The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Russell was as good as his word. Two days later he hand delivered the proofs from Lauren’s shoot. The processing quality was exceptional, they all felt and looked like top-dollar portraits. He also made a point of presenting me with the negatives and assuring me that he had processed the pictures himself and shredded the wasted sheets.

Lauren was thrilled when she and Gina came by to see them. “Oh my god, is that really me?”

“It’s you all right,” Gina assured her. “Post some of these on the internet and you’ll be the most downloaded woman in history.”

Gina picked out about six of the best non-nudes to show to the lingerie company. David offered to have a scrapbook made up for Lauren at no charge if she wanted to choose some for herself. She thanked him profusely and selected about 12 proofs, all from the post-hypnotic session, including several topless and nude photos from the end of the shoot. “I want to be able to look at these whenever some agency suit tells me I’m not sultry enough,” she explained. David blushed a little, I guess remembering his own reaction to her.

Our business concluded, Lauren seemed inclined to hang around. “Is there something else we can do for you, Lauren?” I asked, suspecting what the answer might be.

“There is one thing.” She looked over at Gina. “Gina has me scheduled to meet with the lingerie people tomorrow afternoon. They are going to want me to audition for them. I’ll have to talk to them and walk around for them in skimpy underwear, and I’m a little nervous about it. Do you think you could, well ...” Her voice trailed off, and I could see pleading in her eyes.

“Hypnotize you again?” I concluded. “To help you feel more confident for your audition?”

Lauren nodded several times. “Please? I want that job so much, and they won’t want me if I look nervous.”

I led Lauren back to the dressing room, where the good chair was. “Have a seat and get comfortable.”

After a few moments of wriggling in the chair, she pronounced herself ready. “Do I start staring into the mirror now?”

“Not necessary. Time out, Lauren.”

She resisted for a second or two, watching herself in the mirror as her body turned to rags and her head became too busy to hold up. She quickly gave in to the inevitable as her eyes closed, settling into the chair with a deep, satisfied sigh.

“Very good, Lauren. You remembered to respond to your trigger. You can use that same trigger on yourself if you wish, as often as you wish. Just go to a safe, comfortable place and imagine my voice saying ‘Time out’. Every time you do that you will go deeper into relaxation and feel greater pleasure.”

“Okay.”

“Now, Lauren, think about the pictures you saw of yourself today. Remember how totally irresistible you are, how sexy and confident you felt during the shooting here. Remembering those feelings has a marvelous affect on you—those feelings are coming back to you right now, as powerful as they were during the shooting. You feel strong, sexy, vibrant, in control, and absolutely self assured. Do you feel it, Lauren?”

“Mmmmm, yes ...”

“Good. This is very important, Lauren. The way you feel right now is perfectly natural, perfectly okay. It is how a model needs to feel about herself in order to succeed. You will find that this feeling of power, of seductiveness, of control, will tend to return to you any time you are auditioning or working. If you ever find yourself feeling uncomfortable or nervous, you can close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath. As you do, the feelings you are experiencing now will return to you. Each breath will make those feelings stronger, until you are completely at ease and confident. The more you practice this the more effective it will be for you. Do you understand?”

“I understand. Thank you for this wonderful feeling.”

I heard later from Gina that Lauren wowed the lingerie people at her audition. A few months later she was on the cover of a nationwide edition of their summer catalog.

The success of Lauren’s session left no more doubts in either of our minds—we were going to do boudoir, and we were going to do it better than anyone. We built a big, permanent set with several looks that could be changed quickly and easily. We also assembled a huge wardrobe of intimate wear for every body size and taste, from shiny black leather to pink flannel. I refined my hypnotic technique and suggestions so that the models always felt comfortable, in control, and aroused enough to show on film but not so much that David would have to fight them off. The women seemed to take to David almost on sight, and his patient, deliberate, supportive manner put them at ease quickly. And Russell turned out to be a real find. His print work was so good we never did upgrade our own darkroom. Between the three of us, we got great results from every client. Yes, even Gina—she was the first person we photographed on the new set, and her husband still sends us Christmas cards.

Months passed and we kept very busy, setting our session prices by the appointment book method: when we felt the book was getting too full, we raised our prices. As much as we enjoyed the boudoir work, we wanted to be true to our original intent. We limited our boudoir calendar to one or at most two sessions per day, which still left time for the commercial and family portrait work that had sustained us through the first year. I was getting used to the idea of David as a platonic friend and partner, although on some level I was still waiting for an opportunity.

My opportunity came in an unexpected form. Stephanie, the prodigal girlfriend, called to make a lunch date with David. I heard him agree to meet her at a restaurant across town and hang up.

“It’s been a while since you two had any time together, hasn’t it?” I asked him. It had been at least six weeks by my reckoning.

He shrugged. “She’s been busy, we’ve been busy.” It’s so hard to read David, but I thought (hoped?) I heard a hint of resignation in his voice. “I’d better get going.”

Less than a minute after his car pulled away, a tall, willowy figure strode through the studio door. She had a model’s practiced walk, short black hair styled carefully so as to seem unstyled. Her long coat parted at the front as she moved, revealing a casual yet elegant knit top and slacks.

“Stephanie?” As usual, my vocabulary withered in the face of surprise. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I need five minutes with you, Jen. Can we talk?”

“Umm ... sure. Do you want to use the office?”

“Definitely.” She headed for the office immediately, assuming I would follow. Stephanie and I had exchanged maybe 15 sentences since we first met, so I knew something had to be up. This is either going to be very good news or very bad, I thought.

Stephanie closed the door behind me and leaned against it, looking upward. She took a couple of deep breaths and brought her gaze back down to me. “I’ve seen the way you look at David. Does he know how you feel about him?”

All I could do was stare. Was it that obvious?

“It’s okay, Jen, I’m not here to play the jealous girlfriend,” she assured me. “I just want to know how far things have gone between you two.”

