The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

For some reason, John woke up feeling exactly the opposite of the way he’d been feeling when he’d gone to bed. His world seemed grey, no colour in it at all. Deciding it was the residue from the depression of his past marriage, he’d ignited again by going out to dinner with his new work partner, as well as by the way she had responded to him-not to mention the way he had responded to her.

She was already seated at her desk opposite when he walked in and sat down. He put his briefcase down beside his chair and got out the file he had begun on the strange documents he had received.

At once, he remembered the feelings of empathy he’d had the day before he had discovered his brother had been reported missing so many years ago. It was one of foreboding, of dread, but he quickly contained them before any visible sign presented themselves for scrutiny by the calm-faced, smiling blonde woman who sat opposite him.

‘Good morning,’ she said cheerily. ‘Sleep well?’

He looked at her briefly, enough to notice what she wore—a bright blue dress and a lighter blue top. Christ, it almost seems too bright for the world I’ve been looking at since I woke up, he thought.

‘Fine,’ he said, and then busied re-reading the contents of the file in front of him.She was silent for a few minutes. Then she spoke.

‘Is anything wrong?’ She asked quietly.

‘No,’ he replied without looking up. ‘Let’s get to work. Okay with you?’

Again, she was silent for a few minutes before answering.

‘Sure,’ she said.

Then he heard her rustling some papers.

‘Where do we go from here?’ She said suddenly.

A two-edged question, that one, he thought. Christ, why can’t women speak about and centre on just one idea at a time, rather than say things that can be taken two ways, depending upon how argumentative I want to be, or, how much sleep I’ve gotten the night before?

As usual, his best form of defence was offence. He raised his gaze to hers, clasped his hands together and sat back in his chair, breathing deeply. As he exhaled a long, tired, drawn-out sigh, he spoke from his heart and head at the same time.

‘You know, not long ago,’ he told her quietly, ‘I made a deal with the rest of the world. The deal was that the rest of the world could live as it liked, as long as it allowed me to live as I liked, and the deal was struck. I’m very happy now, being who I really am, as often as I can. As to how others deal with me being simply who I am, is totally and completely, their problem. Now, as to your question, where do we go from here? I would like to get to know who you really are, if you, in fact, know yourself. So, what exactly did you mean by your question?’

While he had been speaking, her jaw had dropped and her frown had deepened as he had continued. Her jaw had set hard by the time he’d finished. He sat and he waited, just watching her beautiful face and blue almond eyes staring hard at him. He didn’t care and couldn’t care less how she took it. As he’d just said, that was her problem as to how she dealt with him being who he was.

After a few, long minutes it was her turn. He watched her take a breath and sit back in her chair, her eyes never leaving his for an instant. Then her face lost its frown, but not its seriousness as she spoke.

‘Yes,’ she said, which was not a lot for such a large breath, he mused.

Then she got up from her chair and disappeared into the women’s rest room.

Without looking at him when she returned, she sat down opposite, gazing at him and smiling as if nothing had happened. Her face seemed cheery enough, and her eyes contained no residue of resentment from how she might have interpreted him being just him in the way and manner he had spoken to her, as well as what he had actually said.

‘Do you have any research you’d like me to do for this story?’ She asked normally.

You’re a cool one, he thought-he’d have to give her that much.

‘You can find everything you can about missing men and women in this city,’ he answered. ‘Use the experience you were telling me about yesterday.’

With that said, she got straight up from her desk, saying she’d be back in an hour or so, or maybe a bit later. Then she bounced out of the office, leaving him with yet another guilt trip over the way he’d spoken to her.

Nevertheless, he sighed-he could live with it. He was used to it, after twenty-six years of marriage. But she hadn’t returned within the hour, or even by lunchtime. In fact, she didn’t return until late in the afternoon. He had begun to think she might have resigned and gone looking for a new job.

When she sat down opposite him carrying a bundle of files and dropped them heavily onto her desk, she just glanced down at her watch and grimaced.

