The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“We’ve gotten a lot done since this morning. I’m ready to call it a day. It’s time for a little R and R. How’d you like to be hypnotized?”

I suppose a hundred expressions must have flashed across my face. “What,” I finally chuckled?

“How’d you like to be hypnotized?” Her question was the same, but this time there was a hint of “I know something you don’t” in her impish grin. She wasn’t an obviously beautiful woman, but she had a quick wit and a wholesomeness that’d been growing on me since we’d met nine hours earlier. The notion of this man’s being hypnotized by this woman—or more precisely, of what might happen afterward—wasn’t totally unappealing.

On the minus side, I’d spent an intense day learning the details that would lend authenticity to my presentation to her board in the morning. I was looking forward to a hot shower and a quiet night of studying in my hotel room. It could make the difference in my getting the contract.

I knew too that I’d failed utterly in two separate attempts at undergoing hypnotherapy. My analytical nature apparently had gotten in the way.

“By you?”

She flashed an anticipatory smile. “Yup.”

I wondered how she’d go about it. The public fantasy is that hypnotists have dramatic eyes and compelling voices that fascinate and hold their subjects. The truth is much duller. Both of my therapists had been mousy little people whose qualifications were limited to endlessly intoning how relaxed my body was getting, when it never was.

Beth as a hypnotist was even less plausible. Beth as a CEO, Beth as an exercise instructor, Beth on the cover of “Modern HealthStyle”: these were imaginable, and in fact these were true.

“How?”

She leaned across the desk and took my hand. She held it palm-up and began tracing little figures nonchalantly from my wrist to my fingertips. It tickled, and the random pattern she was using kept me from getting accustomed to the sensation. “No hints,” she said. “If you turn down the offer this time, I’ll never ask again.”

Oh, what the hell.... “And if I accept?”

Still delicately moving her finger here and there on my hand, she waited several seconds before answering; then: “You’ve already accepted. Now you’ll just have to wait and see.”

I presumed she was looking impish again, but I wasn’t watching her face. The lightness of her touch enhanced the unpredictable rush of impulses from the nerves in my hand. Almost compulsively I watched the path of her finger and tried to forecast where the tickling would come from next.

I expected her to start talking, to feed me that useless drivel about progressive relaxation and sleepiness. She didn’t need to, of course. We both knew what she was trying and what the outcome was supposed to be. The only change in her behavior was that she started taking long, slow breaths through her mouth until her breathing was the dominant sound in the private office.

Obviously I could have brought everything to an abrupt halt by simply pulling my hand away at any time. That continuing possibility meant there was never a particular moment when I absolutely had to do it, so I just left my hand out there and let her play her pleasant little games. Besides, my mind was fully occupied with correlating what I was feeling with what I was seeing.

After after what may have been a long time, the sound of breathing became louder as mine fell into step with hers. Except for that, none of the popularly fancied signs of imminent hypnosis were present. I wasn’t getting sleepy, my eyelids weren’t drooping, my mind wasn’t losing contact with my body, I wasn’t being enveloped in a fog of confusion.

It was quite the opposite. I was acutely alert. I heard all the common sounds of a commercial building and her secretary’s moving in the adjoining office and traffic in the street and a bird’s chirping outside the window. These were the sounds of the real world as it should be, and they only served to calm me.

Gradually, though, there arose a widening distinction between that real world and the world she was constructing in my hand. Sometimes I thought I heard a very soft whispering, but I was never certain of how she was transmitting her ideas to me.

What I do know is that a definite bond was developing between us and that it relied on our serving different roles in the relationship. I was getting comfortable with the notion of being docile.

Suddenly she withdrew her fingers. I sat stupidly for a few moments, trying to cope with the loss of that wonderful sense of unity with her. I swallowed to clear the dust from my mouth and looked plaintively at her. She was smiling. I was glad. It meant I’d done well.

She extended her hand. I immediately held out mine, palm up. She tickled me again, and quickly that sense of common purpose and receptivity engulfed me. We repeated that same withdrawal/return cycle many times until it became automatic and instantaneous.

I had the impression that whatever was happening was more intense each time. There was something else going on too, but I’m not sure I can explain it. The later times when she wasn’t tickling my palm were becoming like the earlier times when she was. What I mean is, if this was really hypnosis at all, then to an increasing degree it was gradually becoming permanent. I was like a diver trying repeatedly to return to the surface, falling shorter of it on each try, and finally giving up and staying under forever.

