The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

To my friends, I’ve always been the sensible one. You know, the one you give your car keys to at the beginning of a promising party, or the one you invite over to check out a potential new boyfriend. Rock-solid, reliable Robin.

Which is why, when Sherri caught Drew sleeping around on her and threw his stuff into the street a mere three weeks before their honeymoon cruise was scheduled to leave, she offered me his prepaid ticket. I was between steadies myself at the time, so I jumped at the chance to take a long sea cruise. Even we dependable big sister types need to let our hair down once in a while.

As soon as we left port I could tell Sherri was in a dangerous mood. She’d always been a good girl—sweet, understanding, reasonably modest by current standards, the quintessential girl next door. For her reward, she got to walk into her own kitchen unexpectedly and find her fiancée with his face buried in the dripping snatch of the caterer’s assistant. I had a feeling several of the men on this ship would get used and thrown away before Sherri was done taking her revenge; I just hoped there wouldn’t be any permanent harm done.

As luck would have it, the first guy she went after turned out to be a creep. Anton (if that’s his real name) offered to hypnotize her, and when she turned him down he tried to catch her off guard and do it anyway. He might have succeeded if dear old Drew hadn’t left her so predisposed to mistrust men; as it was, she just slapped him across the face and became a little more selective about her prospective conquests.

It turned out that the ship was crawling with hypnotists: amateurs and professionals, stage performers and legitimate therapists, and just about anything else even remotely related. Apparently Drew had a closet yen for that kind of thing, because he’d picked this trip and sold Sherri on it without mentioning the program. I was a little uneasy about being on a ship full of Antons, but as it turned out most of the people were surprisingly, pleasantly normal. After a few days I stopped wondering if someone was going to jump out at me swinging a pocket watch and was really enjoying myself.

We were about six days out when Sherri told me about the video guy. “His name is Matt,” she said, “and he runs a web site where he sells hypnosis videos. Some of them are instructional, to teach people how to hypnotize themselves or other people. Others are videos of actual people being put under and made to do tricks, like a stage show but on film.”

“There’s a market for that?”

“Apparently,” she replied. “He says his video sales are covering production costs, supporting the web site, and paid for this trip. He’s got a little shop set up on the promenade where you can preview and buy some of the videos, and he’s talking about shooting some footage for a new one during the cruise.”

“That’s interesting,” I said with disinterest.

“It is,” she insisted. “In fact, he asked me if I would be one of the models for the new video.”

That finally got my full attention. “He what?”

“He asked me to be in a video,” she repeated. “And I’m thinking about doing it.”

“You mean, you’d let this guy hypnotize you and make you do tricks like a pet? What about that creep you ran into the first day?”

“Matt isn’t like that guy,” she argued. “He won’t try to get me to do anything I don’t want to. He doesn’t even do the hypnotizing himself, he has a professional do that while he films. I’ve seen some of the videos, and they’re no worse than anything you see in an R-rated movie.”

Something didn’t sound right. “Why are you trying so hard to get me to approve of this?”

Sherri looked at me sheepishly. “Because I want you to come watch the taping. Be my chaperone, just in case.”

I was relieved to see that Sherri was still at least a little cautious. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Mm-hmm.” Her eyes pleaded with me.

“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll watch your back. If this guy tries anything sleazy, though, we’re leaving if I have to drag you out by the hair. Deal?”

Sherri’s face beamed. “Deal!”

Having agreed to witness a video shoot, I figured it was probably a good idea for me to meet Matt and see his product. We had a pleasant midday meal by the main swimming pool and then strolled over to the promenade to see what Sherri had gotten herself into.

I have to admit I was impressed by Matt’s operation. He had a number of kiosks set up with PC’s in them, each one showing a series of 30-second trailers for his movies. There was enough of a crowd milling around that we couldn’t get to a kiosk right away. While we were waiting a tall, stocky, slightly balding guy came up to us and hugged Sherri. “Good to see you again so soon,” he said. “Does this mean you’ll do the video?”