‘What’s the matter?’ He said, looking at the sheer numbers of the files on her desk. He was curious and interested at the same time, and, possibly just a tiny bit relieved that she hadn’t gone looking for another job. Her hand went to her stomach and pressed lightly as she answered him.

‘I got so carried away, I forgot to eat,’ she smiled, taking a deep breath and exhaling loudly.

Another guilt trip, he sighed dryly to himself. He decided to say what he had rehearsed, anyway. What the hell? ‘I’ll pick you up at seven tonight and make everything better,’ he smiled at her. ‘You might even find that I’m not the monster I seem to be whenever I’m around you?’ Then he smiled again. ‘We can go through those tomorrow. You’ve done enough for today. Call it a day and go home.’

Her face look stunned for a brief few seconds, then she smiled.

‘I’ll open my door for you at seven,’ she said with steel in her eyes, ‘and you might even find that I’m not playing mind games with you. After you eat the meal I’ll cook, we can look through the files over a drink. I’m sure you’ll find them very interesting.’

He just looked at her. She was quick. He had to give her that. Then he smiled.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll carry them out to your car.’

They both got up and left the office. He grunted when picking up the files that she handled as if they’d been as light as a feather. They were definitely not light. Watching her as she drove away, waving and smiling, he leaned against the side of his car and waved back, but he didn’t smile and he didn’t really know why. In fact, he did not even remember driving home.

For some reason she had stayed on his mind, right up until the time he rang the front doorbell of her home. She looked beautiful when the door opened and she continued to look that way to him throughout a sumptuous dinner of steak and eggs and chips she’d prepared. And she still looked beautiful to him when they settled down into the double couch behind the large pile of files that was sitting on the small table in front of them.

She had made them each a Rum and Coke. He just sat there letting the food settle, and sipping his drink while she did the same thing. He felt comfortable in her company and didn’t feel the need to talk, just to fill up an otherwise very comfortable and natural, easy silence. Then he sighed. She turned to look directly at him.

‘You don’t relax very often, do you?’ She asked, making it sound more of a statement of fact, than a question.

He smiled.

‘Too much time walking down memory lane, I guess. Trying to remember where I went wrong, so I don’t make the same mistakes again.’

He sipped his drink again.

‘I understand,’ she said. Something in the tone of her voice made him believe she did, ‘but it’s easy to relax,’ she continued quietly, ‘to take time out and just let go; to let everything happen exactly as it wants to, without trying to make anything happen, not trying to stop anything from happening and just allowing your mind and your body to wind down and relax, exactly as it wants to, naturally, easily, and just feel everything melt down and let yourself go.’

He was tired and had easily imagined everything he had heard, just looking idly at the opposite wall of her lounge room as she had been speaking. By the time she’d finished, his eyes felt as heavy as lead. He was about to tell her that he felt like a cat with a full stomach, wanting to do nothing, but curl up and sleep when she began talking again. There was something very relaxing about her voice. It was very easy to listen to. He had decided that long ago.

‘In fact,’ she began quietly again, ‘I’m sure you’d find it very relaxing now to just lower your hand and place the drink down on the table. It’s okay to relax and let go even more and settle even deeper down into the lounge, even more deeply relaxed, even more natural and more comfortable in letting go, just allowing everything to happen exactly as it wants to.’

He was aware of his hand placing the glass down on the table. It seemed like a good idea, and the glass did seem heavy, he reflected. It did feel relaxing to just settle even more deeply down into the couch and listen to her soothing voice. So he did, and, she was right. He relaxed even more so.

Her lounge room and the furniture then seemed to fade away as she continued to speak softly and soothingly. Each word she spoke seemed to relax him a little bit more, he thought interestingly, almost like he was being hypnotised.

Then suddenly, with the thought of that word in his mind, his senses moved instantly into alert mode. His eyes flew open. He straightened up in the lounge chair, tensed and reached for his drink. Had she been trying to hypnotise him? He thought quickly. Christ. What a thought. But before he could turn and look at her to ask, she spoke.

