The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Nervous? Damn right he was nervous. The culmination of so much dreaming (both the day- and nocturnal varieties), followed by so much studying and planning, was now at hand; and still it all could go embarassingly wrong, even disastrously wrong as far as his future was concerned . . . hell, his present as well. If his ego weren’t so prone to deep and lasting injury from the most innocuous of blows, he might have done this long ago; or taken a different tack entirely. But, thinking about it, he rather doubted there had ever been any real alternative course available to achieve what he so much desired: Carol Hurlimann.

He first met her years ago in High School. She was so beautiful and he was so shy. They became friends, which was something that meant a lot to her, particularly as so many other guys were hitting on her all the time. They shared a kind of naïve curiosity about the world which led to long conversations, in person in her mother’s apartment or on the phone. He savored every moment thay were together, her every word to him. He wanted her so badly, but his natural reticence and total inexperience in matters sexual stopped him from telling her except in the lightest of ways when a conversational opening allowed it. Anyway, a “relationship” wasn’t what she would ever want with him. So he accepted the crumbs of delight from the table of her friendship.

They’d parted after High School: different Colleges in different states. He kept in touch with long, subtly (he thought) composed letters; she responded at lesser length and frequency. Then after College, she went to Europe for a couple of years; he went to work.

But now she was back in “town” and, regardless of the experiences and always short-term relationships he’d had in the last few years, he knew SHE was the one, the ONLY ONE he really wanted. They had had dinner a few times since her return; very pleasant but slightly distant and stilted. He felt he had changed in the intervening time, become more at ease with himself—a bit—and less timid. But it was now glaringly obvious to him that still he was not, and never would be, anything other than a “mate” to her, even if occasionally a soulmate.

And it just wasn’t enough anymore.

So he set out to have her, whatever her wishes in the matter might be. After all, she only needed to experience his sensual, loving, yes sexy side to realize what she was missing. Or so he convinced himself. In any case, he had to find a way to get through her carapace of indifference to his needs and desires which was so conspicuously present in her every word, her every gesture, her every . . . everything. He’d tried solicitous attention to her; he’d tried drink; he’d tried patience . . .

Now he’d try hypnosis.

He read books, he watched videos, he searched the internet for anything that could help him in his quest. He attended every performance of a stage hypnotist who happened to be performing locally for a few days. He knew intellectually that he was ready to do this thing, to use Carol’s own inquisitive, ingenious mind against her . . . and for him. But he remained apprehensive, in fact jumpy. The first time he set out to test her suggestibility, using the means he had gleaned from his researches, he simply bottled out at what he percieved to be the slightest sign of unresponsiveness.

But he wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop. If she was his obsession, she was well worth being obsessed about: a face he thought of as angelically mischievous, framed by a main of flaxen hair (her pride and joy, he knew), and a body which he imagined from the clear evidence before him was in a class with the exalted Sophia’s or Raquel’s. Yes, he was palpably a “breast man”.

Face, hair, and body alike were now ensconced next to him on his couch.

They’d been out to a movie, one of those “thrillers” with a bit of sex thrown in for titillation value; then back to his apartment for some wine and conversation. In the past, he encouraged her to drink deep and long, hoping to come in under her temporarily defunct radar before she knew what was happening; but nothing had happened, except maybe her falling asleep. Now he made sure she had a couple of glasses of Cabernet but no more. He wanted her relaxed, not comatose.

She gave him the opening he needed, as from their past conversations he knew she would. Her work in the University’s English lit. department was not all she had hoped it would be.

“I’m just so tired of working for an idiot like Roger. I do all the research, he puts it in his latest book or monograph and ends up with all the credit. If I get any more stressed, I’m afraid I’ll do something or say something really, really counter-productive as far as my career goes.”

He was ready; he knew he was ready. “Carol, you knew when you went in that you were the junior in that department; it’s just gonna take a bit more time before you’re allowed to show what you can do. I know it’ll come, because I know you’ll make it come.”

“I guess I have to believe that; otherwise what’s the point?”

