The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I was chewing the leftover ice from my third scotch, when Daphne re-appeared from the dressing room and slowly made her way back to my table. Long past the time I should have departed for my dinner date with Victoria, I had instead remained rooted to my chair, while the object of my attention took care of some personal business backstage.

“I’ll only be gone a few minutes,” Daphne had announced after my first lap dance, “Wait for me.” I waited... anxiously marking the passing minutes, but making no attempt to settle my bill and take my leave. This was the third afternoon I had invested in the dark atmosphere of this seedy dive, hoping for a chance to spend a few more minutes alone with the captivating, dark-haired dancer.

My interest in her had been obvious from the first day, yet it had proven inordinately difficult to even attract her attention. I think (in fact, now I know) she enjoyed my growing frustration. I had been forced to settle for those brief moments when I inserted my trademark two dollar tips between her glittering g-string and her silken skin, as she made the rounds of the club’s five dance stages. Her accomplished hands would lightly tickle my neck or press gently upon mine in passing, but only today had she accepted my offer to join me for a drink.

There seemed to be an unending parade of regular customers competing for her attention, monopolizing her time when she was not on stage, yet I was sure this wasn’t my problem, for her azure eyes often locked onto mine from across the room. Obviously, she had not forgotten about me. I remember thinking that she must be a first-class bitch, but for some reason, this realization had only fueled my fascination.

At least ten years the senior of the club’s standard complement of nubile twenty year-olds, Daphne’s body had aged gracefully, but neither her figure nor her face had originally impressed me as much beyond basically attractive, with the exception of those penetrating blue eyes. And her lackluster style of moving to the blaring heavy metal background music made it obvious to all that she was simply going through the motions. Perhaps it was the authority of her demeanor, the total confidence with which she carried herself, that had increased my attentiveness more and more with each appearance.

As she eased herself into the chair beside me once again, an accidentally audible sigh of relief escaped my mouth, and I suddenly realized how terribly worried I had been that she would not return as promised. The sound brought a satisfied smile to her face, but she said nothing as I ordered another round from Tammy, the pudgy waitress with the rough complexion who had been serving us.

“Feeling better?” Daphne inquired of her as our latest drinks were delivered.

“Just fine, thanks,” replied Tammy, pocketing her tip. “You’re a lifesaver.”

We each took a sip from the fresh glasses, then Daphne leaned toward me, her fingers finding their way around my neck, gently pulling my head closer, as if she wanted to be sure I could hear what she was about to say. The smell of her perfume enveloped me, as her eyes stared intently into my own. “I just helped her get rid of a bad migraine,” she explained. “Did I tell you that I’m a hypnotist?”

“No, you didn’t,” I said, though the subject did sound vaguely familiar. Looking into those penetrating eyes at such close range, I found it easy to understand their potential for captivation. They were so deep, so inviting, like the clear blue water of a bottomless pool.

“I like to be in control,” she whispered. Then before I could fully process this titillating, yet rather discomforting new information, she moved closer. Her eyes were wide, expectant, inviting me to agree. Her head began to nod slightly up and down, a motion that I found myself unconsciously mimicking. “Do you like women who like to be in control?”

An answer hardly seemed necessary. After all, I had been following her around the club like a little puppy for the last three days, awaiting her whim to make contact in her own sweet time. “Tell me you like women who like to be in control. I know you do; I can see it in your eyes, but I want to hear you say it. Look directly into my eyes, so I can see if you’re telling the truth, and tell me that you like for women to be in control.”

I attempted to offer a vague excuse about how I could take it or leave it, but my voice seemed to dissipate before the words could escape my lips. Instead, I found myself continuing to nod in silent agreement—unwilling, almost unable, to challenge the truth-seeking power of that beautiful gaze. “Sometimes, I think... I mean, sometimes I do, but... yes. Yes, I do.”

“I know. I know you do, and it’s wonderful that you are strong enough to admit that to me. I admire a man who’s strong enough to tell me how he feels deep down inside. I respect a man who can look me right in the eye and tell me the absolute truth.” She seemed so pleased with my answer, so supportive and so impressed. I could see the admiration in her lovely blue eyes.