“One thing at a time,” she chided him. “Matt, this is my best friend Robin.”

“How do you do, Robin?” His handshake was firm and his smile sincere. I wanted to like him.

“I’m willing to do the taping,” Sherri continued, “but I want Robin there to watch.”

Matt agreed with no hesitation. “Sure, no problem. We can tape tomorrow morning if you want.”

“That would be fine.”

“Great,” Matt said. “Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

Sherri shook her head. “No, that’s it. I just wanted to show Robin some of the previews so she knows what to expect. Looks like you’re a little busy right now, though.”

Matt looked over at the crowd. “A little,” he agreed. “But that’s okay, I have a better idea. Why don’t I lend you a couple of videos similar to what I want to shoot? You can watch them in their entirety in your own room and bring them back tomorrow.”

“We don’t have anything to watch them on,” I pointed out.

“That’s no problem,” Matt said. “I’ll call the purser’s office for you; they have a bunch of VCR’s in stock that they loan out to passengers on request. What’s your room number?”

“A24.”

Matt jotted the number down on a sticky pad, then handed us a pair of VHS tapes in plain cases. “Take these now, and I’ll get you a VCR as soon as they can deliver it.”

“Cool!” Sherri bubbled. “I can’t wait to watch these.”

Matt was as good as his word: about twenty minutes after we returned to our room, a crewman with a VCR under his arm knocked on our door. He had it hooked up and the clock set in just a few minutes.

“How long can we keep it?” Sherri asked him.

“Normally just one night, ma’am,” he replied formally. “But the request says you’ll need it through tomorrow, so I won’t come back for it until the day after. If you need it longer than that, call the purser’s office; as long as there isn’t a waiting list, it should be no problem.”

“Is there often a waiting list?” I asked, curious.

“Not normally, ma’am. But then again, very little about this trip has been normal.”

I had to laugh. He was right—there had been some pretty wild goings on, especially in the evenings. I’d heard tales of some very interesting demonstrations of sexual hypnosis from various people. There was even rumored to be some kind of contest going on between some of the principals on the ship. Sherri and I had stayed more or less apart from the hypnophiles, at last until Matt came along, but it’s fun to keep an ear open in the public areas.

Sherri pulled out the first video while I said goodbye to the crewman. “It’s called Atlantic City,” she said. “I haven’t seen this one before.”

The video had been shot in a hotel room in Atlantic City and featured three women. The first introduced herself as Heather, a dancer at one of the casinos. She was tall and thin, with unnaturally blonde hair. The second was a long-haired brunette who called herself Dolly and made no bones about her occupation—“I’m a stripper,” she said simply. The third, a pretty young girl with mousey hair and a short, well-rounded figure gave her name as Melody. “I’m only a waitress,” she confessed, “but I’d like to be a stripper for a little while at least; the money’s a lot better.” All three said while they had been promised a modest amount of money, they were doing the video mostly out of curiosity. Only Dolly admitted to having been hypnotized before, “to help me get over my shyness.” Judging by her occupation and the neckline on her top, I concluded that the treatment had been successful.

The hypnotist himself was fairly nondescript, medium height with chestnut hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He didn’t have piercing, mesmerizing eyes or an impressive theatrical voice—he was just a regular guy. He didn’t even introduce himself.

The first thing he did was to have the models, as he called them, sit on the end of the bed and kick off their shoes. He then held up a large, faceted glass ball on a thin chain just above their eye level and instructed them to watch it closely. As the models fixed their gaze on the ball he told them to breathe deeply and relax, watch the ball, see how the light shines off the facets, making such an interesting, captivating pattern as the ball sways to and fro. His voice was smooth and quiet; it didn’t have the powerful tone of, say, the magician we’d seen on stage the second night of the cruise, but it was strangely calming and comforting in its own way. I found myself relaxing a little as I watched the women’s faces soften and their eyes start to strain.