But under what? I still wasn’t sure I was hypnotized. When she withdrew her hand for the last time, there were no symptoms the average person would recognize from all the movies and science fiction stories. I wasn’t a zombie. I didn’t grope about with outstretched arms. I didn’t stare blankly into space. Yet my situation was very different from the outcomes of the failed hypnotherapy inductions.

The major change in me was that I seemed to have two minds in my head, and they were both sending commands to my body. The old mind was familiar. It was juggling commonplace ideas, things like reminding me to complete my expense account for the day and suggesting I find a men’s room pretty soon. The new mind was alien. It was sending commands that didn’t fit into my normal behavior.

I doubt an observer would have detected anything unusual. I was energetic, my fingers were facile, my speech was firm and modulated, my posture was erect....

Erect? The concept resonated. I looked down and saw that I was very erect indeed, a condition made all the more obvious by my being naked. In fact, I couldn’t remember having been quite this erect before. I was bigger somehow... impressively bigger, it seemed to me.

Beth was grinning at my discovery. I grinned back, my new mind overriding the old’s horror and embarrassment. Nor was I discomforted when she buzzed for her secretary.

Sally, the young redhead who’d caught me gawking in the morning, came in and caught me throbbing now. All I did was nod when she smiled admiringly. Apparently my old mind was sinking fast as the new one gained pre-eminence.

Sally, it turned out, was wearing a most remarkable garment. It looked for all the world to be a skirted business suit. Yet with her single tug at a strategic fastener it fell in one piece to the floor and left her naked but for her heels, stockings and garterbelt. In the moment before I was overwhelmed by lust, I guessed that some time ago she too had innocently let her hand be tickled, with the same result.

Sally positioned herself spread-legged on the edge of the desk and leaned back on her elbows to accentuate her lovely breasts. Beth reached over Sally’s shoulders from the other side of the desk and began a sensuous fondling that quickly sent the young woman into an intense state of ecstacy. I could see the color and texture of her nipples change, chameleon-like, as her chest began heaving in great sighs of rapture.

Her response had been so quick and so uninhibited, that I could only attribute it to her having lapsed into a very deep state of hypnosis. So this strange state of mine was undoubtedly hypnotic too.

When I saw the blush between Sally’s legs, I knew exactly what to do. Feeling powerless to resist the urge, I dropped to my knees and buried my face in the downy, auburn hair of her crotch.

Thanks to Beth’s skilled ministrations, the first traces of moisture were reaching Sally’s mound. The aroma was stunning. I pressed my nostrils against her and grew giddy at the smell. I wanted to breathe her in forever, but very soon the volume of her response to Beth’s gentle stroking made more dramatic action imperative.

I moved my lips to the source and slurped like a kid discovering chocolate ice cream. I lapped and licked and swallowed as fast as I could. I’ve never tasted anything else so instantly habit-forming. She was incredible.

Whether it was Beth’s action or mine or both, Sally was squealing and squirming. It was all I could do to maintain contact, until by chance my tongue hit that firm little nubbin rising near the top of my stroke.

She went totally rigid, frozen in sensory overload. I pressed my advantage. I held her swelling little lovebud between my lips and played my tongue over it. I was about to take her over the brink, when Beth spoke.

The effect was immediate. I stood up. Sally swiveled around and reclined on the desk. I climbed up and kneeled astride her in the 69 position. As I lowered my upper body, keeping my hips up, she raised herself on her elbows. We made contact simultaneously.

I thought I knew what to expect, but I was wrong. All of my women have known how to give head, but next to Sally they’ve been bumbling amateurs. I could sense my erection growing still larger and harder.

My lips were pressed hard against her mound, and my tongue was deep inside. We were a single organism, each half feeding on the other physically and emotionally. It seemed inevitable that we’d both explode at any second, but Beth spoke again and the wonderful sensations continued without the danger of imminent climax.

Beth touched her fingertips to my upraised buttocks and began practicing her sorcery back there. The combination of my head-down position, Sally’s smell and taste, and Beth’s mesmerizing fingers made me dizzy.

I’ve never let anyone play with my anus. The idea has always repulsed me, but now the orders from this new mind of mine had the damned thing going into spasms and issuing a clear invitation for attention.

