The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Russell’s wonderful brown eyes fluttered closed, and his body slumped forward so far that Mina had to catch him — otherwise, he would have fallen to the floor.

He’s a good subject, she considered. He really has been going deeper every time!

Mina nudged his entranced body onto the sofa, and once again felt the ache. It had been so unfamiliar to her, but it had become routine when she was with him. She had all this power. She could make him do things, think things, forget things — and she couldn’t use it.

Russell was doing magnificently. He was an outstanding subject. He hadn’t had a drink since their first meeting, and his cravings really were getting better.

There was no doubt in her mind that his subconscious would do anything she asked. He’d obediently gone right into a trance every time she’d triggered him, even when they’d almost had an argument.

Mina loved putting Russell into a trance.

Well, she couldn’t make him rob a bank, but he’d already given all the signs that he was attracted to her. Why had fate brought him into her life, and put her in a situation where she was obligated to ask about his ex? Argh!

Would Russell even object if she borrowed his mind for a while, indulged her daydreams?

She couldn’t do it. The other times had all turned out horribly. She could never touch him. It was appallingly unethical.

Maybe they could talk about it. She could listen to him say things without physically touching him.

“Russell, when you said you haven’t met any available women you wanted to date, have you met any unavailable women?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Mina Sutton.”

Her heart skipped a beat. There it was.

“Why would you want to date me, er her?”

“She’s amazing,” Russell whispered. “She’s so kind, and so gorgeous. Her voice gives me chills. She’s so smart. She listens. She’s interested in me.”

He thinks I’m gorgeous, she thought. She stood up and looked down at herself. She needed to lose weight. Her butt, her hips, her thighs, her stomach were all too big. She’d never been skinny, but she had been thinner.

He thought she was gorgeous, despite all that.

Mina sat down again. “What else do you think about her?” she asked.

“It’s not me,” he whispered. Was that sadness she heard? “She only listens because she’s my therapist. She’s interested because it’s her job.”

“I wish I could tell you this when you’re awake,” Mina whispered, so softly she wasn’t sure he could hear her, even in a trance. “I’d want to be your friend even if I wasn’t your therapist. I think you’re a great guy.”

She sighed. She changed her mind back and forth several times before she asked the last question. “Is there anything else you’d like me to know?”

“I want you to hypnotize me,” Russell whispered.

Huh?

What was he talking about? He was already in a deep trance. “Why do you want me to hypnotize you?” she asked.

“I want you to take advantage of me,” he said.

Oh, goodness, why had she asked that? She put her head in her hands, breathing hard. All this time she’d been tempted to take advantage of him when he was under. She wanted to turn on the music and make him ask her to dance again, to twirl her and hold her in his arms. She wanted him to kneel before her and tell her she was the most beautiful woman in the world, that he was in love with her and would do anything she asked. She’d never before felt this way about a client. And he wanted her to do it!

She had to get out of here. This was like...

Like their roles had reversed. She was the alcoholic, and he was her addiction. What she wanted was right in front of her, and she had to say no. She understood how he’d felt. She understood him completely.

If she did what they both wanted — if she took advantage of him when he was in a trance — she’d have just replaced his drug. She’d make him a hypnosis addict instead of an alcoholic.

Not just a hypnosis addict. She could make him addicted to her.

Every night they’d go home together. He’d take her in his arms, kiss her, make love to her — and then ask her to hypnotize him.

She would. She’d put him in a trance and give him suggestions to think he was the hero of a romance novel. She would be the heroine. He would wake up as a soldier, a viking, an artist, a prince.

And she would be the wife he came home to after the war. She would be the woman he kidnapped and fell in love with, the model he painted, the peasant girl he fell for.

He’d be the hero who met a witch on his quest, and she would seduce him, put him under her spell, and make him into her devoted love-slave. She would be a lioness, and he would be her prey. She could make it so the only thing he thought about was her.

