The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Why did you start drinking, anyway?” Mina asked Russell. It was a Monday afternoon, the first of their four appointments.

“After the divorce, I threw myself into work,” her patient replied. “I’d never been a heavy drinker, but when rumors of the buyout began, my colleagues and I started going out to happy hour.”

Russell sighed. “Stupid. I realize now that I’d been spending my days looking forward to happy hour. It was the best part of my day! If only I’d controlled myself, I would have been better prepared for what happened. I was depressed, I guess.”

“What happened?”

“The buyout happened, and I got a new boss,” Russell explained. “I tried to make the transition as smooth as possible, but he hates my guts. I’ve tried to talk with him, but I can’t even open my mouth without him getting mad.”

She could not understand that at all. How could anyone not like Russell?

“Why do you think that is?” she asked.

“Well, I don’t think it has anything to do with me, because he didn’t give me a chance,” Russell told her. “First day, he walks into the office and starts barking orders, tells everyone their jobs are on the line. The new owners said that no one else was going to lose their jobs, but after his talk I wasn’t so sure. He’s got the whole department quaking in their boots. People don’t work well when they’re scared. A boss should have his employees respect him, not fear him. Or her.”

“Have you thought about a new job?”

“In this market?” Russell asked rhetorically. “Seriously, who’s going to hire a stockbroker now?”

“Maybe a bank?”

Russell shrugged. “I doubt it, but let’s get me to the job I’ve got without a hangover first.”

Mina nodded. “Okay, relax, sit back, take a deep breath. You are under my power.”

Obediently, Russell’s brown eyes fluttered and closed. His body relaxed, his head falling back onto the pillow.

Mina grinned. She couldn’t help it. She’d never been tempted before to implant such an outlandish trigger, but for the first time since getting her certification she felt a thrill, an unexpected rush of power. Russell was hypnotized. He was hers.

What is wrong with me, she wondered. He’s not mine. He’s here for my help, just like any other patient.

She’d spent a lot of time researching alcohol addiction over the past week, and had a good idea of what kind of suggestions to give him. “Russell,” she said softly, “There’s a better way of releasing stress than drinking. You’re a free man. Addiction is a thing of the past. You are strong enough to let go of alcohol. You have already let go of alcohol. You are embracing health, happiness, and confidence.”

“Are you comfortable with all these suggestions?” Mina asked him twenty minutes later.

“Yes,” replied her hypnotized patient.

“Perfect, you’re doing a fantastic job,” she told him. “Now, on the count of three you’ll wake up, wide awake, refreshed and energized.”

She stared at him, his peaceful face, his wavy brown hair. If only I’d met him under different circumstances, she thought. Maybe if I just indulge myself once...

Tentatively, Mina reached out and ran her hand through his hair. It was as soft and sexy as it looked.

She jerked her hand back a moment later. I could lose my license! She could just picture herself being dragged before an ethics inquiry and charged with harassing a patient.

“One, two, three,” she chanted aloud. Snap.

Russell opened his eyes, sat up straight, and stretched a little. “Well, I do feel better,” he told her. “Thank you.”

After Russell had gone, Mina closed up her office and began the drive home. I feel better too, she thought. This isn’t the way feelings are supposed to be, though! When you’re with someone you’re supposed to feel great, not simultaneously great and guilty.

He’d asked who would hire a stockbroker now. I would, she thought, if he could only apply for the position of boyfriend!

Russell returned to a booze-free condominium. He had dinner, played the piano, called a few friends, and phoned a cousin he hadn’t spoken to since Christmas.

He threw himself on the bed with a book, but he couldn’t focus on reading. He didn’t want to drink, either. All he could think about was calling Mina Sutton and asking her to meet him somewhere.

Ack! What was worse, drinking too much or feeling like a high school boy with a hopeless crush? There was no way such an intriguing woman could be single. No way. She’s only so understanding because I’m paying her to help me, he told himself.

Had she given him a posthypnotic suggestion to call her?

Impossible. That was him, not the hypnotherapy. If she wanted him to call her at home, she would have given him her number!

Russell went to the office, fired up the computer, and went to Mina Sutton’s web page. It hadn’t changed at all since the first time he’d seen it, several weeks before. She hadn’t updated her blog in months.

He looked at her picture.

He didn’t usually fall for women wearing glasses, but hers made her look smart. Her red hair was enticing and exotic. He wondered how long it would be if she ever let it down.

He read through her blog entries again, even though he’d already done so several weeks earlier.

“My name is Mina Sutton, and it’s my job to help you achieve personal success and happiness.”

Russell scrolled down. Most of it talked about hypnotherapy seminars she’d attended and professional books she’d read. Yet occasionally there was a wonderful little tidbit:

“I love thunderstorms. When I was little I used to curl up in bed shivering, but now I just lie down in front of the window and watch the rain and the lightning. Glorious!”