Within a few minutes, all three women’s eyes had fallen shut. They sat perfectly still on the bed, their shoulder slumping, their chests rising and falling slowly. Then the hypnotist said that when he touched their foreheads they would let go completely and fall back onto the bed, their bodies becoming totally relaxed and their minds fully open to his suggestions. The camera zoomed in closer to Heather and we saw the hypnotist’s hand lightly touch her on the forehead. Heather dropped dead away, falling backward onto the bed. Dolly followed suit, her arms flopping to her sides as she crumpled. Melody started to fall forward, but the hypnotist caught her and gently eased her down onto her back with the others.

They lay still for some time while the hypnotist coached them to go deeper, imagine themselves walking down a long staircase, that kind of thing. Then he took them through some of the stereotypical hypnosis tricks: locking their hands together; making their arms rise up on their own; having them wake up only to pass out again when he touched their shoulders; telling Heather to become stiff and rigid then suspending her between two chairs. Through most of this the women’s eyes were open and staring forward, while their bodies obeyed his every instruction to the letter.

Next the hypnotist told his volunteers that they were now sitting in a sauna, with the temperature turned up, and that it was becoming very hot because they were surrounded by steam. The camera zoomed in slowly, and I could see beads of sweat forming on the women’s faces and necks. Dolly responded especially well; within a minute or so sweat began trickling down between her oversized breasts. With no further prompting the models began to strip, fanning themselves as they dropped their clothing at the foot of the bed. We were quickly able to tell that Heather’s blonde hair was not natural—no surprise there—but Dolly’s extra-big breasts were.

Things took a decidedly sexual turn from there. Reminding Melody that she wanted to be a stripper, the hypnotist instructed her do a private dance for Heather and Dolly, telling them to act like customers in the club. Melody strutted and posed, slowly shedding an imaginary costume, while the other two leered and clapped and tucked imaginary money into the dancer’s invisible garter. When the dance was through, he told Heather and Dolly that the performance had gotten them incredibly horny, and had Melody watch as the two women began to kiss and grope each other. With a little more encouragement, the strippers progressed from petting into a full-blown sexual encounter, sucking each other’s breasts and massaging each other’s private parts. The camera panned back a little and Melody was told that watching her friends get it on was getting her aroused as well, so much so that she was feeling compelled to masturbate. Melody responded with abandon, reaching into her own slit with one hand while caressing a breast with the other. The hypnotist let it go on another minute or so, then with a simple command brought all three women to orgasm at once.

The second video had only one model, a girl named Colleen who claimed to be an aspiring lingerie model with no prior hypnosis experience. She succumbed quickly to the hypnotist’s spinning glass ball, though, and soon found herself posing for an imaginary photographer, gradually casting aside her clothes and taking on postures that grew more and more salacious. The video ended with Colleen thrashing on the hotel bed masturbating until she achieved a loud, long climax.

“Well, what do you think?”

The screen had been dark for a good five minutes. Sherri was bouncing in her seat, anxiously waiting for my pronouncement on what we had just seen.

Well, I asked myself, what do I think? I felt a little disturbed at seeing the women in those videos being used that way; I had this mental picture of some flabby, trailer-trash guy sitting in his underwear jerking off while he watched Melody’s dance or Colleen’s posing. But then I reminded myself that all of the models had been told what they were getting into, had been paid for their participation, and presumably signed a release allowing the videos to be sold. I wondered whether they had signed the release before or after filming, and whether they were fully aware at the time.

“Honestly?” I finally said. “I don’t like it. I can understand feeling reckless, wanting to do something different and wild and a wanton, but don’t you think this is a little over the top?”

“Not for them,” Sherri replied. “Those women are used to getting paid to let men look at their bodies. Two of them are strippers! For them it’s no big deal to get naked in front of a camera, and maybe even to diddle themselves once in a while.”

“Even if that’s true, you’re not like that.”

“Right. Matt says nobody can be hypnotized into doing something they wouldn’t be willing to do normally, so my video will only go as far as I let it.”

“I’ve heard that too,” I countered, “but what about the stuff we’ve heard about on this cruise? It seems to me that once that guy gets you under, there’s no telling what he might talk you into.”