‘That’s how a lot of the missing men and women met their fate,’ she said. ‘They were hypnotised in a fashion similar to what I was just doing with you. Did you feel yourself losing it?’

‘Yes,’ he answered, relieved that she had said what she had. ‘Is that what you discovered in your research this afternoon?’

‘Maybe? It’s all in these files. Maybe some sort of cult,’ she answered, ‘but they most probably used drugs as well.’

‘Sick people,’ he told her, not believing at all that a cult had sent him the large white envelope for a second.

‘Twisted is more like it,’ she said softly, ‘but you’ve seen how easily I could influence you and all you had was a full stomach. Imagine how much more influenced you’d be if you’d had a skin-full of alcohol or been given drugs without you even knowing it?’

‘Yes,’ he agreed easily.

‘Feel like going through these files now or just relaxing?’ She grinned at him.

He still felt very relaxed, even though he now had his wits about himself again. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t come to his senses by himself?

‘How far would you have gone in hypnotising me?’ He smiled at her, draining the last of the drink from his glass.

She drained her own glass before answering him, then stood up and held out her hand to take his empty glass. He handed it to her.

‘Neither of us will ever know now, will we?’ She chuckled, turning on her heels and walking through to the kitchen to mix some fresh drinks.

When she returned and handed him his drink, he smiled curiously up at her. She sat down beside him and settled.

‘Are you knowledgeable about mind control or hypnosis?’ He asked her.

‘Not at all.’ she said, sipping her drink and shaking her head. ‘Only what I remembered reading and from a demonstration at a seminar one evening. But I’d say the people who are using it to snare these people and abduct them are experts at it in one way or the other.’

‘Yes,’ he agreed, sipping his drink.

She did the same. He intended to find out as much as he could about it himself, if necessary. Maybe one day soon, he smiled inwardly-he’d give her the same demonstration she’d just given him?

Suddenly, he inhaled a strong waft of her perfume. His body hardened instantly. He couldn’t believe it. One minute, it wasn’t and the next, it was. He smiled as he crossed his legs and took another long sip of his drink. Then he shook his head in amazement. It seemed that the more he thought of it happening, the harder he became, and his smile simply broadened. Boy, was he ever in a bad way.

‘Everything alright?’ She asked curiously.

‘Fine,’ he replied. ‘I’m normal. It’s nice to know.’

Then he smiled again as he drained the last of his second drink and watched her do the same. She seemed to be pacing him, on purpose or not, he didn’t know, and didn’t really care.

‘Normal?’ She queried, as she rose to get them each their third drink, of which the idea hadn’t yet received his approval.

‘You had to be there,’ he chuckled as she took his glass and turned.

‘I was,’ she laughed softly back to him over her shoulder.

Then she walked through to the kitchen. He laughed aloud.

God, she was quick, he reminded himself-a mind like a steel trap.

He was still chuckling when she returned and handed him third fresh drink for the evening, which, caution told him, was about his limit for the night, where the common sense and rationality he wanted would continue to reign supreme.

She smiled broadly at him as she sat down beside him in the deep, leather lounge. He sipped his fresh drink. It felt good and very relaxing. His body had decided to co-operate and not embarrass him any longer by hardening with each thought of it hardening. It now became docile and manageable once again.

‘So what do you really think about having a new partner, and a woman at that?’ She asked, smiling.

‘I’m living and learning with it right at this very moment,’ he replied smiling. ‘I think I’ll survive.’

‘But will I?’ She grinned as her lips covered the rim of her glass. ‘That’s the main question.’

He chuckled. ‘That’s your problem,’ he answered, smiling into his drink, then sipping again. ‘You’ll either deal with me, or you won’t. It’s as simple as that. I just like being who I am. I’m getting used to it and it feels good.’

‘You must have been lost for a long time,’ she said.

‘I was,’ was all he could say.

