The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

One evening evening not that long ago, I reminded myself how that it was that the bond between a dominant and submissive vanished. I wished there had been no reason for it, but there was. And then I was left staring at my therapist as she lay on a maroon leather recliner, her legs slightly parted beneath a just-below-the-knees skirt. Her electronic notepad and stylus were scattered by her feet. My fingers took their turns stroking my chin, thin whiskers reminding me of their escape from the razor.

A familiar breath warmed my neck, then reversed, as a quick intake cooled.

“This is .. different,” she whispered.

Not at all surprised, I spoke to the figure shadowing me. “Her name is Jennifer. She’s my therapist.” My finger lifted off my armrest to point.

“Mmm..you have good taste. She’s .. cute. But I see you aren’t in any hurry.”

“That is true. I have not decided what to write next.”

The slight and ghostly lady sat down on the sofa a few feet to my right, black hair draped down her shoulder. Her eyes watched me a bit cautiously.

“You were—”

“Yes, I was submissive. A little. Sometimes.” Her mouth curled up.

“More than a little, I think. You danced with words so well, but you tripped over this reality.” One of her hands overlapped the other by her knee. The slick red polish coating her nails received my attention, for a moment at least. Her sapphire eyes also shared a few ticks in time with mine.

“I enjoyed setting the traps, imagining how a person might feel in such a predicament. It was a wonderful creative exercise. But I found it a bit terrifying. I have never been much about physical aggression. But—”

“You can be aggressive, boy.”

“If I weren’t so introverted.”

“You set me loose on the world.” I tilted my head slightly, looking at the character who spoke so honestly. “In the end there was a conflict?”

“Inside, yes. Dark stories reappeared, and I feared something within. Someone might push too far and unlock .. ”. I paused myself, and pulled my hands together.

“Hypno-fetish does not start off wicked. It just ends that way. Submission can be beautiful. I saw that. But some lines should never be crossed. You were the archetype of beauty, Danielle, and you were also terrifying. You gave me shivers and palpitations, arousal and night sweats.” Sips of sweet sleep, nursing dreams of unthinkable thoughts, iridescent magic.

“A powerful imagination can do that.” The ghost swept back a strand of hair.

“You could not have planned for what happened, Haepno—”. The ghost held her breath. “You know, I just realized, that name does not fit you now. ‘Teased’?”

“No, I would not refer to myself that way anymore. I am not passive. I am reactive.”

The world blurred, and we were no longer in an office, but atop a verdant hill. Not so far away from us, the world was abuzz. Dark shapes blotted light overhead. We were looking directly into the Hive Mind... There were the succubi, those I feared, lined up with their drones against me and the woman I loved. The Queen of Queens had been unstoppable. I needed help, and within my mind I fought anyway.

“You had to fight. And comparing yourself with the others was your first mistake,” the ghost noted. “We are all here for different reasons. You needed shelter, love, and time.”

“But the programmer of minds was within me,” I said. “The stories were a reflection.”

Absinthe Dreams came to me...

Nathalie gathered her strength, then slowly stood to look at herself in the mirror. A brunette stared back at her. For a moment, she thought it was someone else, but then her hands reached for a silver chain around her neck, and lifted it over her head, suspending a perfect sapphire before her eyes. It began swinging... left.. then .. right. In a detached way, she heard her voice say plainly, “Programming complete.” Her other hand was at the ready. SNAP!

“Do you blame them .. or yourself?”, she asked. I shook my head.

“I blame some people for some things, but not for that. Everything was there from the beginning, and I had little idea what was happening or how to proceed. I wanted peace within the chaos.”

“By the way, do you remember OUR first dance, Haepnoteased?” The shift in the conversation caught me off guard. I looked her way, half expecting to see the devil herself. Yes, she was there, and I was taken aback, for she was not so ghostly now. Rose filled in her cheeks. Her eyes were a bit bluer and shiny. Her nails turned brilliant. Red and gold. I could remember. I saw her press her fingers to his lips. My lips.