“We have a very good business relationship,” I told her. “Nothing else.”

Was that disappointment in her face? “That’s David, all right,” she mused. “Too many scruples for his own good. He should have dumped me for you long ago. It would have been so much easier.”

She wasn’t going to get an argument from me on that. I kept quiet and waited for my new confidant to get to the point.

“Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I’m meeting David for lunch at Toscani’s. We’re going to have a nice friendly lunch, catch up on all the who’s and what’s. And at some point in that conversation I’m going to tell David that I’ve started seeing someone else.”

Which was exactly what I wanted to hear, but at the time it felt like a blow to the stomach. To make things even crazier, I found myself fighting back a growing moral outrage on David’s behalf. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because we both know he won’t tell you himself. I just want you to know that if you can pry him out of his shell, now is your chance.”

“So this is strictly for my benefit.” I wasn’t buying it.

“Okay, that’s not all. By telling you, I now know that I can’t chicken out at the last minute; I have to tell him before he sees you again. David has never been anything but honest with me, and I feel like a louse for cheating on him, but ...” Her voice just trailed off.

My head was spinning, half a dozen different thoughts screaming to get out. Finally, I settled on the safest one. “I’ll take care of him. Thank you.”

Stephanie shot me a relieved look, then held up her watch. “Gotta go.” We locked eyes for a moment and shared a nod, then she was gone as abruptly as she had come in. I got to the glass storefront just in time to see her duck into a waiting sports car driven by a good-looking man in an open shirt. Neither one looked back as they disappeared into the stream of traffic.

Twenty minutes later I was still staring out the front window, a storm of related thoughts swirling through my mind. I knew I wanted to sleep with David, but did I want it for the right reasons? Was I willing to risk a failed relationship and possibly a ruined business too? How much should I say, and when?

I needed clarity, and I needed it soon. I had an hour before I estimated David would return, another 30 minutes after that before our last boudoir appointment of the day. Time enough if I used it wisely.

I went back to the office, forwarded the phones to voice mail and put on some soft instrumental music. Then I settled into a small sofa in the office, my shoes off and my jeans open and unzipped for easier circulation. I took three deep, slow breaths, and willed my body and mind to relax. With each breath in I envisioned the tensions gathering like electrical sparks in my forehead. With each breath out I pictured that energy as blue lines rushing out of my body and disappearing into the cushions of the sofa, like lightning drawn off by a lightning rod. That imagery has always been very effective for me, and within a few minutes I felt myself drifting off into my personal sanctuary.

When I hypnotize myself I don’t always have specific suggestions in mind; just the act of going into trance and coming out again is usually enough to banish stress and clear up my mind. This time would be different, though. This time I needed to ask myself some tough questions.

Still picturing myself in my safe, quiet room, I imagined that my subconscious was now in the room as well, in the form of my favorite childhood toy—a Magic 8 Ball. Like a Chevruel pendulum, my subconscious would use the Magic 8 Ball to provide yes or no answers to simple questions. I pictured the ball in my hands, pictured myself turning it over several times in my lap then asking, “Am I ready to explore the questions that are troubling me?” The ball turned over of its own accord, and shortly the answer rose from within its murky depths: ‘You May Rely On It’

I turned the ball over again, satisfied that I was sufficiently relaxed to continue. “Do I really want a romantic relationship with David?”

‘Yes—Definitely.’

“Do I want it for the right reasons?”

The ball remained still for a long time before answering. ‘Reply Hazy, Try Again.’

Okay, reword the question. “I know that I have a strong physical craving for David. Is a sexual relationship all that I want with him?”

‘Relax’ said the ball. I sent a couple waves of extra relaxation from head to toe and felt myself settling down again. The ball’s message changed to ‘Very Doubtful.’

“Is David interested in me?” I was trying to tap into my own intuition here.

‘Signs Point to Yes’

“If we start a relationship and it fails, will we still be able to work together?”

‘Cannot Predict Now’ Okay, that’s fair.

“Am I willing to risk losing the business to gain the relationship I want with David?”

A very long pause for this one. I concentrated on breathing and staying relaxed, following the music, holding onto that feeling of complete detachment. I couldn’t afford to let my conscious self influence the outcome. Finally, the Magic 8 Ball rolled over and displayed its answer: ‘As I See It, Yes’

Just to make sure: “Did my conscious mind influence that last answer?”

‘My Reply Is No’ I did not feel a surge of relief, just continued detachment. A good sign, I would realize later.

“Would it be better for me to take the initiative instead of waiting for David to approach me?”

No hesitation this time. ‘Most Likely’

“Thank you very much.” I set the Magic 8 Ball aside and watched it fade away. The session had gone well, so I gave myself permission to let go completely until the end of the music tape. I felt myself sinking deeper into the couch, letting go, drifting ...

I woke up to the CLICK! of the tape player’s automatic shut-off. All of my confusion and anxieties were gone. I knew exactly what I wanted and felt confident of achieving it, knowing I could work out a plan at my leisure. Fixing my clothing, I checked the desk. The message waiting light on the telephone glowed red, and the time display showed that I’d been out for 45 minutes—David would be back soon.

The phone message was from Claire, a boudoir client scheduled for the following week who needed to reschedule. That was easy to take care of, and it gave me an idea. Instead of offering the opening to a client (we keep a special list of those interested in taking advantage of cancellations), I crossed out Claire’s name in the appointment book and wrote “Jennifer D.” in its place. I knew David would see it, but would he see through it? I felt like the foreplay had already begun.

David returned a little later than I expected, only ten minutes before our afternoon boudoir client was due.

“I’m really sorry, Jen. I had no idea it would be such a long lunch.” He seemed like his normal self, not overly flustered, just annoyed at himself for running late. I couldn’t tell whether Stephanie had told him or not, and we couldn’t afford to get sidetracked then by discussing it. My pulse quickened for a few beats as he checked the appointment book. “Yikes!” he exclaimed, tapping the name of the client who was due any minute.