“I’ll bet you haven’t admitted that to many other girls, have you?” Her head was now moving side to side, and mine was following suit. “Most men are too insecure to admit that they find powerful women attractive, did you know that? They try to lie to me about it, but their eyes always give them away. I look them right in the eye, and I always see the truth. But you have the strength to be open and honest. I’m very impressed; I find that very attractive, very exciting. If you say that to me again, I’ll find you even more attractive. Will you do that for me?”

I did, and there was no doubt about her reaction, for I could see the increasing intensity dancing in her eyes. “Yes,” I repeated, “I really am attracted to women who enjoy being in control.” Her eyelashes fluttered slightly, as if a wave of secret pleasure had washed up through her body. Now I could feel it too, and I almost shuddered as the chill spread down my back from the spot where her hand still rested on my neck. Without further prodding I said it again, then again, pausing only long enough to allow myself to enjoy the mounting sparks of electricity that seemed to jump back and forth from her blazing eyes to mine. I felt thunderstruck, a condition that remained even after words began to fail me. Now all I had to do was think the thought, then read the response in her deep blue eyes.

“It looks like we have something in common, doesn’t it?” Daphne continued, her voice lowered to an almost conspiratorial whisper, yet distinctly audible despite the ear-splitting volume of the bump and grind jukebox melodies which filled every corner of the club. “Don’t you think we have something special in common?” Oh, yes, that’s exactly how I felt.

“Would you mind if I asked you a personal question? Have you ever been hypnotized?” she asked. When I shook my head, she continued, “Have you ever wanted to try it?” I admitted that I found the subject titillating. It had been something of an adolescent fantasy of mine, one I found both erotic and somewhat frightening. “You really should, you know. I’ll bet you’d find the experience extremely pleasant. Don’t you think you might find it extremely pleasant?”

Again I found myself nodding. “Well, I’ve never thought about it much.”

“I don’t think that’s true. I’d be willing to bet you have thought about it.” Her eyes widened, challenging my unsuccessful equivocation. I had forgotten how easily her eyes seemed to read my inner feelings, how fruitless it was to attempt sneaking an untruth past that azure gaze.

“I’m sure you’re being very honest with me, because in just the short time we’ve spent together, we’ve developed such trust and understanding. And I’d be very happy to give you that opportunity,” Daphne offered. “Unless, of course, you’d be afraid to try it....”

“Is that why you haven’t tried it? I’ll bet that’s it. But now that we’ve become so close, I’d be happy introduce you to this unexplored new pleasure. You can’t imagine how much you’d enjoy it, and I just love to share my talent with all my close friends. Wouldn’t it be a shame to pass up this chance? Maybe you should think about doing it later tonight. My shift is almost over; you could drive me home, and we could discuss it there. Don’t you agree that you might want to do that? This might be the only chance you ever get. You wouldn’t want to miss the only chance you may ever get to try it, would you?”

Her hand was gently kneading the muscles on the back of my neck. Her face was now just inches from mine, and her voice had dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “In fact, one of the girls from the club will be coming over later for a session, so you could see exactly what goes on before you make up your mind. She likes me to make her feel sexy, and we always end up getting very kinky together. I know you’d enjoy that, even if you decide that’s all you want to do—just watch and enjoy yourself.”

Wow. I tried to envision what that would be like, and every image that came to mind was more exciting than the last. I could feel my dick stiffening beneath the table, and she must have realized what was happening because, without lowering her gaze, she reached down with her free hand and brushed it across the front of my pants. “Your eyes are telling me maybe, but something else is telling me yes, yes.”

“Most people are a little afraid of hypnosis; that’s natural. But once they see what it can do, how simple and safe and pleasant it is, they almost always want to try it themselves. I’ve helped several of the dancers here to do everything from lose weight to control pain; some just let me help them get a good night’s sleep. Of course, tonight isn’t about anything as practical as that. Tonight is just for fun.”

“I think you’d like to come along and watch me put her under, wouldn’t you? Don’t you think you’d like to come watch me do that to her? She’s one of my best subjects, and I can promise you quite a show.”