“Maybe,” she conceded. “That’s why I want you there too. You can be my insurance policy. Are you still willing?”

I could see there was no talking her out of this. “If you still want to do it, I’ll be there.”

“I still do, Robin. Thanks.”

I slept fitfully that night, my rest interrupted by weird dreams. In one I was sitting on a hotel bed with the hypnotist from the videos, staring at the glass ball and getting sleepy, so sleepy. The next thing I knew my clothes were gone and I was masturbating wildly while Sherri cheered me on. In another I awakened to find myself facing the hypnotist again, only this time I was already naked. He held up the glass ball, but instead of falling asleep I found myself getting incredibly aroused and thinking about his body. I got off the bed and crawled over to the hypnotist, pulled out his cock and sucked him, all the while feeling as though my body were being remote controlled. In another dream I was watching Sherri do a strip tease for the camera. I wanted to wake her up, tell them to stop, grab her and leave, but my body wouldn’t move or speak. The hypnotist saw me looking, snapped his fingers, and I orgasmed.

As a result of all this, I was still dog-tired when it was time for us to meet Matt for the taping. I thought about having some extra coffee with breakfast, but decided against it—caffeine doesn’t make me any less tired, just more irritable.

Matt greeted us at the door with a broad smile. “You look great!” he told Sherri. She had dressed to entice in a ribbed tank top (no bra), a leatherette mini and heels. Since I was not on camera, I went for comfort with a cotton T-shirt, running shorts and sneakers. Once inside I saw another man already there, the hypnotist from the videos we had watched the night before. “Robin and Sherri,” Matt said, “This is Paul. If you watched the videos, you know what he does.”

“We know,” I remarked as I shook his hand. “You must be very good.”

He shrugged modestly. “Thank you.” His smile was charming in a quiet sort of way.

While Matt made some final adjustments to the lights, I took a look at the room. It was a normal excursion-class stateroom, much like ours except we had a window and this was an interior room. The bed was freshly made, the dresser cluttered with various kinds of gear that I didn’t recognize. I was surprised to note two cameras. One was clearly a professional-grade movie camera on a movable base. The other was a consumer model camcorder mounted on a folding tripod. “What’s that for?” I asked Matt, indicating the camcorder.

“That’s for Sherri,” he explained. “Normally, you get a model to sign a release at the end of the session. The problem with my videos is that the model is hypnotized while we’re shooting; it would be unethical to ask anyone to sign a release unless they know for sure what they’re releasing.”

Paul cleared his throat and interjected. “When a person is hypnotized, they remain in a highly suggestible state for some time even after they are awake again. A recently hypnotized model might readily sign a release for footage that she wouldn’t agree to if her critical thinking facility were fully engaged.”

“What he said,” Matt continued. “With the good camera gear I can’t show the models what we’ve shot until well into the production process, and by then it would be very expensive to have to throw things out. Paul suggested the camcorder as an alternative. At the end of the session, you and Sherri will take the tape from the camcorder with you. Later today you can view it and decide if there’s any part of the shoot she doesn’t want to end up in the finished video. Tomorrow, when everyone is clear-headed, we’ll draw up the release so that it doesn’t cover anything she wants left out and she can sign it.”

That was a pleasant surprise; whatever I might think of his customers, I had to admit that Matt was pretty decent guy.

Soon everything was ready to go. Matt dragged a good chair over next to the camcorder for me. From there I would have an unobstructed view of Sherri and Paul but would still be well out of Matt’s camera angles. Sherri perched on the end of the bed and Paul stood beside her.

They started out by having Sherri introduce herself, much like the women in the preview videos had done. “I’m Sherri,” she said, “and I work for an ad agency in Tampa. I’m on this cruise with a good friend, and I agreed to do this video because it sounded like fun. I’ve never been hypnotized before and never done any modeling before.”

Paul looked inquiringly at Matt, who was checking the audio recorder. “Sound levels are good,” Matt said. “I think we’re go.”

Paul nodded. “Sherri, before we start, can you give me some idea of how far you’re willing to go?”