“Shhhh, be quiet. This is still my dance,” she had whispered to me in my dreams, seemingly so long ago..

“And there is only this now,” she said, ghostly once more. A cloud of ash billowed from her hand, pushed over the edge by condensing breath. It chilled me, and I shivered as I spoke once more.

“We never really talked of dreams, or of nightmares. I created all these images and stories, and it was as if some people could see the beauty, but not all of it. I was hoping to find something more meaningful.”

“You thought you had found someone like Keira, the woman of the Hive Mind.”

She was seated by herself, her arms folded in her lap. I sat across from her, and in the fading light dared a glimpse of her face. She had brown hair that stopped at her shoulders, matching pretty brown eyes. Small turquoise earrings dangled. As the engine rumbled to life and we pulled away, I looked back wistfully ... But soon I couldn’t help but glance at the girl again ... She looked up, but said nothing in kind. Her eyes glistened faintly, and her expression was unfathomable... I averted my eyes, and remained silent as darkness slowly swallowed us.

“I.. I .. was confused. She seemed so different from the others. I painted the fetish world black and white. Someone was on one side of the line or the other. But one day I saw the shadow of the succubus, and was very afraid.”

“No one can be that perfect in this fetish. Mind control is a dark art,” the ghost said. “And it is darker when you don’t know your way and how it applies to you.

“But it does not HAVE to be dark. Hypno-fetish is not a sick thing when it is between people who care for each other. Among the darkness, I thought there was such beauty.”

“It wasn’t real,” she said.

... the melody played. A man and a woman sat staring into the other’s eyes. Minutes slowly stretched to the far horizon. Within that sacred space, there was only room for two. Dominant and submissive. Feminine and masculine. “Affirmation” drew all pairs towards its center, effortlessly spiraling into a singularity, where there was no place for fear, doubts, or regret.

“That too wasn’t real,” she said more insistently.

“I know! I know! But those were my dreams...and they were more beautiful to me than anything anybody in this fetish has shown me. Others talk of staring at swinging panties, undulating breasts.. ”

“.. and smooth legs? Mmmm?” They were now crossed in front of me, still sexy even with a light green sheen.

“Okay! That’s NOT fair.” She then deployed her nails as well, tapping a dance on top of that leg. She smiled, waiting for my admission.

“Fuck me, I’m a purist, and .. goddammit.” She finally uncrossed those legs, yet a shoe dangled precariously.

“It’s okay. You hitched your dreams to the moon and stars. And you supported her, up until the end, right?”

“Yes.. yes I did. But it was not easy.”

“The truth is that it never is.”

I shook my head. “My dreams are in tatters.” Danielle wavered in front of me, suddenly dim.

“PLEASE DON’T GO!,” I gasped. “I NEED YOU!”

“So did Eric. He was such an innocent projection. You will never forget, because you infused the character with your fears, and you know how it feels to think you have forever lost love.”

Sighing, he gently unfolded a letter. As water calmly pulls away from the shore before the tsunami, the emptiness of the letter belied it’s significance. She had already planted the suggestions. All he had to do was read two words. The letter said simply: “Forgive me”

A tear fell down my cheek.

The wave crashed .. His last memories of her were fading. For a moment, he thought he saw her standing on a sand dune, gold letters swirling on red nails. One last time he envisioned her blue eyes and her breeze-stroked raven hair. His pupils dilated, his fingers fell open, and the letter fell in slow motion. Eric walked out of that hotel room, oblivious to the icy wind, knowing only that he longed to be home, wherever that was. Back in the hotel room, his coat still hung from a chair. Bits of gift wrap were scattered all about; in the center of the table sat an opened velvet black box, dazzling, as sunlight reflected through the facets of a diamond ring.

“Oh no”, I cried, slumping over on the sofa. “What have I done?!” Her hand laid to rest upon my back, stroking slowly.