A few months earlier:

“I love seeing the rain on the lake. We had a day like that yesterday — it started out gray and raining, then the sky cleared. The lake reflected the blue sky like it was made of sapphires. That’s what I want to be like, sun and rain all in one person.”

Or one of her earliest entries:

“Autumn is my favorite time of year. I love lighting candles. I find myself looking for costume parties to attend. I always find myself giving away chocolates and apples.”

He remembered when he stopped going to AA and started looking for a hypnotherapist instead. He’d looked through several web sites until he’d found Mina Sutton’s. Her page had stopped him in his tracks.

Russell remembered exactly what he’d thought when reading her words for the first time. Here was a hypnotherapist who liked candles and dressing up for Halloween, even as an adult? This was a woman who would be fun to be around. On top of that, she had glamorous red hair and intelligent, caring eyes. If he was going to let anybody hypnotize him, he wanted it to be her.

He turned the computer off and got ready for bed. He was probably doomed to be alone, the thought. He’d failed as a husband, and now here he was, daydreaming about his therapist. That was beyond pathetic. And yet...

“Look deep into my eyes,” he imagined Mina whispering to him. He imagined them as blue, a dark, engrossing evening blue. “You are falling under my spell. You cannot resist me.”

“I cannot resist you,” he would say. He would be completely enthralled.

He imagined Mina smiling, a happy, mischievous smile. “When I snap my fingers, you will forget that I’m your therapist. Instead, you will find that you are falling madly in love with me.” Her fingers would click, and suddenly everything would change. He’d lean over and kiss her cheek. She’d turn her face toward him and their lips would meet.

Russell fell asleep, imagining holding her in his arms.

Russell was dreaming.

He knew he was dreaming, which was unusual. Generally, his dreams were so random he wasn’t even able to describe them. He’d be on the trading floor, then swimming, then cooking dinner, with no transitions. Before starting therapy, he had never realized he was in a dream when he was having one.

“You know what I like about the Phantom and Christine?” the woman said. “Forbidden love. No one but Christine understands why she loves him. The Phantom knows the world will never see him as anything but a monster.”

They were standing on the street corner where the taxi had dropped her off.

Russell looked at her, at the lovely face framed by the sensuous blonde hair. “Please, what’s your n...”

He caught himself.

“Don’t disappear,” he said instead.

She looked at him through lowered lashes, turning her face slightly away from him. She was so alluring!

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, her voice low and enticing.

“I’ve wanted so much to get to know you,” he said breathlessly. “I don’t want to wake up!”

She looked at him, and he just wanted to drown in her dark eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” he told her.

“Is that why you’re here? Because of my looks?”

“Not just that,” he said, taking her hand. “Because of the way you talk, the way you look at me, the way you hold yourself.”

Her lips curved into a half-smile.

“Do you feel this?” he asked. “Please tell me you feel this.”

She scooted closer to him. “It’s your dream.”

“I want it to be our dream,” he whispered, and brought her hand to his lips.

He kissed her fingertips, but she drew him toward her, and her face was centimeters from his.

“Kiss me,” she said, and their lips met.

The alarm went off.

Damn, Russell thought. He rolled over and turned off the alarm. Damn. Damn. “Damn,” he added out loud, though there was no one there to hear it.

He had to get to work, so he got out of bed. Still, there was nothing he wanted more than to go back to sleep. His dreams were so random, though. He’d probably never dream of the woman from Phantom again.

I’m one pathetic bastard, Russell thought. I need to get a life. The thing I most look forward to is going to sleep!

Later that week, Mina went shopping. Her sister in Evanston was having a baby shower, and she had a good time looking for all the stuff she needed — until she turned a corner and crashed into a teenager.

She kept her balance, but all the bags flew everywhere, spilling the contents all over the floor.

“Sorry!” the kid exclaimed, and ran off.

What are they teaching these days, Mina thought as she surveyed the wreckage. Aren’t you supposed to help clean up when you make a mess?

She supposed it was partly her fault, too. She’d been loaded full of bulky bags, and her hands hurt from carrying so many. How was she going to get all this stuff to fit again?

“Ms. Sutton?”

She saw Russell Hawkins on the other side of the plaza, and he was hurrying toward her.

Mina stood there. Her first impulse was to check her appearance. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Was she covered in dust?

Her second impulse was to hug him.

He arrived by her side. “Do you need some help?” he asked.

He was her patient, and she was his therapist, so she didn’t obey either impulse. Instead, she shook his hand. “I would love some help,” she admitted.

Together, they managed to fit the wrappings and parcels back into the bags. To Mina’s surprise, Russell obligingly picked up all of them.

“Any more shopping to do?” he deadpanned, laughter in his brown eyes.

Mina smiled back at him. “No, I’m done for the moment. I just need to get this stuff back to my car.”