Why? Why had the universe brought the perfect man to her, with the stipulation that she never touch him because he was her patient? He wasn’t a lifelong addict. This was just something that had hit him because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But that was the case with every alcoholic. He’d have to watch himself his whole life, be on constant guard against falling into the pattern of self-destruction.

This was insane. She wanted a hardworking man who would be a devoted husband. One who wanted to be equals, but still be a gentleman who treated her like a lady. She’d been a hypnotist for so long she could barely remember a time before hypnosis was a part of her life. She’d hypnotized her first subjects at a birthday party when she was ten. He wanted her to use this skill that defined her career — that defined her very core — to seduce him.

Could she betray his trust if he WANTED her to betray his trust?

She had to stop thinking about this. She was reading too much into this! She was projecting. She had decided he was what she wanted. He hadn’t actually said that, had he? It was just a case of him having a crush on his therapist.

“Russell,” she said weakly, “other than your ex-wife, what kind of women are you typically attracted to?”

“There was one woman I met,” he said softly. “I didn’t ask her name. I didn’t ask for her phone number. It was the worst mistake of my life.”

“Why’s that?”

“I didn’t ask because I was engaged to Alyson,” Russell confessed, his eyes still closed. “When things didn’t work out I couldn’t stop thinking I’d married the wrong woman, that she was the one I was supposed to be with, not her.”

Great, Mina thought. Russell and the lost love, the one that got away. “Where did you meet this woman?”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Phantom.”

“What? I mean, tell me the whole story.” The damn literal subconscious mind.

“I went alone to a performance of Phantom when Alyson was in Wheaton,” he said. “The power went out and I shared a cab with this woman.”

Mina gaped. She stared at him, and her hands started to shake.

“She was the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen. I’d never reacted that way to a stranger, but all I could think about was kissing her. I felt like we were connected. I couldn’t look away from her eyes.”

Mina’s whole body was shaking now. She couldn’t breathe. She slid off her chair and sat down on the floor, still trembling.

She remembered that night ten years ago so well. There’d been a powerful mutual attraction, but he’d never asked her for her number.

She’d even started a handshake induction. She’d done everything but the surprise “sleep!” command. For years she’d daydreamed about what would have happened had she gone through with it, and invited him home with her.

“I’ve never reacted to anyone that way, before or since,” Russell was saying. “She got out of the cab and I never saw her again. I’ve looked for her every day since I got divorced, but I’ve never seen her.”

Tears streamed down Mina’s cheeks as she hugged herself.

“I’m not even sure she exists, though I still dream about her sometimes. I think I just convinced myself of more than was really there because I ran the scene over and over in my head a thousand times.”

It was him. It was him all along.

“Russell.” Mina struggled to keep her voice steady. “What did she look like?”

“Black dress. Purple trim. Dark eyes. Blonde hair. Sexy, sexy eyes. Gorgeous face. Beautiful lips. Wonderful eyes. Creamy skin. Black cloak.”

I still have the dress, Mina thought. Even though she was trembling, she couldn’t stop herself. She reached behind her and took the pins out of her hair. She shook it loose, draping it around her shoulders.

How did he not recognize me?

My hair. He was looking for a blonde. I thought I looked better as a redhead when I started going gray.

What am I thinking about, Mina thought. I didn’t recognize him either. All I remember is sharing a cab ride with this handsome, sexy gentleman who didn’t seem interested.

That’s because he wasn’t available. He was engaged at the time! What I kept telling myself was right the whole time. He wasn’t interested.

But he sure is now, and sometimes life gives you second chances.

But there was still the problem, she thought. She couldn’t find a way around the problem, even if she was Russell’s lost love. (He’s wanted me all this time!)

He was her patient.

Yet no one could blame her for this. She’d have to be insane to stop now. She was a professional, but she was also human.

She could tell him what she’d been thinking, too.