“I’ll help you get the gear ready,” I offered.

“Not necessary, I can catch up while you prep her.”

The client was right on time, so I put the personal issue aside to give her my undivided attention. By the time I had her fully prepared with makeup, wardrobe, and hypnotic suggestions David was ready. In front of the client he was absolutely his normal, professional self. We kept our focus on the client and had a very successful session.

With the client on her way home, it was time to find out what had happened at lunch. With David a direct approach is usually best. “So,” I began, “what brought Stephanie to town?”

Perhaps my tone betrayed something, because I saw a shadow cross David’s face. It was gone almost immediately and replaced with his normal, relaxed expression. His eyes lingered on me for a moment or two longer than normal before he replied, “Personal business.” Then he pointedly returned to unloading the camera in his hand.

That was my signal to butt out, but I wasn’t about to do it. Unlike Stephanie, I knew that David would tell me everything once assured that I really wanted to know. I gave him my strongest you-can-talk-to-me look as I asked, “Are you two okay?”

He sighed, still concentrating on the camera. “It’s been a long time since Steph and I were really okay, I guess. Too many other things get in the way.”

“Relationships like yours are hard to maintain,” I offered. “Busy schedules, different priorities. It’s bound to be tough on everyone.”

That got him looking back at me. “I guess so. Steph said almost the same thing and I couldn’t disagree. Anyway, the relationship is over. Today was sort of a closing ceremony. Misty-eyed reminiscing, fond farewells, we’ll always be good friends, etc.”

“David, I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” he replied. “I’ll get over it, of course. Everybody does.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Just put up with me for the next few days until the worst is over. I’ll try to keep my mouth under control.”

“You talk as much as you need to, David. It’s okay.”

He gave me a wry smile. “We’ll see. Don’t let me go maudlin on you, okay?”

We spent the next few hours in the office doing the mundane paperwork that builds up in any small business. David surprised me by suggesting a late dinner at a blues club a few blocks away. Naturally I took him up on it. We didn’t talk about the breakup any more, but the steady rhythms of the blues music seemed to be comforting to him. We made party conversation—nothing too heavy, no business—and drank as we listened. After a little while, David fell silent.

“This is such a cliché,” I remarked. “Is this really a good way to avoid depression?”

“Shhh,” he replied. “Just listen a few minutes.”

So I did. I was always a rock and roll lover myself, so I’d heard a lot of blues songs but never really paid much attention to them. Now, with no Aerosmith or Rolling Stones in the mix, I started to feel the healing power of good blues music. The rhythms, strong but gentle, worked their way into my brain and I found myself relaxing with each slow, heavy beat. After a little while David ordered another round, bringing me out of my reverie.

“Blues is not about being depressed,” he volunteered. “The essence of blues is hope. No matter how bad things get today, we always seem to keep on going. We carry our grief for a while, then life goes on.”

“And the experience makes us stronger?” I added.

“Not always. Some of us are destined to keep repeating our mistakes. Bad karma, unlucky in love, call it what you like. It doesn’t matter. The song is still about surviving the sadness, not wallowing in it.”

“I’m beginning to understand, I think.” I let my eyes close and leaned back against my seat, letting my head fall back to rest on the cushioned booth wall. “It’s so relaxing, so comforting.” I looked back at David and he was doing the same thing, leaning back against the bench, eyes closed. Temptation rose up within me, or maybe it was just too much wine. I lowered my voice and continued speaking to him, slowly and deliberately. “So easy to just sit back, relax, let yourself drift along with the rhythms of the music. Not thinking about anything in particular, just concentrating totally on the beating of the drum, the quiet guitar riffs, the pure emotion in the singer’s voice. Let the music surround you and carry you deeper, deeper into itself, slow and easy, leaving your body behind to just rest.”

I was a drink over my usual limit, and the David’s beer glass had seen at least 3 refills by my count. These are not ideal circumstances for a hypnotic session, but it seemed to be working. His face went slack, the mouth falling open as his head turned ever so slowly to the side.

“It’s so nice sitting here like this, relaxing, listening to the soothing sounds of the music and my voice. The longer you listen to the music, the more deeply it relaxes you. The more deeply you relax, the more you can concentrate on the music. Nothing else needs your attention, nothing but my voice and the music. The music and my voice. Let your conscious self float along with the music, while your inner mind listens to my voice. Trust me, David. Let go, follow the music, and trust me.”

Within a few minutes his body let go completely leaving him slouched against the side of the booth, his breathing soft and slow, his eyelids fluttering a little as his eyes moved rapidly beneath them. For a moment I thought he had slipped into sleep.

“Can you still hear me, David?”

“Mm Hmm.”

That’s good. “You can speak clearly to me David. Speaking to me will not disturb you at all, in fact it will help you to relax even more. Every word you say, every word you hear me say, will relax you more and more. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Alcohol normally interferes with concentration, which hinders hypnosis, so I hadn’t really expected the induction to work. With no particular plan and the wine buzz occupying more of my brain, I just watched him in silence for a few minutes. I was half in a trance myself, and the music kept trying to pull me further down. As I studied David’s slack face I became aware of a strong, moist heat radiating from between my legs. At the same time, I started noticing the sensations in my breasts as my simple knit sheath dress stretched and moved against my nipples. I pressed my thighs tightly together, although I still don’t know whether that was meant to contain the feeling or to savor it. My id was screaming at me to go down on him right then and there, but despite the wine my better judgement prevailed.

“How do you feel, David?”

“Strange,” was his answer. “Sad. Peaceful. Good. All at once.”