Now. “I have a suggestion. I know it’ll help you, because it certainly has helped me. We all get stressed out, not only at work, but with our relationships, or money worries, or whatever. I’ve learned a technique to just relax and let all the shit pass right by me. It’s gotten me through a lot of very stressful situations, believe me.” Please believe me.

“What, some yoga thing? Meditation? What?”

She was interested. Now he had to sell it to her. " No, no. Nothing like that. Just a really simple means of telling yourself to relax and not get upset over whatever it is that’s getting to you. I think the only way you’ll appreciate it is if I show you how. It’ll only take afew minutes, but I guarantee you’ll use it again and again from now on. OK?” I hope I don’t look as tense as I feel at this moment.

He could see her thinking about it . . . . but not for long. “OK, you show me. Anything’s worth a try. What do I do?”

You give yourself to me body and soul from ever and ever. “That’s the great thing about it. You don’t have to DO anything. Just sit back and get comfortable. It would probably help if you uncrossed your legs. Great. Now, just close your eyes.” Nothing to do with evil old hypnotism is it, my dear? “This time I’ll tell you how to let yourself relax in the most stressful conditions; after that, you’ll be able to do it yourself.”

There she was, leaning back on the sofa with her eyes closed as he had instructed. He wished he was as relaxed as she already seemed to be; but instead he was very excited, already feeling his cock stirring to life.

Here we go.

“Carol, I just want you to listen carefully to what I say; listen to what I say. Your eyes are closed and you’re feeling comfortable and relaxed, thinking of nothing, nothing but what I say. Your eyes are comfortably closed and you’re thinking of nothing but what I say. Your arms and legs feel heavy, your arms and legs feel heavy and relaxed. Your whole body feels relaxed. Your whole body is relaxed. The muscles of your face, your arms, and your legs are relaxed. Your whole body is relaxed.”

Of course, as a beginner at this, he couldn’t tell if this were working like the books and videos promised it would, but atleast she hadn’t opened her eyes, got up, slapped him hard, and stormed out. That must be a good sign.

Don’t stop, gradually lower your voice, and move to the next stage.

“It feels like you’re traveling backward into darkness, backward into darkness; and as you do you are more and more relaxed, more and more comfortable. As you go backward and backward into the darkness, you are listening only to my voice, only to my voice, thinking of nothing, concentrating only on my voice, listening only to my voice. You’re feeling comfortable and relaxed as you go backward and backward into darkness.

“ You begin to feel drowsy, very drowsy. You’re thinking of nothing but my voice. You’re feeling comfortable and relaxed, comfortable and relaxed, breathing regularly and deeply, regularly and deeply, thinking of nothing but the sound of my voice, breathing regularly and deeply.”

Her breathing seemed to be exactly as he’d indicated, and—if it wasn’t his imagination—her face looked more relaxed somehow and her mouth was a bit open. Yes, yes, yes . . . . keep going and concentrate on what you’re saying and how you’re saying it.

“And now you’re going into a deep, sound, comfortable sleep, breathing regularly and deeply, regularly and deeply. Your sleep is getting deeper, deeper, deeper, and as you continue backward into the darkness your sleep is becoming deeper and deeper, deeper and even deeper. You feel comfortable and relaxed, listening only to my voice, breathing regularly and deeply, going into a deep, deep sleep, deeper and deeper, deeper and deeper.

“You are in a deep, sound sleep, a deep, sound sleep . . . sleep . . . sleep . . . sleep. And as I count from 10 down to 0, from 10 to 0, your sleep will get even deeper, even deeper. 10 . . . deeper and deeper . . . 9 . . . still deeper, much deeper.” He wanted to skip some numbers and get to the end, but he kept to the “script” until “zero . . . deeply, deeply, deeply asleep.”

Carol’s head had fallen forward onto her chest. He wanted to cry out in joy and triumph. But he just stared at her for afew moments. Then he walked over to her, lifted her arm up about a foot above her lap, and let go. It fell down like a rag doll’s and Carol made no sound or movement.

He had to hear her hypnotized voice.

“Carol, can you hear me?”

A short but agonizing pause.