“You could see what it’s all about, and then you could take some time to think it over. You might decide it would be fun to try it yourself some other night. Besides, working with her always turns me on, so we’d still have the option of finishing off the evening with a little traditional pleasure. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t enjoy that! I know you’d have fun tonight, one way or the other. Don’t you agree that you’d have fun doing that tonight?”

“Well, I guess I might....” Before I finished the sentence, my concentration was interrupted by the clatter of breaking glass. One of the club’s waitresses had tripped in the darkness, smashing the contents of her tray across one of the ringside tables as the afternoon crowd loudly expressed its approval.

I turned my head to catch the action, and when I turned back to face her, Daphne’s smile had been replaced with an expression of irritation. No, more one of anger, or was that just the light? Whichever, that look on her face brought to the surface all of the misgivings about this situation that I had been telling myself were not particularly important during our conversation. Suddenly, putting myself into this woman’s hands for the rest of the evening didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore. In fact, it sounded positively dangerous! What had I been thinking?

“Listen,” I stammered, “let me take a rain check on that, will you? I’ve really got to leave right away. My girlfriend is going to kill me if I....”

Her eyes widened, and her hand pulled my head down closer to hers, effectively blocking my attempt to stand. “Stop!” she snapped, and I froze in that position, bent uncomfortably across the tabletop. “Look at me. You can’t leave. You’ve had far too much to drink. Listen to me carefully. You can’t drive. I won’t let you; it’s not safe. Listen to me, you’re too drunk to drive.”

But I had barely touched my last drink, and the earlier ones had already begun to wear off. I shouldn’t be drunk. I wasn’t feeling drunk, what was she...?

“In fact, you’re too drunk to even walk to the door. Look at you, you’re off balance. You have to hold on to the table to even stand up.” Daphne was speaking rapidly now, not loudly, but with great force and machine gun velocity—giving me no opportunity to respond. “I can see it in your eyes; the room is spinning around you, and you have to hang onto the table, or you won’t even be able to stand up.”

No, that’s not right, I thought, she’s holding me down with her hand, isn’t she? What is this bitch trying to pull off, and why was my stomach was beginning to feel so queasy?

“Look at me! Your eyes are all glazed over; you’re obviously intoxicated! Listen to me, you’re even drunker than you were before. You look completely unbalanced, like you can’t even stand up. Your body is swaying back and forth; you can’t stand without staggering. Hold on to the table, or you’ll fall down!”

Daphne was speaking faster and faster. I tried to tell her that she was full of shit, but she talked right over me. Her rapid-fire delivery was preventing me from getting a word in edgewise, and I seemed to be thinking too slowly to catch up with the conversation.

“Look at me! I can see it in your eyes, you’re already losing your balance. You feel so dizzy... dizzier and dizzier. The room is spinning around you. Spinning and spinning, faster and faster.” I strained upward against the pressure of her hand, which I had almost forgotten was still pulling down on my neck. More than that, it was now applying a subtle side-to-side pressure that began to rock my shoulders.

“The room is tilting, I can see it in your eyes, and it’s spinning around you, spinning you around, spinning around you. You can see it spinning around in my eyes, reflected in my spinning eyes. Can’t you see it? Can’t you feel it? Look at me! My eyes don’t lie, and they’re telling you that you’re too drunk to stand up! You know it’s the truth.”

I felt the floor begin to move beneath my unsteady feet. My head tried to turn this way, then that way, adding to the motion of the chairs and the lights and the small, round-topped table that now seemed to be spinning. I tried to make it stop; my hands clenched it harder and harder—partly to support myself and partly to stop it from twirling and twirling. I managed to take a step back, but my feet became tangled, one foot tripping over the other, and only the strong grip of her hand prevented me from toppling over backwards.

“You see? Do you believe me now? You’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t sit back down. Listen to me, Bill, I’m trying to help you! Hold on to me, Bill, I can make it stop, but you have to listen to me!” Daphne’s hand had never left my neck, and she pulled harder against my weakening efforts. The floor was rising and falling, and the room was a merry-go-round, flashing past in a dizzy orbit. In the center of the maelstrom, Daphne’s face seemed the only landmark.