“Russell,” she said from the floor, “when I snap my fingers you will wake up. However, when you awake you will see me with blonde hair. You will be absolutely convinced I have blonde hair.” She looked down at her collared white shirt and gray slacks.

“You will be convinced I’m wearing all black, but the buttons are purple.” She paused. “I’m wearing eyeliner, the most beautiful eyeliner you’ve ever seen.” She’d never gone a day without it when she’d been in college and grad school. She’d only stopped wearing it when she’d opened her practice.

Mina took a deep breath. “Wake up.”

She snapped her fingers.

Russell opened his eyes, took a deep breath, looked around, then spotted her on the floor.

“Ms. Sutton, what are you... Oh, my god. Oh my god.”

Her heart was beating so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

She didn’t expect what happened next: he slid off the couch and sat down on the floor next to her.

“You,” he was saying. “You. It was you all along. You’re my dream girl. Oh, Mina — I mean Ms. Sutton —”

“Call me Mina,” she said. Her voice came out way too high.

“Mina,” Russell repeated. “Mina. Oh, Mina. You. Please, tell me. Please, tell me you feel this too. No, don’t tell me. Yes, oh god. Tell me at least, did you feel it, in the cab, that night, years ago?”

She nodded.

“Can I, please?” He leaned toward her, then stopped. “Oh, please, please tell me you’re single. No, wait. Tell me the truth, whatever it is. Are you single?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

Russell kissed her.

It was perfect, their lips meeting and touching, there were sparks flying and suns exploding and two magnets rushing together to clasp, north and south joining as one. His hand was behind her head, cradling her. They kissed each other in desperate hunger. They kissed in the maddening need to be happy, to make their other happy, to complete the other half of their own self. They kissed, and it was slippery and wet, and their lips joined, their tongues joined, and they couldn’t get close enough.

“I have waited for this for so long,” Russell whispered amidst kisses.

“You want me too,” Mina gasped.

“I’ve always wanted you,” Russell told her, stopping only to breathe and to kiss. “I was supposed to be with you. The universe gave me a chance and I missed it. I thought I’d never see you again. I gave up. I only saw you in my dreams.”

“You dreamed about me?” Mina said, her voice still coming out too high. Oh, screw professionalism.

He nodded several times. “I dreamed of kissing you. Oh, you’re here, you’re here.”

Mina had long since lost track of time when things calmed down. Russell had maneuvered himself so he was mostly on top, with his arms wrapped around her; but eventually she had to surrender to physical reality and go to the bathroom. When she emerged, he was sitting on the sofa. She sat beside him, and he pulled her into his arms.

After several more minutes of kissing, he let her go — this IS like being in a romance novel, she thought — and she lay down on the sofa, her head in his lap. He looked down at her, his eyes burning in adoration, his fingers running through her hair. His touch was gentle and sensual. It had been months since she’d had worn her hair down in public — but she’d never had anyone touch her this way, worship her this way, ever.

And she was going to have to make him forget it.

“I don’t remember what I’ve told you and what I haven’t,” Russell said. “What was in a dream, and what was real. I was smitten by you. Completely smitten. Do you know that?”

Mina nodded.

“I felt a pull, like magnets. Do you know that?”

She nodded again.

“Do you feel that?”

“Oh, yes.” She was telling him. She was really telling him.

“You have the most hypnotic eyes I’ve ever seen,” Russell said. “Mina, I want you to hypnotize me again, and I want to look into your eyes when you do it.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with the eyes,” she said weakly.

“I know, but I want you to. Mina, I trust you with my life, you know that?”

“Yes,” she gasped. Why couldn’t they stay like this forever? Forget boyfriends. She wanted this from her husband.

“Please, tell me what you felt.”

“You were perfect,” Mina confessed. “You were so right for me. You were a gentleman in everything you did. And when I flirted with you, you picked up on all of it.”

“How could I not?”