“You mean, things I will and won’t do?” Sherri looked thoughtful. “I don’t know. I’ve always been pretty square, so I doubt you’ll be able to get me to do anything close to what we saw in the Atlantic City or Colleen videos.”

“So you’re saying no nudity and no sexual suggestions?” That sounded good to me, and it looked as though Paul was okay with it too. Sherri’s answer surprised me.

“No, I’m not saying that. If you think you can get me to take my clothes off, you can try. I just doubt it will work.”

“Okay,” Paul said. “Are there any things you don’t want me to even try? Strong taboos?”

“No masturbation,” she replied after thinking some more. “I definitely don’t want myself filmed doing that. I’d say no lesbian stuff either, but there’s nobody else involved so that’s out anyway. ”

“Got it. So aside from those two things, are you saying that you’d be open to pretty much anything else I want to suggest?”

“Sure. Are you okay with that, Robin?”

“I suppose so, if you are,” I answered. To Paul, I added, “You won’t try and get her to do something sexual with you or Matt, will you?”

“Absolutely not,” Paul affirmed. “Scout’s honor.” I was glad he didn’t seem to be offended.

The formalities completed, Paul turned toward Sherri and pulled out the infamous glass ball. He held it up by a thin silver cord or chain so that the ball was just above her head, where Sherri would have to look slightly upward to see it. He moved his fingers and the ball twirled easily back and forth. “Sherri,” he intoned, “I want you to fix your eyes on this crystal. Take a few nice, slow, deep breaths, and feel yourself relaxing a little as you let each one out. That’s it, just keep breathing deeply and slowly, breathing and relaxing. Listen carefully to the sound of my voice as you keep your eyes fixed on the crystal. You will find that as you continue to stare into the crystal, your eyelids have a tendency to get heavy. Heavy, almost as if they had a heavy weight attached to them, dragging them down, no matter how hard you try to hold them up. And the longer you stare at this, the more your eyelids get heavy. Soon they will have to blink, the weight will pull them down and they will blink, and they will keep getting drowsier and sleepier.”

I watched Sherri’s face as she gazed into the glass ball. She didn’t seem as though she were getting sleepy; if anything, she looked a little bored. Paul continued in the same vein for several minutes, and although she did blink a few times Sherri didn’t look to me as though she were falling into a trance.

At one point her gaze shifted in my direction. They went quickly back to the glass ball, but returned again a few seconds later. “Robin, quit staring at me!”

I jumped a little, then turned to Paul. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I guess I distracted her.”

“No, it’s me,” Sherri corrected. “I’m not concentrating, I guess.”

Paul seemed unperturbed. “Is there some thought that keeps coming into your mind, Sherri?”

She nodded. “That creep from the first day. Remember him, Robin?”

Paul gave me a quizzical look, so I filled him in about the would-be hypnotist Anton. “She told him very plainly she didn’t want to be hypnotized, but he tried to sneak it in on her anyway. It didn’t work.”

“I understand now,” Paul said. “Sherri, you realize that I’m not here to take advantage of you, don’t you? Whoever that guy was, he’s not a factor here.”

“I know,” she replied. “Give me another chance?”

“No problem. All hypnosis is self-hypnosis, Sherri. If you really want to, you can put thoughts of that guy aside as they occur and nothing can stop you from entering a deep, satisfying state of hypnosis. If you decide you don’t want to, that’s perfectly okay; nobody here will think any less of you after what you’ve been through.”

“Okay,” Sherri said. “I’m ready.”

Paul lifted the shiny glass ball again and set it twirling, again telling Sherri to clear her mind, focus on the glass, let any random thoughts that come to her just drift away. I was determined not to distract Sherri again, so I looked at anything and everything except her face. I watched Paul for a while, then my eyes naturally fell on the ball hanging from its chain. The light as it reflected off the facets was so pretty, so very interesting. Without realizing it, I began looking deeply into it and relaxing. I was so tired...