Over the din of Sally’s and my slobbering I heard a lid unscrewing somewhere behind me. I steeled myself for what was coming. Sure enough, when Beth’s fingers returned, they went directly to her target. She slathered me inside and out.

The lube was cool and soothing. It let her do the most amazing things. I was incapable of taking my face away from Sally’s mound, so I had to guess what Beth was up to. I expected the worst when she first slid a finger all the way in, but it wasn’t repugnant at all. It felt great. And when she put in two fingers and then three, the initial discomfort gave way quickly to intense pleasure, especially when she plunged them in and pulled them out again and again.

After several minutes of submissive ecstacy, I felt her withdraw her fingers and ease something much stouter and longer into me. It seemed to have a bulbous end and an irregular shaft. If she’d been a man, I’d have been suspicious of what she was using.

I was a puppet. At one end I couldn’t abandon the wellspring of Sally’s nectar. At the other I couldn’t bear to interfere with the greatest blowjob of my life or my first anal action. Both women were maintaining my helplessness with unbelievably erotic sensations, and both had my full cooperation.

The overload was too much. It triggered an avalanche. I came into Sally’s mouth with a great explosion, and she writhed and gushed as no one ever had for me before. We nearly drowned each other.

Sally and I spent a long time licking each other clean. She was so delicious that I wanted to go at it all over again; but something cooled me off, and I softened even while her tongue was still busy on me.

When we’d finished, we stood apathetically side by side and obediently held out our palms.

The next thing I remembered was the wake-up call from the hotel’s switchboard operator. I hopped brightly out of bed and went through the usual morning routine, noticing several pleasantly tender parts of my body as I showered.

When I entered Sally’s office, everything came flooding back to me. I pondered where her ingenious single fastener was for today’s outfit. Smiling, she came over to me and cupped her hand at my crotch. “It was lovely,” she cooed with a kiss on my cheek. “Beth and I had a nice long talk after you left. You’ve got a future.”

I made a move for a breast, but she danced coyly away.

Abruptly she returned to business. “The boardroom’s through that door on the right,” she said. “First you’ll come to an anteroom where you can ... um ... prepare....” She sort of smiled to herself before she continued. “Then the far door will get you into the boardroom itself. A buzzer will alert you when they’re ready for you. You have about twenty minutes.”

She kissed me playfully again. “Good luck, stud.” She laughed softly and patted me on the can as I left her office.

The anteroom was elegant. There was a mahogany table, several chairs, a potted plant, a watercooler, and an adjoining washroom. It was all very cushy and proper...

... except for the jar of lube and the buttplug on the table. Ah, I mused, so that’s the kind of meetings they have, eh? I wondered how long it had taken Beth to tickle all those palms and bring the board members around to her unique theory of Management by Fooling Around.

I understood why Sally had chuckled when she’d said this is where I should prepare. I was already hard by the time I finished undressing. The washroom’s facilities made it simple and neat to use the lube and get the plug firmly in place. After the previous day’s initiation the plug actually felt good, once I got it seated properly.

As I washed up, I admired myself in the mirror. My erection was hopping and dancing in fine style. There was no question that the buttplug’s stimulation made me harder. I could be proud of my endowment in anyone’s presence, even a corporate board’s. I tried to picture those people and concluded they’d be a mixed group, fairly young and probably attractive. This was likely to be one meeting worth remembering.

The buzzer sounded. I picked up my pack of overhead transparencies, opened the door, and strode confidently into the boardroom. All eyes were on me.

I stopped and stood absolutely paralyzed in panic. Beth and the others were all sitting at the conference table, fully dressed and absolutely business-like except for the collective shock on their faces.

I covered myself inadequately with the transparencies, squawked something inarticulate, and backed into the anteroom. As the door closed, I heard their first babble of incomprehension.

Sally was waiting there for me. She giggled when she saw the fright and confusion in my eyes.

She held up a piece of paper with an address on it. She extended her other hand, and involuntarily I offered mine, palm up. As her fingertips touched me, I felt myself falling into a void. I surrendered gratefully as a welcome alternative to thinking about what had just happened. My old mind whimpered and gave up. This was real. This was forever.

Standing helpless before Sally, I heard her voice from a great distance. “Beth’s given you to me for my birthday. Isn’t that sweet? Be at my place at six tonight to continue your training. My, I think humiliation is a wonderful conditioner, don’t you?”