“These are good, normal feelings, David. It’s natural to feel sad when a relationship ends. At the same time, when two people have been growing apart over time it feels good to finally acknowledge that and go your separate ways. You and Stephanie have been growing apart, David. The real relationship was over a long time ago, it just took until today for you both to recognize it. In a few days you will find that you are more relieved than sad about the breakup. Every time you think about Stephanie you will remember the joy of the good times but the sadness and bad memories will fade like a photograph in the sun. Trust me, David, it will happen.”

“I trust you, Jen.”

“Thank you, David. Go ahead and think about Stephanie right now. Think about her as if you last saw her a year ago, remembering the fun times, while those sad memories fade away.” I gave him a few minutes, watching a gentle smile crease his face. “How do you feel now, David?”

“Happy,” he said. “Contented. Getting a little horny.”

I almost lost it. My hand hovered just an inch over his zipper, longing to reach inside, but I held firm—not here, not now. Soon, I promised myself, but not tonight. “Yes, this music is very sensual, isn’t it? I find it very seductive. Isn’t it good to know that whenever we want to feel good like this, we can listen to some blues and recapture the feelings we have right now?”

“Yes.”

“I think so too, David. From now on, we will always find blues music to be incredibly arousing, putting us in the mood for slow, delicious sex. Don’t you like that idea, David?”

“Sure.”

“Very good. Soon it will be time to wake up from your rest, David. When I count to five you will wake up completely, feeling refreshed and content. Your waking self will remember only that you dozed off listening to the music, but your inner mind will remember all. One, two, three, four, five.”

David’s eyes popped open and he sat up with a jerk. “Jesus, Jen, I’m sorry. I’ve never done that before.”

“It’s okay, you’ve had a rough day.”

A curious expression came over him. He was studying my face closely. “Are you all right, Jen? You look flushed.”

Oops—I should have told him not to notice anything odd. My sex drive was fully engaged, and there was no way to hide it completely. “Too much wine,” I suggested. “Maybe I’d better go freshen up a little.”

The ladies’ room was mercifully empty. I splashed some cold water on my face, dampened a small wad of paper towels with cold water and squeezed it between my thighs. It was going to take more than a little cool water to make the heat go away, but I felt much more in control as I touched up my makeup.

When I got back to the table, David had already paid the check and looked ready to go.

“Calling it a night?” I asked.

“Since I can’t seem to stay awake on my own, I might as well. See you tomorrow?”

“Sure,” I said. “Don’t worry about the time, just come in when you feel like it. I can cancel the boudoir sessions if you don’t feel like doing them.”

“No, that wouldn’t be fair to the clients. I’ll be there.”

That voice came back in my head, urging me to jump him immediately. I allowed myself a sisterly hug instead, and felt another rush of desire when I felt his arms ever so gently encircling me. “Goodnight, David.”

“Goodnight, Jen.” He took my hands in his. “Thanks for the company.”

“You’re welcome, really.”

By the time I got home the wine had worn off, but my libido was still raging. I went to bed early and gave in to the dark side, climaxing repeatedly until I was too exhausted to stay awake.

The next several days were surprisingly normal. David was at the studio every day at his normal time. If my customary “How are you doing?” was a bit less casual than usual, so was his “Fine.” Every once in a while I’d catch him staring into space with a faint smile, but he really did seem like his normal self. I’d like to think I helped him with my suggestions at the blues club. Then again, he’s a pretty stable guy to start with.

At David’s suggestion we took the weekend off instead of staying open Saturday for walk-in business. My boudoir appointment was for Tuesday afternoon, so I spent much of the weekend thinking about that and communing with my Magic 8 Ball to make sure I really wanted to go through with it. I also visited a number of music stores. By Monday I had everything planned and prepared.

I started getting butterflies on the way to work Tuesday morning. Fortunately for me, David would be out doing a location shoot for one of Gina’s clients until after lunch. That left me alone in the studio to handle the portrait sittings, which kept me just busy enough to stay focused. I saw David check the appointment book before leaving. If he suspected anything about “Jennifer D.” it didn’t show.

By the time David returned, everything I needed was in place. Since there was still a good hour before the appointment, David retired to the darkroom to do some preliminary prints. We used Russell’s lab for all of our final print work, but still we often do an initial print run to weed out the non-contenders. I had anticipated that and taken the liberty of turning up the thermostat ever so slightly. I wanted him to come out thirsty.

About fifteen minutes before the appointment, when I judged David would be about done, I poured him an icy-cold glass of iced tea (his favorite beverage) and brought it in to him. “The client’s here,” I told him truthfully. “I’ll start getting her prepped.”

David took the glass from me and drank deeply. “Mmmm, I needed that. Thanks, Jen. I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

Yes you will, I thought as I headed for the dressing room. Behind the closed door, I removed the small glass bottle from my pants pocket and set it on the makeup counter. It was still mostly full, despite the fact that Gina had given it to me the week after Lauren’s trial session. “This is what people use who don’t have your skill, dear,” she had told me. “It’s usually known as LPR, for liquid pants remover. It’s very popular with the adult magazine and video crowd because it temporarily erases all inhibitions but doesn’t interfere with speech or motor skills. It wears off quickly and with no adverse effects. Give a model 2 or 3 drops in a beverage, wait 20 minutes, and she’ll do anything you tell her to for an hour.”

Smiling with anticipation, I released two drops into a short glass of water and drank it down. There was a very slight bitter taste, but David hadn’t seemed to notice. “That’s it,” I told my reflection in the mirror. “You’re committed now.”

One eye kept stealing glances at the clock as I changed into a satin coverup and worked on my hair and base makeup. I pulled out the barrettes that normally hold my hair up to frame my face, then got out the blow drier and some mousse. I had practiced this look over the weekend—still the same medium brown, straight locks folded back at the sides but I gave it a fuller, windswept look. It followed every movement of my head with a natural flow, neither too glued down nor too free. Perfect. I took equal care with my face, accentuating my chocolate-colored eyes and just equalizing the tones in my face without looking too made up. A subdued lipstick added the finishing touch.

