware that every skilled female hypnotist could use a harmless little handshake to influence and guide you. After all, we are socially conditioned to accept any handshake that is offered to us. Never underestimate the power you give to a woman when you accept her handshake. Never underestimate the spell of some truly skilled Ericksonian handshake. The touch of her palm and fingers in some unexpected way might even be the last thing you would consciously feel before dropping down so deep, so very deep, so deep into trance for her. Would you dream about her hand reaching inside you?

How would you suspect her? How would you resist? If a woman would start swinging a crystal pendant in front of your eyes, you would maybe notice that something strange is going on, and you would try to resist (emphasis on “try”). But would you ever refuse to shake hands with a beautiful woman? Especially if she has encouraged you with some special words that you would really love to feel the warmth of her hand and all the secret places inside her fingertips. And then she gets you. Sorry.

She could shake your hand in such a skilled way that all your conscious awareness would probably simply slip away into nothingness and trance before ever finishing the handshake. Or she could do it in a more subtle way. Maybe the handshake would feel just a bit strange and different to you, with her fingers curled up inside your hand, gently rubbing your palm in a certain pattern or applying soft pressure to certain points of your skin. And after such a handshake, you would feel very happy and obliged to pay some special attention to her wishes. Really. Trust me. Maybe it has happened to you before.

Imagine you have returned from your wonderful trance and she tells you with a wicked smile that she can drain away all strength and energy from your mind, body and limbs just by touching your forehead again with her index finger. Imagine how it would feel if she just steps forward and touches your forehead again. Just a soft touch of her fingertip. Her very special fingertip. Elegant and slender. Beautiful and warm and precious. And you can feel all of your strength leaving your body. Arms feeling so heavy. Legs feeling so very soft and wobbly. Mind feeling so numb and sleepy. And your legs cannot stand anymore. Her finger is pushing you down to your knees with a most gentle touch. Can you imagine how it would feel if a finger on your forehead becomes the most powerful force in your mind, as it drains away all your resistance and power? Can you imagine how it would truly feel to give in to your weakness? You have to fall to your knees. You have to kneel before her. Good boy.

To finish this little exercise and to reward you for your attention, let me tell you a little witchy fantasy which may or may not remind you of your own schooldays. If you absolutely refuse to believe in magic, feel free to use your imagination to subtly change this story into a tale about powerful hypnosis. I know you can do it. It pleases me to give fire to your own imagination. Or just enjoy the story as it is and become part of my dreams and words. Your choice.

Imagine there is a strange girl in your class. I will not describe her to you in detail, but she wears glasses and some people say she is a real witch with magical powers. Strange tales and rumours surround her ever since she came to your school. You know her name. You want to hear tales about her? Of course you do.

Once there was this guy who accidently spilled some sticky orange juice on her dress. Not much harm done, but he refused to apologize and said it was her own fault for standing in his way. Big mistake. She made him gaze deeply into her eyes while moving her hands and fingers in intricate ways in front of his face and body. She chanted in Latin and in ryhme. Then she told him with a confident smile that what he has done to her will now come back to him threefold and intensified. He will get soaked three times—first muddy, then cold and finally white. And there is absolutely no use in trying to escape because his fate is bound to her will until the spell is fulfilled. This is my will, so shall it be... Everybody was amused about her childish belief in magic.

But the tale does not end here. When the boy left school for lunch, he tried to cross a construction site next to the school building as a shortcut. Something he had never done before, but the irresistable idea had just entered his mind. He slipped on a muddy path and fell into a brown and dirty pool of water. He climbed out and went back to school to clean himself in the bathroom. For some odd reason, he paid no attention to the “out of order” sign on a broken faucet and it sprayed him head to toes with icy water. And when the guy later tried to leave school again through the main exit, the janitor standing on a ladder there suddenly felt dizzy and accidently emptied a full can of white paint onto this poor guy’s head.

True story. You know a guy who knows a guy who knew this guy’s cousin.

And then there were of course the three mean rich girls who once accused her of being a weirdo and a bedwetter. The latter for no reason, it was probably the meanest insult they could come up with. Tell you what. Bad choice of words. A few minutes later, you heard her chanting in class just a few seats behind you, and when you curiously turned around, you saw that she was again moving her beautiful right hand in intricate circular and wavelike motions while gazing intently at the three girls who were oblivious of her attention. Her hand was performing a magical dance just for them. You also noticed that her left hand was gently rubbing the lower part of her own belly through the translucent white fabric of her summer dress. Just gently rubbing herself. First slowly and in small circles, but quickly faster and faster. She seemed to enjoy herself immensely. You can still remember her words which floated to you in a melodious whisper.

“My puppets three, you cannot flee. My puppets three, you need to pee. You cannot flee. You need to pee. All the water swells and hurls, make it drain like little girls. So warm and wet, just let it go, but little girls can’t stop the flow. So easy now to cross the line, to leak and spill feels sweet and fine. Pressure. Pressure. Pressure. No more need to quench your thirst, may all wells within you burst. Rising now and rising still. Full bladders swell. Full bladders fill. Full bladders leak and twitch and spill. Contract, relax, release, obey my will. Contract, relax, release and spill. This is my will. So shall it be...”

She moved both her hands to her belly and started to squeeze and tickle herself. More and more. You were extremely fascinated and transfixed. Her words. Her song. Her hands. Her fingers. And all of a sudden, all three mean girls jumped up with a terrified scream and their fate took hold of them. And the flow just didn’t stop. On and on it went, draining and spilling, as if they had been drinking too much water all day. They ran out ashamed and red-faced and punished.