He knew she was dead right. He had been lost for all of most of his married life: living it as what he was to his wife and most other people, not who he was to himself or anybody. But now all that had changed, for the better.

He again became aware of her perfume assaulting his nostrils. It was subtle, but had a vengeful mission on his senses. He breathed it deeply to the bottom of his lungs and felt himself harden instantly as he did so. He chuckled.

‘What?’ She asked.

‘You had to be there,’ he repeated the statement from earlier.

Then, to his absolute amazement she glanced purposely down at his groin, then back into his smiling eyes and said softly:

‘I am,’ she grinned. Then she glanced quickly away and sipped her drink.

Jesus, he thought, amazed at the woman he now had for a partner-what kind of partner is she, a mind reader-a body reader?

He laughed aloud and so did she for several minutes. He didn’t know whether or not he liked the way the night was heading, but he didn’t feel like going home at that point right then. Besides, being in her company was very natural and easy for him, something he hadn’t felt with a woman for a very long time. No pressure to do or be anything other than himself, who he really was. It was a very nice change. He let his right brain say what came out next without consciously scrutinising his choice of words.

‘Is it just me?’ He asked, smiling and taking another short sip.

She turned to look at him directly, her blue almond-shaped eyes deep and milky. They seemed to penetrate right down to his very male soul.

‘No,’ she replied softly, then looked away and settled down further into the lounge.

He sobered a little with her answer for some reason, and then glanced down at his watch. It was ten thirty and tomorrow looked like it was going to be a very busy day.

‘This has been a very nice evening for me,’ he said, draining the glass of its fiery contents. He didn’t trust himself to stay in her easy-going and very comfortable company any longer. He put the glass down gently on the table.

‘For me too,’ she replied, placing her glass down without draining it.

‘Big day tomorrow,’ he said, straightening up in the chair and uncrossing his legs.

She sat up as well and turned to look at him. Her face was unreadable as he glanced quickly into her eyes. He already felt guilty about leaving when it was so obvious they were both enjoying the situation as it had been developing throughout the evening.

He stood up slowly. She did the same. Then he turned and began to walk toward the door. She followed. At the door, she reached past him and opened it. He opened it the rest of the way. She moved beside him, the smell of her perfume doing its usual job on the rigidity of his anatomy.

He grinned and shook his head slowly as he turned to say goodnight, hoping she didn’t glance downward. She didn’t. She looked at him directly and smiled. Her blue eyes twinkled in their alcoholic shining.

‘Thank you for giving me the chance to get to know you better,’ she smiled.

‘Thanks for the dinner,’ he replied.

She stepped suddenly forward; close, yet did not touch him with any part of her body.

‘You may kiss me goodnight now,’ she said softly, holding his gaze in her own.

She’s got me again, he thought, amused-not that he minded.

He leaned down toward her, his hands reaching normally to lightly grip her shoulders as his lips closed over hers. They were moist and warm and yielding, and when her hands went around his waist, he felt the full impact of her body, the centre of it seemingly bent on applying firm pressure to that part of his own that had responded so well to her perfume.

He enjoyed the experience of their first kiss until he felt he was falling into a deep abyss of pleasure and warmth. Then he pulled gently away and released her. Her arms, however, remained around his waist for a few, long seconds, as did her body stay right where it was while she held his gaze. Then her arms slowly returned to her sides. As she stepped back and away from him, a slow smile spread from one side of her face to the other.

‘I had to be there,’ she said with a soft smile in her voice. ‘And I was.’ Then she added with a grin, ‘and, it was very nice.’

He smiled, knowing exactly what she meant.

‘Good night,’ he said, then turned and walked to his car with the feeling of her eyes boring two warm holes into his back. His mind felt suddenly defensive against the feelings of his body and the commitment that they might encourage, were he to give them full and free reign. He didn’t think he was ready for that, not yet, at least, anyway. Maybe tomorrow? He thought, starting the car and driving away from a very enjoyable situation.