It was a good half hour after I had brought David his drink when I heard him knock at the dressing room door. “Anybody home?”

I opened the door, still in only the satin coverup. David’s jaw dropped and his eyes opened as widely as I’ve ever seen them. They looked me all over, more than once in a couple of places, before meeting mine again. “Surprised?” I asked.

Shaking his head, he replied, “Very sneaky, ‘Jennifer D.’ I never made the connection. Who’s going to be our chaperone?”

“We don’t need one,” I answered. “Trust me.” Then I closed the door between us.

Slipping off the robe, I took a long look at myself in the full-length mirror. Shoulders square and strong. Breasts 38D, still holding up well against gravity with minimal help. Tummy, could be leaner but flat enough to draw hungry looks at the beach. Legs long, a little on the muscular side but kept smooth and soft by daily moisturizing. Butt, firm.

I decided a little body makeup might be in order. Just a little powder here and there, to keep from shining too much under the lights. The powder puff lingered over my bare nipples, teasing them into erection. I found it fun to watch them react. Then I thought, why not? I picked up my lipstick and slowly, deliberately painted them, savoring the sensation of smooth lipstick against sensitive skin. I’d never done that before, but it seemed like a perfect idea at the time. I felt so relaxed, so calm. In the mirror I saw that my pupils were a little bit dilated, but I didn’t care. They looked sexier that way.

Now for the wardrobe. Remembering David’s reaction to Lauren, I had chosen an apricot-colored pajama with string-tie boxers, three-quarter sleeved, in pure silk. I’d set aside a brand new thong panty as well, but changed my mind—I didn’t intend to be wearing anything for long, the shorts and top would be enough. I pulled the shorts up and tied them loosely, so they just barely clung to my hips. I slipped the top on slowly, luxuriating in the feel of the silk against my skin. With one eye on the side view mirror, I buttoned only the middle two buttons of the pajama shirt, allowing the V-shaped neckline to gap freely. If I stood just right, I could see my right breast in profile all the way to the nipple.

“Ready,” I announced as I emerged from the dressing room. David had finished his tea, I could see, and by the way his eyes were exploring me I had no doubt that the drug was working. “How do I look?”

“Wow,” he replied immediately, his eyes focused intently on my visible cleavage. “You look amazing. I always thought you’d look great without clothes on—oops, I mean ...” He actually blushed. It was so cute, I had to string him along a little.

“Play your cards right, and who knows?”

David grinned. “Shall we begin?”

I opted to start on the divan, a fairly new addition to the boudoir set. David adjusted the tripod and lighting a little, then started shooting. I let myself relax completely against the side of the divan, draping my right arm along the back and letting my left arm fall toward the floor, causing the pajama neckline to open up wide. Bending my left knee to let the hemline of the shorts slide up my thigh, I focused my eyes on the blackness in the center of the camera lens and thought, “You’re mine.”

We spent several minutes and a full roll of film on the divan as I shifted positions, exposing different parts of my body to David’s view with each move. His eyes never left me, not even between shots. When he stopped to reload, I suggested we relocate to the bed. At the request of a few clients, we had recently added an audio system to the set; I had preloaded a very special tape while David was in the darkroom, now would be a good time to start it up. I pressed Play and slid the remote out of sight in the night stand as David signaled he was ready to continue.

I turned and gave him a full left profile, opening the V neck a little with my hand, and strode slowly toward the foot of the bed as he started shooting. His ears perked up when he heard Stevie Ray Vaughan coming from the audio system.

“The Sky is Crying,” he observed. “You have great taste in music, partner.”

The big bed gave me plenty of opportunities to move about. I tried sitting on the edge, looking back over my shoulder as the pajama shorts rode up my thighs; crawling across the bed toward the camera, letting the V neck fall straight down, which let the camera look all the way through to my crotch; kneeling up, stretching, arms held high to make the top pull away from my tummy and show how close the shorts were to falling off. David took shot after shot, getting more intense with every new song from the tape.

Stevie Ray soon gave way to Jeff Healey, starting with his cover of “Hoochie Coochie Man”—a very sexy version, I recommend it to anyone for stripping. I laid back on the bed, arching my back so David would see my distended nipples clearly pushing out against the silk shirt. Dismounting with a flourish, I stood before him and slowly, deliberately, unbuttoned the top. I danced and posed in several positions designed to make the shirt fall open in the front, making the most of the valley between my breasts and the low-riding shorts. David kept shooting, talking to me all the while.

“Yes, Jen, you are so hot, so sexy,” he was saying. “Every man who sees these photos will get rock hard thinking about you, longing for you. Try turning to your left a little. God, that’s good. You are just oozing sexuality from every pore.” He was really getting turned on. I saw his left hand reach down every few minutes to adjust the growing bulge in the front of his jeans.

I was still posing against the bed, using the corner post the way strippers use the chrome bar, sliding up and down with my back to it. “Keep moving,” he continued. “Swaying, side to side, dancing for me. Show me you hips, let me see you swing them back and forth, slow and sexy. Beautiful, beautiful. Relax, Jen, remember to stay relaxed. Let the music lead you, let it take your mind away. Let go, Jen. Let it happen.”

Somewhere deep in my head, it occurred to me that David’s patter was starting to sound like a hypnotic induction. Who cares, I quickly decided, this is my show. He’s as good as mine. Jeff Healey gave way to a long series of vintage Eric Clapton, which was my signal to turn up the heat.

Turning my back to David, I spread the pajama top open and let it fall to my elbows, holding the loose fabric against my nipples. I let him coach me through several poses, front and rear, highlighting my breasts and thighs. Soon David suggested that the top was really getting very heavy, very uncomfortable, and I would feel much freer if I just let it go. He was right, I felt reborn as I let the silk pajama top fall to the floor.