... bright lights shining on me, but they didn’t bother me in the least. I was comfortable, at peace, sitting with Sherri on the edge of the bed. I felt disoriented, as if I’d been roused from a deep sleep. Then a quiet voice spoke to me and I felt myself falling, falling...

... on the bed, relaxed, totally comfortable, like a kitten in its favorite resting spot. I purred contentedly as I smoothed my fur. Wait a minute—what was all this stuff on me? Kittens don’t wear T-shirts or shorts, bras or panties, socks or sneakers. I could be so much more comfortable if I just took these things off ...

... so much better now, so free and relaxed. It was good to get those heavy, itchy clothes off me. I stretched and yawned, rolling this way and that, enjoying the feel of my body against the soft bed. Sherri was next to me, sleeping. It would be so much fun to wake her ...

... Mmmm, that was sweet, his gentle hands stroking the back of my neck. I snuggled against him and purred some more, rubbing my body against him. So nice ...

... Oh my God—so horny, so hot. Not a kitten anymore, not now. His lips on my breast, his cock buried deep inside me, the rhythm of him pushing in and out. Oh, yes ... yes ... YES !! ...

“... three, more awake now, becoming aware of the sounds around you ... four, eyes opening ... and five, wide awake, feeling refreshed and alert.”

My senses were overwhelmed at first. I was lying on my side on a bed. There was light, but not too much. My skin felt cool; I moved a little and realized I was nude—when had that happened? My eyes finally focused and I saw Sherri lying next to me, also naked, looking just as dazed as I felt.

Weird snippets of memory started coming back to me. They were similar the dreams I’d had the night before, but different—more real. I was confused. I started to push myself up, but my elbow slipped and I ended up flat on my back.

“Take your time,” a kind voice said. I felt a soft movement of air, then the gentle weight and coolness of a fresh sheet settling over my body. “There’s no need to rush. You have all the time you need.”

My brain was finally catching up with the sensory overload and was moving on to other issues. “What happened? Where are my clothes? What did you do to me?”

“Your clothes are over there on the dresser,” he answered. “You were watching me work with Sherri and fell into a very deep trance yourself. Matt noticed it. We asked you if you wanted to join Sherri and be part of the video, and you said yes. You were very free and open to suggestion. It’s all on the VHS tape, so you’ll see the specifics for yourself.”

I was too dumbfounded to say anything right away. Paul looked a little concerned, and started asking questions: what day was it, what was the name of the ship, who was President of the US, what was my middle name. I felt my mind waking up the rest of the way. Sherri joined in as well, pulling some of my sheet over to cover herself.

“That’s better,” Paul said after we’d told him the square root of four. “Matt and I are going to step outside now so you can get dressed. Pop the door when you’re ready.”

Since we had both been sweating, we took turns in the shower before getting dressed again. I waited until we were both dressed to open the door.

“There you are,” Matt joked. “I was starting to wonder if you’d passed out again.”

“We needed to freshen up a little,” Sherri countered, grinning. “Somebody made us work up a sweat.”

Paul removed the tape from the camcorder and handed it to me. “I think you’ll like the result, though,” he said. “You were both very good.”

I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. “Thanks. Are you done with us now?”

Paul and Matt exchanged a look. “Almost,” Paul said. “Matt and I would very much like it if you would have dinner with us tonight. No business, just pleasure.”

“Why Paul,” I exclaimed in mock reproach. “Are you taking advantage of our highly suggestible state?”

He smiled back at me sweetly. “Maybe just a little bit.”

“In that case, how can we possibly refuse?”

Sherri and I viewed the tape after lunch. In the beginning, the top of my head was just visible at the bottom of the screen. A few minutes into the second induction attempt, it slumped forward out of view. I saw Sherri’s face relax as she dropped into trance, then heard Matt’s voice telling Paul that I seemed to be out of it too. They did ask if I wanted to be in the video, and I heard my own voice saying yes.

Watching myself sleepwalk over to the bed and sit down beside Sherri was eerie. We both had blank, distant looks on our faces. Paul took us deeper into trance until we flopped backwards onto the bed, then spent some time deepening our hypnotic state.