“Look at me, Bill, I can help you. I can make it stop. Just look at me, Bill, and listen to me carefully. I only want to help you, don’t you know that? Can’t you see that in my eyes? I want to help you, Bill, look at me and you’ll start to feel better. Hurry, before you hurt yourself, before you fall down.!”

Whether I decided to sit, or my legs simply collapsed, I crumpled back down into my chair. Now she grasped my face with both hands, held it close to her own, and guided my eyes to hers. “Look at me, Bill. Don’t fight me; I’m trying to help you! You have to listen to me. You need me to drive you home. You can’t possibly get behind the wheel of a car in your condition. Listen to me. You know I’m right; you can see it in my eyes, can’t you? Look at me and relax. I’m going to take care of you. Don’t you want me to take care of you?”

Gravity was beginning to reclaim my body. The room was spinning slower, and the floor was beginning to level off again. My God, I had no idea how much I must have had to drink. Jesus, how had I thought I was going to drive? Thank goodness Daphne had been there.

“Don’t worry, you poor thing. I’m here with you, and I’m going to help you get home. I don’t want you to hurt yourself, so I insist you let me drive you. You’ve just had a bit too much to drink, haven’t you? I’ll take care of you, and I won’t let you hurt yourself.” What a relief it was to know that I was in the tender, capable hands of such a good friend. “You feel better already, don’t you?”

My composure was returning. I knew I was still far too drunk to operate on my own, but the simple act of holding Daphne’s hands, of looking into her concerned and caring eyes, made me feel so much better, so much safer. Exhausted, I allowed her to ease my head down against her soft shoulder. “I’m sorry, you were absolutely right. I just can’t remember how I got so smashed.”

“Listen to me, Bill,” she cooed into my ear. “Listen to me carefully. Everything will be fine. I’ll take care of everything. Do you understand that? You feel better because you’re going to let me drive you safely home. You’d like me to do that for you, wouldn’t you, Bill?”

“Yes, please, I’d be so grateful if you did that. So grateful....” My sentence just seemed to dissipate into a long sigh of relief. The turmoil of the past few moments had left me drained, dependent and grateful. It was so nice to rest my head against her shoulders, while she rocked me gently and told me that everything was going to be fine now. I didn’t even have the energy to speak, it was so restful to let her hold me gently and speak softly into my ear. I think she was talking about... well, something. I don’t remember how long we stayed that way, but it felt very nice.

After a few minutes Daphne slipped my head off of her shoulder and rested it against the back of my chair. “I’m going to get changed now, and then we can go. Why don’t you just wait here and rest for a few minutes, I’ll only be a minute.”

I leaned back, smiled contentedly and closed my eyes until I felt her hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake. I must have dozed off, for it seemed that she had only been gone for a minute, yet the entire club had already emptied. The lights had been extinguished, all of the chairs except mine were stacked upside down on the tables, and the floor glistened as if it had been freshly mopped.

A few minutes of rest certainly can do you a world of good, I thought, and by then my head had cleared considerably. I felt only a slight residual wooziness when Daphne took my arm and helped me negotiate the front steps, just enough to remind me that I was in no condition to drive. The manager locked the front door behind us, and we walked arm in arm across the deserted parking lot to my car.

At that point, I felt more tired than drunk, but I was still grateful she had offered to drive me home. It occurred to me that Daphne would have no way back to her own place after delivering me, and I offered to pay for a cab. As we approached my car, I dug into my pocket and pulled out a twenty to cover it, but she reminded me that we had discussed it at length, and that I had agreed to drop by her apartment first. That way, I could sleep it off, then drive myself home later.

Besides, one of the girls from the club would be waiting for her there. We needed to stop by to let her know that we wouldn’t be stopping by. Yes, that made sense; it was obviously the only thing to do.

I cued the remote door opener, then handed Daphne the keys as she slid behind the wheel. I settled into the passenger seat beside her, and at her suggestion, leaned my head happily against her shoulder. She was making pleasant conversation, but I was too tired to follow her train of thought, and sleep overtook me as we turned onto the street.