“Yes.”

Oh . . . my . . . God! She WAS hypnotized; maybe only lightly now, but he’d take her as deep as she could go, as deep as she had to go for his purposes tonight. He’d planned it all out a hundred times. The hard part was over. Stick to the plan and she would do whatever he wanted her to do and enjoy it as well (that was only fair).

He deepened her trance as he had learned to do, testing her again at each stage. She found she couldn’t open her eyes, no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t remember her name, even when he asked her if she was named Carol Hurlimann. She couldn’t get up from the sofa because her legs just couldn’t support her at all. Her right arm became completely numb, so that when he stuck a pin into it—first very hesitantly, then with some force—she showed no reaction at all, neither startled nor in pain. He had her raise her head up to normal level and open her eyes (what a glorious moment that was for him) so she could pet the cat she now saw so clearly on her lap. Finally, after all the trance-deepening ploys he could think of, he had her open her eyes again to find herself alone in her own bedroom. If she responded to both positive and negative “hallucinations”, he had her exactly where he wanted her to be. She did and she was.

Careful, he cautioned himself. Slow and easy does it. He knew a crude attempt would fail.

“Carol, we’re going to play a little game now. I promise you you’ll find it very enjoyable. You’ll play with me, won’t you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s wonderful . . . Now I want you to think back to the most exciting sexual experience you’ve ever had, the one that you enjoyed the most. When you’ve done this, I want you to say ‘I have it’. Think back now and say ‘I have it’ when you’re ready.”

Only a few seconds passed before she said—with startling clarity—“I have it”.

“Good. That’s very good. Now you’re going to experience just how vivid memories can be in your deep trance state. I want you to remember this most exciting sexual experience in detail, starting from the beginning, when you first started feeling aroused. I want you to feel exactly the feelings of arousal that you did then . . . and I want you to tell me what is happening as you experience it. . . Start now.”

At first, Carol showed no outward signs of excitement. This made him very nervous again, of course. Then she suddenly said “We’re kissing . . . . he’s a great kisser . . . . he’s touching my breasts through my dress . . . . I can feel his dick getting hard . . .”

Not only his, he thought!

She was beginning to move around a bit and her mouth was open a bit and her breathing started to become a bit heavy. He was more than a bit ecstatic. It WAS working.

Just then she slid from a sitting position to lie on her back on the couch and soon after said, breathily and not quite so clearly as before, “His hand . . . . oh god, his hand . . . his fingers . . .”

“How do you feel, Carol?”

“Hot . . . I’m so hot . . .”

“Carol, listen to me carefully. I want you to continue this very vivid memory until you’re close to an orgasm . . . close to an orgasm, but not quite there yet. I want you to tell me immediately as soon as you reach that state. When you’re there, I want you to say ‘I’m there’. Do you understand?”

“Yessssss . . . .” She was very excited already. The way she hips were jerking softly in rhythm told him that.

Sooner than he expected, she burst out with “I’m there . . . I’m there . . . I’m there . . .", each time more urgent than the last.

He had to be quick. “Carol, listen to me. You’re coming back to the present now, but you’re going to remain as sexually excited as you are now. You won’t be in your vivid memory any more, but you stay terribly excited. You haven’t had your orgasm. You haven’t had your release. But whatever you do, you can’t come on your own now. You’re desperate for release. You must have sex again and again to have your release again and again. But Carol, you still can’t be satisfied, no matter how much you want it, no matter how much you need it.”

Carol was writhing about on the sofa now, moaning and breathing very fast. One hand was at her breast, the other had pulled up her skirt and was inside her panties. But to no avail.

Now he had her. “Carol, you can’t satisfy yourself. Only I can give you the orgasms you so desperately need. Only I can satisfy you now. Only when I tell you will you be able to come, will you be able to orgasm. Not before then.” He repeated the message as he undressed.

She was thrashing about in frustration, almost in agony, as her flesh responded to the reality his commands had created for her. His own excitement had reached a pretty high pitch itself, making his blood pound and his erect organ swell to it’s fullest proportions.