Next he had us sitting up again and did some of the same standard tricks that we saw in the other videos: hands locking together, arms rising up, waking us up and dropping us again right away. It was incredibly weird watching myself do these things when I had no conscious memory of them.

Paul put me out on my back again, then concentrated on Sherri. He told her that she had been drinking a lot of very good wine, and when she awoke from her trance she would be very, very drunk but would deny it no matter what she saw, heard, or did. Then he counted her up. Sherri’s eyes opened, then grew suddenly dim and sleepy-looking again. She saw me lying on the bed next to her and doubled over in exaggerated laughter. “Whuhappena her?” she slurred. “Can’ holder likker?”

“You’re drunk,” Paul accused.

“Nuh-uh!” she said emphatically. “I’m purfecly shober.”

“Oh really? Then you won’t mind taking a few sobriety tests, will you?”

“Bringemon,” she declared drunkenly, falling right into Paul’s trap.

“Very well,” he said smugly. “But if you fail a test, you have to take off a piece of clothing. Will you do that?”

In real life, Sherri grabbed my arm. “I don’t remember any of this!” We watched in amazement as Sherri failed to touch her fingertips to her nose, and in consequence dropped her miniskirt to the floor. Still insisting she wasn’t drunk she agreed to try and repeat a tongue twister and failed miserably, which cost her the tank top. Paul then got her to try walking a straight line. Sherri voluntarily removed her heels to make it easier to walk; standing straight and proud, with only her bikini briefs left on her body, she tried to follow a straight line in the carpet design and failed. Paul had to catch her as she bent over to remove the panties.

“See?” he scolded, “you are drunk. And you know what happens when people get really drunk, don’t you? They pass out.” With that, he touched his finger to Sherri’s forehead and she collapsed into his arms. He laid her out on the bed, told her to rest and relax and ignore anything she might hear until he touched her again, then came over to my side of the bed.

I was so zoned out over there that Paul had to bring me up a little bit before I could talk to him. “What would you like to do in your video, Robin?”

“Something sexy,” my sleepy voice answered. “Something to make you want to fuck me.” Sherri howled; I wanted to die from embarrassment.

“Hmmm,” Paul mused. “Do you like dogs or cats better, Robin?”

“Cats.”

“Me too. Do you know something, Robin? Stretched out on the bed like that, you remind me a little bit of a nice, sleek, comfortable kitten. Would you like to be my sexy kitten for a little while?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. When I touch you on the shoulder, you will become my sexy kitten girl. You’ll move like a sleek, smooth cat; you’ll purr when you feel good, just like a kitten; and you’ll feel like the sexiest creature alive. You’ll be my kitten until I touch you on the shoulder again, then you will go back into your deep, pleasant trance state and wait for more suggestions.”

Paul tapped me on the shoulder then, and my body language changed immediately. I saw myself stretching, twisting, running my hands down my body as if I were smoothing fur.

“Something feels wrong, doesn’t it?” Paul said, and at that moment my face lost some of its happy glow. “Your fur feels rough, itchy, binding. That’s because you’re wearing those clothes over it. Kittens don’t wear clothes, do they?”

I mewed, a strange hybrid sound that resembled the word ‘no’.

“Of course they don’t,” he continued. “Clothes are very uncomfortable for sexy kittens. They bind and itch and get in the way. You’d be so much more comfortable, so much more sexy and desirable, if you didn’t have those clothes on.”

I half remembered this part and shielded my eyes. That lasted maybe half a second before I was peeking between my fingers. Sure enough, I saw myself stand up and peel off my clothes. To make matters worse, it looked as though my nipples were standing up.

Once I was naked, Paul reminded me that kittens don’t stand on two legs for very long and I dropped to all fours. I started crawling around the room, brushing my nude body against the bed, the chair, and Paul’s leg. He petted me on the head and stroked the back of my neck, and I responded by snuggling tightly against him and purring. He laid me back on the bed and rubbed my belly, and I responded by stretching and twisting some more—I looked as though I was really enjoying it.