“Most people don’t!” she exclaimed. “My eyes, my hair, my smile, even my walk, you noticed it all. I thought there was something wrong with me, because I could see how you looked at me and you didn’t ask for my number.”

“Never think that. Never think that. You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you.”

“Tell me more,” Russell implored. “Tell me what you were thinking.”

“You thought I was beautiful. You still think I’m beautiful,” Mina gasped. Please, don’t let this dream end. “I’m overweight—”

“You’re sexy!”

“I need to lose weight—”

“I want you,” Russell said.

“Once you’ve had me—”

“I’ll never stop wanting you.”

Mina was blinking back tears. This was a fantasy come true. Please, don’t make me wake up.

“Is that all you were thinking?”

Mina laughed. “You said my eyes were hyp — hypnotic?”

He nodded. “Oh yes.”

“I was in grad school,” Mina confessed. “Getting my CHt.”

“Your what?”

“Certified hypnotherapist. I could have hypnotized you. If you wanted me to.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“First time? I was ten.”

He looked away.

“What?” Mina reached out and guided his face back to look at hers with a trembling hand.

“You never needed to do one of those inductions,” Russell told her. “Your eyes hypnotize me. All you had to do is use your eyes on me. I have dreamed of this so many times. What if you had looked into my eyes and told me to call you? I would have done it, Alyson or no Alyson. I wish you had, for Pete’s sake. We should have been together.”

Mina giggled. “It doesn’t work that way, dear. I have to do an induction.”

“No you don’t,” Russell whispered. “I worship the ground you walk on. I don’t want to resist you. I couldn’t if I tried. I’m so scared that I’ll come on too strong and push you away, but I want to give you everything you want.”

Mina looked up at him, fear and sadness in her eyes. “That’s just it, Russ — you’ve spent the last ten years conjuring up this woman in your imagination from one meeting. One meeting. I don’t think I’m her. I don’t have magic powers. I can’t hypnotize you just by looking in your eyes.”

Russell stared at her. “You’ve been hypnotizing people since you were ten?”

Mina nodded.

“When you think of what you want, do you want what the Phantom and Christine had? Each person completed by the other? Two halves, one whole?”

Mina nodded again, desperately.

“It is you, Mina,” Russell said. “I’m sure. I want you.”

She could barely talk around the lump in her throat. “So am I.” She sat up on the sofa and turned to face him. His hands slid away from her body as she moved, but he reached for her again.

She took his hands in hers. “Russell, look into my eyes.”

He nodded wordlessly, his brown eyes locking on hers. She felt like he was staring right down into her soul.

“Look deep into my eyes.”

“Yes, mistress.”

She raised her hand and snapped her fingers. “Sleep.”

He fell into a trance.

How deep was he, Mina wondered as her eyes filled with tears again. She rose and went to the bathroom, dabbing the teardrops away with tissue and trying to fix her hair with trembling fingers. She couldn’t get it tied back properly again, so she settled for a ponytail.

Forgive me, she told him silently as she sat down facing him. Please forgive me.

She rattled off the final anti-addiction suggestions. He wasn’t an addict any more. There was a better way to relax, one that didn’t involve drinking. She told him to imagine a future, a future where he hadn’t had a drink in years. He’d loved his alcohol-free life. She told him to imagine his future self thanking his past self; she told him how proud he was of himself.

She turned off the illusions regarding her hair color and dress. Lastly, ruthlessly, she told her hypnotized patient to forget the entire conversation.

“No,” Russell whispered.

No? Damn, she hadn’t thought of that. She’d never considered it. Forgetting their interlude was against his nature.

She talked him into it, reminding him of patient-therapist boundaries, that it was impossible for them to be together, that he had to forget it to protect them both.

Finally he agreed. She woke him up. He thanked her, and went his way. Her other posthypnotic suggestion worked perfectly. He never noticed the two and a half hours of missing time.

She watched through the window until his car was out of sight. Then she sat down at her desk, put her head on her arms, and cried.