Fully naked, he went over to the couch. “Carol, I want to help you. I want to satisfy you. Do you want me to help release your from you torment?”

“Yes, oh yes . . . please help me . . . PLEASE . . .”

“Then open your eyes. Stay deep in trance, but open your eyes. And tell me what you want me to do.” Whoever is the god of this sort of thing, to thee I pray!

Carol opened her eyes and they weren’t blank and “entranced” as before. They were wild and urgent with desire. She reached out to him and said those two little words he’d waited so long to hear from her lips: “Fuck me.”

And then she repeated them with some variations, each more glorious than the last to his ears—and his engorged member.

“Then undress and come into the bedroom.”

She started to tear frantically at her apparel. “Be careful, Carol. Don’t damage your clothes.” Suddenly she was taking more care, fidgeting with unfulfilled desire though she was, as she unbuttoned her blouse, freed her more-magnificent-than-he-had-dared-to-imagine breasts from the confines of her bra, unzipped her skirt, slid her panties down and stepped out of them, revealing a thatch of dark hair and all the rest of her.

She followed him eagerly into the bedroom.

He dove onto the bed and turned onto his back. “Ride me, Carol. I’ll give you your first release soon.”

Her face flushed with excitement, she quickly responded, groaning as she clutched his organ to guide it into place. His right hand went to her breasts, first one, then the other; his left grasped her satiny, hot buttock. Carol slid down on him with a loud moan—the supreme moment of his life, he was sure—locking her snug, moist cleft onto him. The next moment, she was jerking up and down on him to a savage, erratic tempo, crying out with each thrust, clamping him fiercely, releasing him, then clamping him again.

In a state of ecstacy beyond even his fervid imaginings, he pulled her closer to him to suck as much of her swollen, velvety breasts with their taut nipples as he could get into his mouth.

And he almost forgot to say, as he neared his own release, “Carol, come now, orgasm now . . . NOW!” Then his climax burst convulsively inside her as she screamed with joy and release, locking her burning walls on him almost savagely. He grabbed her damp, writhing buttocks in both hands and held on tightly as her resplendent body convulsed in a frenzy, tears streaming down her cheeks.

He may have cried a little himself at that moment. Who could blame him?

Carol continued sliding up and down on his cock, less wildly but obviously not wanting the moment of ecstacy to end. She was the very antithesis of her usual self—in his company, anyway—desperate and insatiable instead of coy and “chummy”. She’d been like an animal in heat, almost crazed with need.

Not really knowing what to say, he asked her “How do you feel?”

In response, she lowered her torso on top of his, whispering in a hoarse voice as she squirmed her soft, hot body against his: “More . . . . more . . . . please, more . . .”

Taken aback, for a moment he wondered if he should just put her into a deep sleep for awhile so he could build uphis strength for the next round. For the first time, as he felt the sexual hunger that consumed her still, he realized the incredible power of hypnosis. She wasn’t simply passionate, she was passion itself, pure, driving physical desire, an instrument of sexual purpose and nothing else.

Abruptly, she rolled off of him and grabbed his now semi-erect penis in both her hands and began stroking it, making soft impatient cries as she did so. He was slightly astonished to feel himself begin to grow rigid again under the ministrations of her hot, moist hands. This time he pushed her back, lay on top of her, and began kissing her breasts and stomach before moving his lips to hers in an urgent kiss as she guided him into her moist opening. He knew he would take longer to come this time, which he thought would please both of them all the more. But she soon started moaning feverishly, clutching his buttocks now and trying to force his member deeper into her—and at an ever faster pace. When she raised her legs and locked them around him, urging him on, oblivious to anything but the compelling desire to feel him come inside her once again, the signal for her own orgasmic release, that part of his mind still operating on a level beyond the intensely physical registered his power over her and, yes, his triumph after all this time.

When it came, his second orgasm was even more satisfying then the first, as he was in a slightly better state to consciously appreciate it. Carol let out a rather softer scream than before, her hot, damp body shivering fiercely under the impact. Her hands on his buttocks still urged him on, but after afew moments, heaving for breath, he said “Let’s rest.”