“Lead on,” Russell told her.

“Can I carry anything?” All she had was her purse.

“I’m balanced,” he replied.

She led him on the path back to the parking garage. “Are you planning a family?” he asked.

Mina laughed. “No, no. This is for my nephew. Or niece. Whatever my sister’s having. The shower’s on Saturday.”

“So you’re going to be an aunt. Congratulations!”

“Thank you! Whatever the baby is, I’m planning to spoil it terribly,” she said with a smile.

“Nonsense,” Russell told her. “I’m sure you’re going to be completely responsible. You’ll be a great aunt.”

Mina felt a warm glow inside, and was at a momentary loss for words. That never happened to her.

“Your sister’s lucky to have you,” he added.

“Thanks.” Would you like to come with me?

The unspoken words hung in the air. Russell, of course, was oblivious. “I’m sure you’ll have a great time, frolicking with the outpouring of unrestrained femininity.”

He’s right, Mina thought. Men don’t go to baby showers anyway.

“Have you learned the gender?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No idea. They want to be surprised.”

“There’s a long tradition of that,” Russell joked. They reached her car, and Mina beeped the trunk open with the electronic key.

“I think I must be about as curious as they are,” Mina confessed as Russell placed the bags in the trunk of her Firebird.

“Do you have a preference?” he asked with a smile.

Mina grinned. “I’m hoping for another girl — but I’m sure I’ll love whoever it is.”

“I know you will.” Russell opened her car door for her.

She sat down and looked up at him, and for a split second let herself admire his chocolate-brown gaze.

“Drive safe,” he said, closing the door.

She waved, and drove away. Just before she turned the corner toward the exit, she glanced into the rear-view mirror. He was still standing there, looking after her.

“You told me you tried Alcoholics Anonymous?” Mina asked the next Monday.

Russell nodded. “Yes, but it didn’t work for me.”

She nodded. “You seem so certain.”

“Well, yes.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m an atheist,” Russell said simply. “I don’t believe in a higher power.”

Well, did someone have to? Mina knew plenty of people who would say she was going to hell along with him for being Bahai. Still, her religion didn’t have anything to do with her practice.

“Why not?”

“Well, I was raised religious, but my parents weren’t very observant,” Russell explained. “We only went to church once a month or so. Then I met Alyson, who was devout, and when we got married we started attending together. She would volunteer at church two or three nights a week.”

Russell rubbed his forehead. “Then I found out she was having an affair with one of the other volunteers. They’d go volunteer at church, then go somewhere else and have sex, and I thought they were volunteering the whole time. I still can’t believe I didn’t see it.”

Mina wanted to touch his hand in support — as a friend — but she kept her professional distance.

“I went to the pastor for counseling once the divorce began. He said I had to forgive my wife, because that’s what God wanted me to do. The divorce wasn’t even final yet and my wife was already engaged to her lover. He expected me to believe that God rewarded her cheating with a new husband, and rewarded me for going to church with a wrecked marriage.”

“Well, I can’t agree with that pastor,” Mina told him. “He had a responsibility to you regardless of his theology. Telling you to put your desire for justice aside didn’t support you through your grief.”

“Grief?” Russell asked. “Mostly I was angry.”

Mina nodded. “Grief is the opposite of bonding with someone. If the bond disappears, you experience loss, and you have to grieve it in order to move on.”

“Oh.” Russell pondered this. “I suppose that makes sense. Thanks for understanding.”

Bonding with someone, Mina thought. Damn this professional relationship! She wanted to tell him she understood. She’d been with her last boyfriend for a year, and within four months of their breakup he was engaged to someone else. That had stung.

“Anyway, I’ve had more success after three weeks with you than a month of AA meetings. I still want to drink, but I haven’t done it. I want to stop wanting it too.” He looked at her. “What do you believe in?”

“I’m Bahai.” She couldn’t believe she’d answered that. But what was she supposed to do? Not tell him?

“Forgive me, but I’m not familiar with that one.”

Mina shrugged. “I believe that God sent messengers to us throughout history — Jesus, Mohammed, Moses, Abraham, Buddha. They taught some universal truths, but also practices relevant to the times they lived in.”

Russell sat back on the couch. “Wow.”

“I wasn’t raised Bahai.” She wanted to explain it to him. “I was taught that God was patriarchal. I wasn’t content with that. In my heart, I felt that men and women should be equal, and I kept searching until I found a faith that teaches that.”

Russell smiled. “That makes sense. For me, it’s easier to believe in no god than in a god who would punish me for going to church. You believe in a god who loves men and women equally. I guess we’re both looking for something that makes sense in our own lives.”

We’re bonding as friends, Mina thought, despite my best efforts. I don’t regret it.