“Excellent, Jen, you must feel so much better now. Keep relaxing, keep losing yourself in the music, feel yourself growing more and more aroused, more and more passionate. You body is slowing down now, Jen, getting tired from all your exertions. It needs to rest, Jen. It needs a nice, soft bed like the one you are standing by. Feel the bed pulling at you, begging you to lay down and let it relieve your tired body.”

A thick fog had descended over my brain, I was barely conscious of continuing my striptease. David understood, I knew that, because even as he was speaking my body felt drained and weary, tired, even as the lust continued to build up inside me. Stretching out on my back, I let my hands wander all over my body. I fondled my breasts, teasing the nipples. I pressed the silk shorts against my mound, feeling the heat being generated within. My eyes became heavy and tired, so I let them close and focused completely on the feel of my own hands sliding over my skin. Loose as it was, the drawstring waste on my shorts was becoming uncomfortable, binding, so I slipped them off slowly and sensuously.

Through all of this David kept talking, his voice a constant companion even though I wasn’t really paying attention to the words. I lost myself in the music, in the buzzing of his voice, the frequent click of the camera. A sudden overwhelming need came over me, energizing my hands as they moved faster across my erogenous zones. My left hand squeezed and teased my breasts more insistently than before, while my right dove in between my legs, fingers curling and parting my lips as I they probed my center. The pleasure was so intense, I wanted to come. I needed to come, but I was waiting for something. What was I waiting for? Oh that’s right, I was waiting for David. Waiting for him to say ...

“Come now, Jen.”

My body bucked like a cowboy on a bull, back arching and twisting, legs clenching continuously, arms thrown skywards again and again, head flung back and mouth wide open. I had never come that hard before, never. The spasms continued for what felt like an hour, again and again, sometimes seeming to die down but then getting stronger again. Slowly, I started to realize that my hands were both above my head but I still felt fingers exploring my sex, sustaining my climax with perfect pressure in every conceivable place. Somehow I wrenched my eyes open and saw David seated on the edge of the bed next to me, his left hand buried deep in me while his right worked unseen inside his own jeans. Another wave of ecstasy threatened to drown me as I grabbed his waistband with both hands and ripped his jeans open, exposing his marvelous cock.

The moment I saw David’s cock, that splendid battering ram of an organ, I knew exactly where I wanted it. Pulling the pillows behind me for support, I grabbed him by the belt loops and plunged the entire shaft into my mouth. As I did his fingers found my G spot again and started another set of uncontrollable, unbelievable, convulsions. My lips closed hard against his fuselage and I found myself alternately sucking and blowing, my lungs trying to pump enough air to sustain my tiring muscles. He was about to come, I could feel the tension rising. Suddenly my body just couldn’t hold on any longer, I collapsed back onto the bed like a rag doll. Summoning every ounce of strength, I reached up with my left hand and locked it around his cock, fucking him with my fist as hard as I could. He didn’t last long, maybe five or six strokes, before his cock exploded in my hand, sending spurts after spurt of thick, white liquid through my hand and far across the bed. His fingers finally withdrew from my center as his knees buckled beneath him.

Even after his climax, David’s cock stayed hard. My hand was still around it when he dropped to his knees next to the bed. He started to pry my hand off, but I’d had a few moments to recoup and squeezed harder. “I’m not done yet,” I told him. Rolling off the bed, I pushed him down to the floor. Holding his shoulder down with my right hand, I reached back with my left and tickled his balls, running my finger up and down the seam in his scrotum from front to back, stopping just short of his anus. His eyes bugged out and his every breath became a groan of delight. He started to shake his head, still looking up at me.

“Do you want me to stop?” I teased him, continuing to stimulate that very sensitive area.

“Ugh ... Ugh ... No!” His left hand reached up below me and grabbed onto my breast, sending a sudden jolt through my body which made me lose track of what I was doing for a moment. Soon he was kneading my breasts in rhythm to my strokes of his genitals and we were both heading quickly for another shattering climax. When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I let go of him and climbed on top. We both gasped as I slammed myself down over his immense cock, squeezing with all my might. That sensation alone was enough to rock my world and I gave in completely, holding his hands tight against my breasts as I shuddered around him. Seconds later I felt the unmistakable twitch that told me he was about to come too. Pressing his hands even more firmly into my chest, I squeezed down on his shaft one more time as I lifted up and dropped down again. He bellowed unintelligibly as he came again, writhing and pumping inside me. The pulsing head found another highly sensitized spot inside me and I heard myself screaming out loud as each spasm racked my exhausted body.

Finally I collapsed on top of David, rolling off onto the floor beside him, my body still twitching as the orgasm finally began to fade. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t believe some of the things my body had just done. As my breathing slowed my eyes grew heavy again, and as I sunk into deep sleep I could just make out the last few strains of my blues tape.

I woke up lying on my side on the bed, the silk pajama top just draped over my nude body like a sheet. “David?” I didn’t see him.

A few moments later he poked his head into the doorway from the office area. “Hi there.”

“Hi, indeed.” I reached up and stretched, making no attempt to keep the pajama top from sliding off.

“Are you hungry?” David asked, looking down and away as soon as soon as he saw my exposed body.

“Ravenous!”

“I’ve got some shrimp and egg rolls in the office if you like.” He was now talking to the door frame.

“Sounds delicious.” My body felt great, like I’d had a full workout followed by massage and steam. I put the pajamas back on since they were handy, but didn’t bother buttoning the top. The office had no windows.

David was waiting for me inside, a series of paper food cartons on his desk. He had showered and dressed in clean sweats and a T-shirt. His eyes met me at the door and then dropped to the floor immediately, like a schoolboy who knows he is in trouble. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the office clock: 8:20. I’d been asleep for almost three hours.

“What’s the matter, David?”