That night when you were alone in your bed, all of this came back to you and flooded your mind with images. Her three puppets. Her hands and her fingers. Her spell. Fingers weaving threads of magic. Her hands rubbing her belly. Hands to worship. Hands for you to gently kiss to prove your desire to serve. Hands that will softly pat your head and tell you that you have been a good boy. Your lips started to move involuntarily to repeat her words. Rise. Twitch. Swell. Spill. Rise. Twitch. Swell. Spill.

And then you found the right words. Words like keys. Words to unlock her power within you. Your own lips moved, but it was her voice in your mind that spoke.

This is my will. So shall it be...

And only moments later, your thoughts exploded into the most powerful orgasm of your young life without even physically touching yourself. All it needed was the soft and warm caress of her words and her invisible fingertips inside your mind.

And so it went on. There was for example this other girl who always complained about her small breasts, until one day a strange growth spurt hit her while she was standing in front of class... Or the guy who was always bragging a lot about his superiority until all of a sudden the strangest of quirks started to grow inside his mind...

I’m sure you can remember other incidents. Other spells. Other enchantments. Other examples of her power. Feel free to do so. Feel free to imagine and tell me about it. And the years went by. You loved her. You feared her. You worshipped her. And quite often you asked yourself if all of this was maybe just wishful dreaming and imagination. After all, real magic does not exist, does it? You became aware that she had noticed your fascination and curiosity and it gave you such a strange feeling. But you were safe.

Until that fateful day (the first day of the rest of your enchanted life) when you found yourself having detention together with her. Alone with her. But why? You could not even explain to yourself how it had happened. You were usually always such a good and polite boy, but this morning you suddenly felt a twinge of great annoyance with the world and especially with your history teacher. And when he even dared to ask you a question, you simply blurted out a very, very rude reply. All of a sudden, your annoyance evaporated like a whisp of smoke, but it was already too late. You were in trouble.

And so you found yourself in the detention room. Together with her. Alone with her. What was she even doing here? She usually got away with everything and most glassy-eyed teachers never paid much attention to what she did.

She was sitting a few seats in front of you. You were watching her cautiously for a while now, the weird tingly feeling in your stomach getting stronger and stronger.

But for a while, you seemed to be safe. All her attention was focussed on the stern female physics teacher supervising the detention room. At first she was drawing just another bunch of strange symbols on sheets of paper, her fingers softly touching her golden pen like some sort of magic wand transforming her writing into pure magic. It sparkled in the sunlight. Then she started to play with something like a polished glass marble, moving her hands like some fortune teller over a crystal ball. Then she took the marble and to your embarrassment she put it into her cleavage and started to rub it softly against her own skin. Up and down the gentle curve and deeper still. You heard her chant and whisper something like “...girls are lovely, girls are lovely, girls are sooo lovely...” and then much more. But she was not yet looking at you. All her attention was focussed on the female physics teacher and while one hand still rubbed the glass marble up and down inside her cleavage, the other hand started to make enchanting gestures towards the teacher. This is my will. So shall it be...

And within less than one minute, the stern teacher suddenly got up, excused herself with a shaky voice and a strange expression on her face and practically fled from the room. Your eyes followed her to the door with a worried look. Maybe she wasn’t feeling well? But when you turned, the girl was standing right in front of you. Confident smile. She just nodded in the general direction where the teacher had fled.

“Do not worry about her. My magical fingertips have touched the inside of her mind just a little bit. They not only made her feel very aroused and very much in love with her own body and underwear, they also tied a nice little knot into her ability to reach climax. Oh, the knot will unravel itself after a while, but we can be sure that she will not come back from the bathroom for quite some time...”

She moved a step closer and closer again and leaned forward and the soft shadows of her cleavage became a deep well of mysteries inside your mind and you could feel her flowery perfume invading your senses.

“But let us talk about you and me. I know you love me. I know you love my powers. I know you want to become one with them. And I know you especially love this...”

And then she wiggled her fingers in front of your face, elegant, slender, gentle, precious, beautiful, tender, warm, soft, skilled, compelling, fascinating. She moved the soft palm of her hand in front of your eyes and then it was resting warmly on your forehead. You felt a gentle breeze and her fingertips touched your soul. Warm summer light filtered through her almost translucent hand. It was a soft, orange twilight and it reminded you of a moonlit night of wonderful and relaxing sleep. And then you heard her voice inside your mind, as if her power was speaking to you through the touch of her hands.

Round and round my fingers go, feel my magic rise and flow. Fingertips inside your mind, soft and warm they weave and bind. Last resistance bound to cease, swiftly fall now to your knees. Feel how mind and fingers meet, find your place now at my feet.

And a floating bubble of her soft blue light inside yourself became finally one with your own thoughts. Releasing her will into you. My will into you. The whole universe skipped forward and everything else was lost in a haze of soft shapes and deep sleep. Your journey has just begun and your fantasy will complete it...

What a nice little story. I’m quite sure you enjoyed reading all of this and now you want to give me something in return.

So here is what I want you to do for a couple of days: I want you to pay just a bit more attention to the hands and fingers of women you meet in your daily life. I want you to feel a bit of a special sensation and tingle whenever you shake hands with a woman and feel the warmth of her hand and energy against your skin. I want you to realize the power of her fingertips and the little invisible sparks they carry from touching arcane secrets. I want you to fantasize about fingertips touching your forehead to bridge the gap between female essence and the well inside you that needs to be filled. And if you like, just if you like, I want you to pay a compliment to a woman in your life by telling her that she has beautiful hands. This will feel especially good and rewarding. Good boy.

This is my will. So shall it be...

snap

We have reached the end of our lesson for today. Feeling all awake now. Feeling refreshed and enhanced and so wonderful. Thank you for your attention.

Love,
Goddess Nova