A few minutes later, Mina put him in a trance, and gave him this week’s anti-addiction suggestions. She told him he wasn’t an alcoholic anymore. He was in control of his life. He was free from stress, free from hangovers. He had the power to relax whenever he wanted. That power came from inside him.

When she’d finished, she studied his sleeping face for a moment. It wasn’t unusual for her clients to look peaceful in trance. It was unusual for them to look handsome! What could be wrong with...

He’d never know...

After all, she’d touched his hair last week...

Mina leaned forward so that her chin nearly touched his shoulder. He had a pleasant scent, and had shaved carefully that morning. As quickly and briefly as she dared, she rubbed her cheek against his, savoring the smoothness of his skin.

All right! Enough! She knew that wasn’t right. Russell would be horrified if he ever found out. He’d sue her, and she’d have no defense.

The next evening, Russell dreamed.

It was the intermission. Russell saw the broken chandelier rising up to the ceiling.

“It’s like being in a movie, isn’t it?” she asked.

He turned to the person next to him. It was her, the woman from the taxicab, and she was even lovelier than he remembered. Her cloak was gone, and she was sitting beside him, glamorous in her black gown. A dark corset with purple laces wrapped around her luscious midsection.

“What’s...” he began, but stopped himself. He couldn’t ask her name, even though it was the one thing he wanted to know. This had to be a dream, and he couldn’t wake up like he had before, not yet.

“It’s more like being in a dream,” he told her.

She grinned at him. “Oh, so I’m the woman of your dreams now?”

What wonderful lips she had. They were parted in an easy smile, practically begging to be kissed. “Now and always,” he said, trying not to stumble over the words. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get your number!”

“What’s past is past.”

“Not for me,” Russell said. “This is the clearest dream I’ve ever had. I wish I could control it. I don’t want you to disappear!” He took her hand in his, afraid if he looked away the scene would change and he’d find himself somewhere else.

“Why do you think I’m here now?” she asked.

“Don’t you want to be?”

“It’s what you want,” the woman told him.

“Right. I’ve been seeing a hypnotherapist. Maybe I’m in better touch with my subconscious or something. I guess it makes sense that I’d see you!”

“I’m what you dream of?” she said, tilting her head to one side.

“I just want to get to know you.”

She smiled enigmatically, and there was a sparkle deep in her dark eyes. “Did I mention I’m a witch?”

He gazed into her eyes. “I believe it.”

He bent to kiss her, and their lips parted.

He woke up.

Why did it have to be morning, Russell wondered. I have to go to work again. And what’s up with these dreams? Last night had been the longest dream he’d ever had, and he’d dreamed of the woman from Phantom.

He never quite got to kiss her, but at least he’d remembered the details pretty well.

Was it the hypnotherapy? He could think of no other explanation. But he couldn’t mention this to Mina Sutton. (“While you’re in there, could you give me more dreams of the woman I met at Phantom?")

Why had his subconscious decided she was a witch?

Maybe it was the stress at work. He always had to be in control. He had to anticipate everything, make sure the stocks he’d chosen were going up. He had to keep iron control over his emotions. He couldn’t let his boss get to him, no matter what he said. He had to stay professional, and not give his boss any excuse to fire him. He knew his boss was looking for one.

Is that why he was dreaming of a sexy, gorgeous witch? He could let her be in control for a while.

Russell imagined her capturing him with her eyes and putting him in a trance with the snap of her fingers. “You must obey me,” she’d whisper in his ear, then wake him up.

She’d stand in front of him. “Dance with me,” the woman from Phantom would tell him, and he’d take her in his arms. They’d dance, and she would return his kisses.

“Remove your clothes,” she’d whisper, grinning at him. He couldn’t stop himself from obeying her.

The alarm went off again. Shaking his head, Russell got out of bed and headed for the shower.

I’m hopeless, he thought. I’ll never find that woman again.

Even if I did, she’d run for her life if I told her about these crazy daydreams!

Something else occurred to him later that morning. Mina Sutton had been helping him stop the cravings for alcohol. It was working, too. Though he’d wanted to drink since he’d started hypnotherapy, he hadn’t drunk anything. He’d been sober for three whole weeks.

If hypnotherapy could reprogram him to stop drinking, could it program him to start dreaming?

He hit the internet on his lunch hour, and learned that it was possible. A person could be given a posthypnotic suggestion to dream something specific when they went to sleep.

But, Russell thought as he returned to work, he couldn’t ask Mina — Ms. Sutton — to do that. She was his therapist. She wouldn’t approve of his asking her to program him to dream of a woman he’d only known years ago for a few minutes. It was ancient history, before he was married, for Pete’s sake. Mina would tell him to concentrate on real life, real friends. Realistically, he had no chance of ever finding the woman from Phantom again.

He vaguely remembered Mina telling him that he could relax without drinking. The problem was, the most relaxing thing he could think of was spending time with her!