Willing himself to look me in the eye, David took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m sorry, Jen. I don’t know what got into me. I never—”

“Stop,” I interjected. “I know exactly what got into me,” I continued, looking pointedly at his crotch, “and I’d like nothing better than for it to keep getting into me regularly.” To underscore my point I walked right up to his desk and leaned over him, letting the pajama top fall aside and my breasts hang down in full view. He tried valiantly to maintain eye contact but failed, his eyes darting down instinctively as the silk parted and lingering for a full second before he regained control. A guilty blush crept through his face. “Believe me, David, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.”

“Yes, I do,” he insisted, wrenching his gaze away from me and fixing it at a spot on the floor. “Hear me out, please.”

I decided to back off. Picking up a carton of food and a napkin, I settled onto the office sofa. I buttoned one button on the pajama top and waited, eating shrimp fried rice directly from the paper carton with a plastic fork.

After a few minutes David seemed to find his words. Looking at me again, he started to explain. “I think you know I like you a lot, Jen. I’ve been a little bit in love with you since we met at the bank. I knew that Steph and I were headed for a breakup eventually, so I promised myself that when it finally happened I would reach out to you and see if you felt the same way. I almost did it at the blues club, but instead I embarrassed myself by getting drunk and dozing off on you. Not the best way to start a relationship.

“When you opened that dressing room door today and I realized you were the client, I went a little nuts. Having you pose like that has been a fantasy of mine since the day we built the first set, but I never thought it would really happen. Most of the women we shoot in there get me aroused to a greater or lesser degree, but watching you and filming you was too much. I lost every bit of my self-control.”

I knew why he’d lost it, but now did not seem like the time to say so. I just sat quietly, concentrating on his face.

“I love to listen to you hypnotizing the clients. The way you talk when you are putting people under is so erotic, I can’t get enough of it. In my fantasy, I can do that too. I use your words, your tempo, to put you in a trance and make love with you over and over. The more I saw you on that set, real and alive and irresistible, the more I wanted to live out the fantasy. I told you to relax, let go, follow the music, deeper and deeper, all that. When I could see it was working, I told you to take off your top and pose for me some more. I gave you the idea to start feeling yourself up, to take off your shorts, to let me feel inside you. I wasn’t concerned with your feelings, all I could think about was how much I wanted your body right away. I didn’t care how wrong that was until after it was done, when I saw you sleeping on the floor. I had no business using you that way, Jen, and I’m sorry.”

He looked so contrite, I couldn’t help it—I laughed. “You sneaky bastard,” I began in mock outrage. “After all the trouble I went through to seduce you, how DARE you take control of the situation and twist it to give me the most incredible, mind-blowing sex I’ve ever had? You cad, you.”

“The effort YOU went through?”

“Damn right,” I continued. “Do you think it was easy holding back a cancelled boudoir appointment for myself? Hypnotizing you at the blues club so that the next time you heard that kind of music you’d get turned on and hungry for me? Doping your iced tea with LPR to make sure that noble conscience of yours would take the afternoon off? It was hell, I tell you. Hell!”

A highly relieved David was beaming at me. “Hoist by your own petard, I see.”

“Watch it, Mister, Shakespeare makes me SO horny.”

“In that case, let me recite the first act of Midsummer Night’s Dream ... tomorrow, when I’ve recovered a bit.”

“I have a better idea.” I set aside my empty food carton, wiped my mouth lightly with the napkin, and approached David, walking around the desk until I stood directly over him, our faces just far enough apart to focus on. “Look into my eyes, David. Lose yourself in my eyes. Relax and let go. Feel yourself becoming tired, so tired, getting more and more sleepy as you feel yourself getting drawn into my eyes. You can’t resist me, David. You don’t want to resist, you want to obey. You feel yourself relaxing piece by piece, breath by breath, your body slowly settling deeper and deeper into the chair, your mind aware of nothing except my eyes and my voice. Let go, David. Trust me, I will take care of you. Follow my voice down, down, down into the deepest depths of hypnosis, where you can experience the ultimate pleasure.”

His eyes glazed over as they remained fixated on mine. Still repeating deepening suggestions, I slowly unbuttoned my pajama top and let it fall to the floor. David’s eyes never moved from mine.

“That’s it, David, keep sinking down into deep hypnosis for me. You know you want to, you know you have to. You will go deep into hypnosis for me any time I ask you to because you know how much it pleases me, and how much I can please you. Lose yourself in my eyes, David, let them take you deeper and deeper. Surrender you body to me.”

David’s body was totally slack, his head supported by the high back of his office chair. His eyes followed me as I moved back and forth, testing his concentration.

“Thank you, David. Thank you for surrendering yourself to me. Thank you for trusting me to take care of you. I will control your body now, David, while you relax and concentrate only on the pleasure that you will be feeling. You didn’t notice it at the time, but a few minutes ago I took off my pajama top. My breasts are right here in front of you, completely exposed, ready to assist in bringing us pleasure. Look at them now, David. Examine my breasts closely, memorize their contours, their coloring, their movement. Do you like my breasts, David?”

“Yes. Very much.”

“How does looking at my breasts make you feel?”

“It makes me want you.”

“Mmmmmm, David, it’s so nice to hear you say that. Keep looking at my breasts, David, and feel the blood rushing into your delicious cock. Feel the rising tide of pleasure as you become harder and harder, just from studying my breasts. Knowing that the sight of my breasts can get you so aroused, so ready, is turning me on as much as it is you, David. See? My nipples are getting hard while you watch, while your wonderful cock gets harder and harder.” Placing a hand on the front of his sweats, I began massaging his growing erection through the fleece. “Harder and harder, David, your cock keeps getting longer and harder as you look at my breasts. Do you feel it, David?”

“Yes ... yes ... so hot ...”