“You were human. And as mysterious as she was to you, you must have been a mystery to her as well. You are as passionate as she, and that is a rarity. Your problem is that you did not know what you needed, and when you did, you did not know where to go, who to go to, and how to say it. But that does not matter now. You will never be able to return where you were, and you will have to traverse a different path towards dreams.” Sitting there I could appreciate her all the more. But I wasn’t looking at her, exactly. There was something bright and shiny to draw my eye.

“Now?”, I wondered out loud.

“Yes,” she said. “Come closer.” A sapphire dangled from a chain, and began undulating.. left.. then right.

“The dreams intermingle. They are part of you, as I am part of you, and you are .. going to relax a little now. Right? It’s okay.. You’re safe with me, remember? C’mon.. just relax.” The inevitable happened. Thinking became difficult, then I drifted away. The present merged with the past, reality with fiction.

I remembered Absinthe Dreams again

... as it was not that long ago

... on the edge of the grasses I sat alone with you.

... when I opened my eyes and saw something gleaming behind you in the background, I yielded to a different temptation.

... the pendant hung, slowly swinging as the breeze pushed, a lone sapphire suspended by gold clasps on a thin silver chain. I reached for it, and as I pulled it free and turned back towards the bed, you watched me with curious eyes.

“ ‘Is this how you will take back control?’, you asked me.”

My dreams had no time for the answer. My eyes opened. Staring at Jennifer sitting in that chair, I could see every shadow, every crevice of her being.

And then she stared at shards of broken glass. Her body told her something had gone very wrong. Her sight found night, not day, as she lifted her chin. But she had enough vision to see a woman’s heel planted not more than a foot away next to her on the concrete. There was red on those toes. A firm feminine voice projected above, out beyond the balcony, towards the city.

“He wants you to know that he’s sorry,” she said. Still dizzy, Jennifer gathered the energy to whisper.

“What ?.. who?” A car horn blared distantly from the streets below, and sirens faded.

“There is not much time left in our session, Jennifer. The story must be concluded .. ”

“Session..? ”, the woman coughed, weak and confused as she lay helpless.

“There was therapy tonight. Hypnotherapy.” Jennifer thought she heard other words. But she felt a lightness filling her. The sharp pressure eased from her right leg, and then from her left. Shards of red-lined glass fell from her skin, an inch below her, then several, a foot. She tried to speak, but words were now slurred, her vision blurring again, as her body continued to lift from the ground. Glass rose up from below, catching up with her. Movement accelerated until the shards came together, spidered against her face momentarily. But she continued falling back. The pain was no longer there.

The mysterious woman spoke again.

“We rewind our actions, so there is no harm. No hurt.” Jennifer was back in her comfortable chair, limbs sagging.

“Being a hypno-fetishist, you knew better than to make a man cry to satisfy your own wants. Knowing what you did hurt him as shards cut a hundred times. He wants to heal.” Jennifer’s eyes were closed once more, but her mouth uttered a truth.

“Self-defense...a protector.”

“Yes, I am that. I have done my part. And you can do yours now. Sleep deeper.” SNAP! When Jennifer’s eyes next opened, she found herself staring down at the hands of a woman gently holding hers. Gold flecks swirled on red nails. She looked higher still and found herself admiring porcelain skin, as a fragrance soothed her. Higher still were the lips. And once she found the blue eyes, she had no desire to look higher.

Silent, the cursive words from his journal carried forward the conversation ...

Trance does not always begin and end with a tingle.

It can be a slow descent into the soul of a loved one.

Behind those eyes is a mysterious mind we wish to know.

And when we meet again, there is a rush of recognition.

Jennifer’s lips parted to meet Hers. Smooth hands slipped around and inside the edge of her skirt, her thighs sliding slightly against those of the other.

Her client walked out quietly, grinning.

To the point, there was no need to

expound on pleasure.

The writer knew exactly what she was feeling then. We all do.