She didn’t seem to hear him. She kept twitching and jerking under him in convulsive spasms, swaying her head from side to side, low, eerie moans sounding from her throat.

Get a grip, man! She’ll never be satisfied if you don’t establish control, and right now.

He made his voice as firm with command as he could manage under the circumstances. “You’re going to take a shower now, Carol. Come with me.”

As he climbed off her and stood beside the bed, she obediently slid her legs over the side and stood up next to him. She followed him to the bathroom. He turned on the shower spray and handed her a shower cap and had her put it on securely over her wonderful mane of hair—wet hair would be difficult to explain when he woke her. Now she stood under the shower, facing him, her gleaming seemingly insatiable eyes oddly incongruous in her smooth youthful face. In the bright light of the bathroom he could see her magnificent form in detail. Nature had gifted Carol with a fantastic body, whose prime function was obvious to him at a glance.

“There’s some soap next to you, Carol. Take a thorough shower. Clean yourself everywhere. When you’re finished, Step out and dry yourself completely with the towel I’ll give you.”

As she lathered herself with the bar of soap, sliding it over her breasts, down her torso, and between her thighs, she became more and more aroused again. Suddenly she looked at him with an expression filled with compulsive desire and reached out to pull him to her.

Not this time. He was spent. “No!” he side sharply. She froze. “That’s enough. You’re satisfied now, Carol. Completely contented. Finish you shower.” Slowly she seemed to relax, her face becoming calmer.

When she was showered and dried off, he had her dress. As he put on his own clothes, warm contentment mixed with a feeling of conquest and ascendency the like of which he had never known. She’d been wild and unforgettable, beyond even his wildest dreams, and he would want her again soon. That could be accomplished easily, without the long buildup.

When she was fully dressed and they were both in the positions they’d occupied when the hypnotic induction began, he gave her his instructions. “Whenever I want to hypnotize you again in the future, Carol, you will respond at once, going into the deepest stage of relaxation—just as you are now—when I and only I say to you ‘Carol, you look tired. Rest.’ When I, and only I, say these words to you, whether in person, over the phone, on a video tape, or however, you will instantly enter this deep state of hypnosis, completely relaxed and awaiting my instructions. Is that clear?”

She nodded.

“In a moment, I’m going to wake you, Carol. You will remember nothing that has happened since I started telling you to relax. You will remember nothing that happened after that. You will only remember that you became so relaxed that you fell asleep. You looked so peaceful and relaxed that I let you sleep until I wake you up in a moment. Do you understand?”

She nodded again.

“Very good, Carol. When I tell you to awaken, you will feel very refreshed and very pleased I was able to relax you so completely. You will want to see me again as soon as possible so I can do it again . . . . On the count of three you will be wide awake and refreshed, remembering only what I told you to remember. One . . . Two . . . Three. Wide awake now.”

Her expressionless face suddenly seemed to come to life, as she resumed her normal self-contained expression, her eyes flickering with recognition and coming into focus. He waiting tensely to see if her amnesia would be complete. He could put her under again quickly if need be, but that sort of complication he could do without.

“Wow” was what she said. “I feel great.” She looked at her watch. “It’s so late. I was listening to you . . . and I must have gone to sleep. How embarassing! Not many guys would have just let me sleep without trying to take some sort of pathetic advantage of the situation. You’re the best,” she volunteered, moved to him, and kissed him flush on the lips.

That was an unexpected bonus! She must feel something for me now, even if she doesn’t know why. And without him suggesting it to her hypnotized mind either. Well, well.

As he drove her home, he realized that he just HAD to test her post-hypnotic trigger phrase. At a stop light, he said the words. Before it turned to green, her eyes were closed and her head slumped between her glorious breasts.

As she entered her apartment, awake once more, Carol felt alive and contented, but most of all happy—very, very happy. She couldn’t stop thinking about how great she felt around him, how much fun it was, how much fun they could have in the future. She was such a fool not to have seen it long, long before. Anyway, time now for bed and sleep. It was late.

And she had a wonderful dream . . . .