“Yes, David, you feel hot. I feel hot too, hot and horny, all I can think about is how much I want you right now. Just as the sight of my breasts has made you hot and horny, and all you can think about is how much you want me. I can’t stand to wait any longer, as I know you can’t stand to wait either. Stand up now, David, and take your clothes off for me.”

His vacant eyes still locked onto my chest, David rose from the chair. His eyes didn’t move even as he pulled the T-shirt off over his head. The sneakers and socks came off next, then he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his sweats and pushed them and his briefs down together. His cock was at full attention and starting to ooze a little at the tip.

“Now me, David. Undress me.” There wasn’t much undressing to do, of course—just a matter of letting him pull down the drawstring shorts. My skin tingled with delight as I felt the silk sliding smoothly down over my bottom. I backpedaled to the office couch and sat back lazily into it, my body draped diagonally across about two thirds of the length. “I want you to kiss me, David. I want you to start at my forehead and kiss everywhere I tell you. Each kiss will make you want me more and more, each kiss will get you more and more excited, but you will not come until you are inside me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Jen.” He came forward and planted a soft kiss on my forehead. I directed him to continue with my eyes, lips, neck, shoulders, having him linger on each breast before heading further down. His lips were so smooth, so nice. By the time David reached the insides of my thighs he was grunting every breath, clearly straining, his cock almost purple.

“You can stop kissing now, David. Would you like to please me with your tongue?”

“Yes, Jen. I want to make you happy.” I gave him permission and felt his tongue working up and down my slit, probing, caressing. God, he was good. For several minutes I just wallowed in it, silently thanking the unknown women who had trained him so well in handling our anatomy. Before I realized it I was convulsing again, surprised by the intensity of the climax. My thoughts scrambled as I rode it out. David continued working, keeping me just on the edge of another explosion. His face was covered in my fluid. “Would you like to come now, David?”

“Yes, please. Please let me come.”

“Put your magnificent, giant cock in me right now, David.” Rising to his knees, David parted my thighs a little further and teased the entrance with his tip, causing my body to react with an involuntary sharp intake of breath as he eased his way into me. “Oh, David, that feels so good. Focus on the feel of your sensitive shaft moving in and out, in and out, getting more excited with each stroke. When I tell you to come, David, you will have the most powerful, longest-lasting orgasm you have ever had.” He kept stroking, slowly and evenly, and I squeezed down on him with my pelvic muscles, savoring the feel of every ridge and bump on his shaft. David’s groans were getting louder and louder, and I realized that I was grunting with him. My eyes closed and wouldn’t open again, the eyeballs rolled up into my forehead, as yet another lightning bolt crashed through me. Between moans I managed to grunt out, “David ... David ... Come ... NOW!” I felt him jerk and shoot again and again, in synch with my own rhythm of clench and release. The feel of him bursting loose inside me pushed me even further over the edge. I heard us both shrieking, then grunting, before we finally fell silent. David collapsed on top of me, his knees still on the floor. I ran my fingers through his hair as we lay together recuperating, his arms limply encircling me as his head came to rest on my stomach.

After a long while David’s dead weight on top of me started to become uncomfortable. “Stand up now, David,” I told him. He didn’t respond right away. “David, you have been asleep. Now it is time for you to wake up. Awake now, David, and stand up.”

I felt his eyes fluttering as they opened. Realizing where he was caused him to shudder and stand up a little too quickly. David’s eyes swept over my body, over the sofa, around the room, back to my body. I could see him assembling the memory of what had happened. “You’re amazing,” he said. “You put me under just like that. All I could do was obey you. Do you have any idea how that feels?”

It must feel pretty good, I thought, because he was getting hard again just remembering. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“Umm ... Well ...” He shook his head, as if to clear it. “I can’t even begin to describe it. I’ve never been so randy in my life, but I didn’t feel any pressure to perform. I just sat back and enjoyed the ride while my body did everything you told it to. The sensations were ...” He just shrugged. “I can’t think of a word.”

“I guess that makes us even, then,” I remarked. “What next?”

David lifted me up off the couch, throwing his arms around me and pulling me to him. David’s mouth found mine and locked on in a hungry kiss that seemed to last for hours. Too tired to make love anymore, we held each other close, kissing and caressing each other, until we finally came up for air.

I got up first, locating my wrap and heading for the shower. I dressed in my street clothes while he took his turn. We shared another long embrace before parting company, each of us wanting to go home with the other but also needing time alone to absorb what had happened to us.

For the rest of the year everything, business and personal, went smoothly. The boudoir sessions were so profitable they not only put us in the black, but enabled us to hire our first employees—a photography assistant and a receptionist. We moved into a large 3-story loft building in a better part of town. The ground floor became the portrait studio, the second floor we dedicated to advertising shoots and boudoir sets. We had the upstairs level finished out into a spacious but cozy loft apartment which David and I shared. We took walks through the park hand in hand, played on the beach, all those fun, corny, magical things that new couples do. We learned to enjoy each other with or without hypnosis, in whatever way pleased us the most.

The time flew by, and before I knew it our anniversary had come again. Continuing our custom, David made a lunch reservation at the Toledo Grill (still our favorite spot, with the blues club a close second). Jerome showed us to our usual table and served us a delicious lunch. All through the meal I noticed the staff looking over at our table, as if they were in on a secret. Had I missed something?

Eventually the plates were cleared away, the empty glasses set aside to be refilled. Time for the business meeting. “It’s been a tremendous year, hasn’t it?” I began.

David smiled broadly. “It has. But we can do even better, I know we can.” I became aware of a crowd gathering beside our table, as the entire Toledo staff stopped working to watch us. Reaching into his jacket pocket, David said, “I have another proposal for you, Jen.”

Tears filled my eyes as I saw the little velvet box in his hand. I started saying yes before he even had it open. Jerome produced a bottle of champagne and a cake, then closed the restaurant while we celebrated each other.