Paul got up and went back over to Sherri, touching her on the forehead again. “Sherri,” he said, “Would you like to have an orgasm?”

“Yes.”

“Then you will. Until I tell you otherwise, you will find that your entire body is a highly sensitive, erogenous zone. Any touch anywhere on your body by another person will cause you to have an orgasm. Every time it happens the orgasm will be more intense than the one before.” Paul reached out and tapped Sherri on the nose; she immediately gasped in response. Her body flushed, her nipples stood out, and she moaned through several heavy breaths.

Sherri’s noise attracted my attention. I saw myself roll over onto all fours and examine her as she writhed on the bed. I sniffed the air near her as she started to settle down, then did something very cat-like: I put a paw on her shoulder. Sherri broke out into another series of ecstatic, panting moans and I jumped backward. At Paul’s urging, when she was settled down again I licked her cheek. The result was the same, of course, only Sherri was louder and the action lasted longer.

With Paul egging me on, I tentatively touched Sherri several more times, each time sending her into another glorious-looking climax. Finally, when Sherri seemed completely spent, he touched me on the shoulder and I crumpled onto the bed again.

“You’ve been an excellent kitten, Robin,” Paul said. “Now, I want you to imagine in your mind your perfect fantasy lover. Picture him standing over you, offering to make love to you, and picture yourself accepting that offer. He is with you right now, Robin, just you and him, and he is making love to you in the way that you most enjoy. You can respond to him in any way you like. When you feel his hand touch the back of your neck, you will have the best orgasm you’ve ever experienced and then fall back into a deep, satisfying hypnotic sleep.”

Lazily, I rolled over onto my back and reached up to embrace my imaginary lover. I watched the tape in fascination as my arms circled around his imaginary back, pulling him to me. My mouth opened and my tongue came out to probe his mouth. One hand moved down and around to grasp an unseen cock, stroking and fondling and teasing it into erection.

Then my hands dropped to my sides and my legs opened up. My back and neck arched back and a look of total bliss came over my face: my phantom lover was going down on me. In real life, my body started replaying some of the sensations for me, a weird sort of memory effect which started my juices flowing again as I sat in my chair. Soon my videotaped self began panting, making those little hitches in my breath that I do when I’m having an orgasm.

But my perfect imaginary lover wasn’t done yet, of course. He let me enjoy my small climax, then kissed his way up my body and started suckling at my breast. I could almost see him on the screen. Once again my hand reached for the phantom’s cock, getting him nice and hard and ready, and with a smooth shift I opened my legs again and eased him into me.

It was a very strange sight, seeing myself flat on my back, my legs spread and hooking around an imaginary man’s body, my fingers digging into his nonexistent back. I moaned louder and louder as my hips moved up and down in a quickening tempo, bringing myself closer and closer to the edge. At exactly the right moment, Paul reached over and put a hand on the back of my neck. My body responded as if he had pushed a button—I cried out incoherently as the mother of all orgasms rocked through my body. It must have lasted a good thirty seconds or more before finally subsiding. In the throes of it I tossed my arms outward; the left one came down on the bed and brushed against Sherri’s outstretched right hand, sending her into one more strong climax.

When it was over, we both lay still on the bed, panting heavily, with beads of sweat all over our bodies.

“And now,” Paul said, “I’m going to count to five. As I begin counting, you will begin to come out of your hypnotic state. By the time I reach five, you will be fully awake, alert and aware. One ...”

We got to watch ourselves wake up, and remembered with amusement how confused we had been at first. The videotape ended with Paul covering us both with the extra sheet.

Sherri and I stared at the blank TV screen for the longest time, then slowly turned and faced each other.

“Holy shit, Robin,” she said in awe. “Can you believe that?”

I shook my head ruefully. “Not much of a chaperone, was I?”

She let that one go. “Are you going to sign the release?”

I thought about that for a minute. “Sure,” I finally said. “Why not?” Even we big sister types need to let our hair down once in a while.