The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

We dressed up nicely for Tracey’s magic show. Jack wore slacks, shirt and tie with a suit-jacket. I wore a low cut red dress and my tallest heels. I was excited, but I wasn’t very nervous—I’m sure my regular hypnosis sessions with Tracey had something to do with that!

Jack started driving, and apparently we knew where we were going, because soon enough we were pulling into the circle driveway of a large mansion just outside of town. We handed the keys to the valet. Once inside, a man in a tuxedo directed us downstairs to the “media room.”

The media room was dark, with just enough light to find our way. It was set up like a small theater with a few rows of luxurious leather recliners for seats. There was room for about 20 people, and it seemed like we were the last to arrive—the last seats in the house were front and center by the stage. That was fine by me! I was looking forward to watching Tracey’s show. There was a projector screen on a low stage, with a heavy theatre curtain behind it.

But there was no sign of the magician. After a few minutes, when my eyes had adjusted to the dark, I noticed there was a spinning spiral... projected… faintly...

“...and 5! Everyone awake. Welcome to the first annual Hypno-magic show!”

Of course I drifted off watching the spiral projected on the screen. Tracey was on the stage wearing a skimpy black bikini. She had a “rabbit-ears” headband, a bow-tie, and shiny black heels.

“This is probably the first show of it’s kind. We’re here today because of this beautiful young lady in the front row. Come up on stage here.

She was looking at me. I stepped up onto the low stage, blushing at the attention.

“She decided to live out her dreams, seize the day, and ask me to begin work on this ambitious project. A year later, here we are—an X-rated magic show where the entire audience is hypnotized!”

Wait—is THAT what I asked for?! Uh... Am I on stage for an “X_Rated” show? I tried to sneak back to my chair, but the people in the audience were cheering and clapping... for me.

I had a few questions: Are they really all hypnotized? Does that include my husband? Or me, for that matter? Am I in over my head here? Tracey saved me from my inner thoughts by sending me back to my seat.

“Now setting this up wasn’t easy. You have all worked hard practicing your trances with me. Many more started this journey, but didn’t make the grade in time. For them, we’ll keep practicing and try for next year’s show.

“But now all our dedication has paid off. Through hypnosis, I can now perform magic tricks that traditional performers can only dream of. I simply make you believe that you’re seeing what I want you to see.”

With that, she began to slowly float off the stage and into the air, stopping about two feet above the floor.

“And because we’re all adults here, I can lose this outfit.”

She held up her hand and snapped her fingers. The skimpy swimsuit vanished, leaving her fully nude except for the heels, bow-tie and ears. She was truly beautiful, too. Seeing her proudly floating there, exposed for all of us to see, my heart skipped a beat, and my breath caught in my throat. If I wasn’t horny before, I certainly was at that point! This was hitting all of my buttons.

“Very good everyone! You all responded perfectly. Every time I snap my fingers, you get more aroused.”

She snapped again and I knew she was right. Wow. I squeezed my legs together and gripped the arms of my chair.

“Some triggers like this will work on all of you, while some of my tricks tonight will only work on one person, for the enjoyment of everyone else.”

She grinned. “For example, the gentleman in the back there will have an orgasm every time the lights go out!”

We all turned around in our seats to see who she was pointing to.

“No sir, not you… you… ok, I’m not using names here, because that adds to the allure.”

She sighed dramatically, and winked at me. Then the lights went out.

“Aaaaahhhh! Ungh! Uh! Ah! Uh!” In the dark, a man in the back was cumming HARD. The grunting and gasping went on for a surprisingly long time. Some of the audience members were giggling quietly in the dark.

The lights came back on. “I was referring to YOU, sir. YOU will come every time the lights go off tonight.”

A man in a striped shirt was hiding his face in his hands and breathing heavily. His face was bright red. “Holy shit,” someone in the audience muttered. No kidding.

Tracey was standing on the floor again. “Now that we all know how this works, let’s get a volunteer from the audience.

“Yes... the girl jumping up and down and waving her hand back and forth—you’ll do just fine. Come back up on the stage.”

I tried to turn around to see who had volunteered, but I was already stepping onto the stage with Tracey again. My body had volunteered without me.

“I… but I didn’t…”

“Yes, you have a very well behaved body. Now that you believe it’s back under your control, would you be so kind as to step through this doorway?”

While I was trying to figure out how I got here, Tracey had reached behind the curtain and pulled out a large rolling door assembly on wheels. She positioned it in front of me and motioned to the doorknob.

“Step right this way,” she said with a grin.

Looking around, I shrugged, opened up the door and stepped through. I immediately noticed that my dress was gone! Standing in my underwear on a stage in front of a room of strangers, I did the first thing I thought of—I turned and lept back through the doorway.

...and stumbled. My heels had vanished as I stepped through!

...and my underwear was gone too! I tried to cover myself with my hands as I looked around in a panic.

Tracey calmly looked me up and down. “Well. I never expected you’d want to go through the doorway TWICE! Now you’re as nude as I am. Still, you look a bit uncomfortable. Let’s get you covered up.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to disappear. In a moment, Tracey came back with another rolling structure. I opened my eyes a crack to see. It looked like a tall set of stacked boxes with a lifesize silhouette of a shapely woman painted on each side. The front panel of each box was attached by a hinge, and Tracey was opening them all up. Once opened, there was just enough space inside for me to stand.

So I stepped inside. She closed the panels one at a time, starting at my feet, and working her way up. After closing a panel, she’d secure it in place with a sturdy metal latch that made a solid “thunk” that sounded loud and ominous from my position inside the box. There was just enough room inside the box for me. My shoulders touched the side walls. My chest pressed up against the hinged front wall. The top of my head touched the top of the box.

There were five door panels. Five stacked boxes that made up one open space on the inside, and we’re securely latched together on the outside. I was very much trapped. She left the last one open so I could see out.

“Now you’re not exposed anymore. Feeling okay?”

I nodded bravely.

“You arrived at the show with this handsome man here. Sir, why don’t you come up on stage here and help me—I’ve read that this part of the trick can be dangerous!”

The naked magician was talking to my husband. “Sir, your job is to convince your wife that this is perfectly safe, and that you’ve done this plenty of times.” The audience chuckled.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the box that you see before you is divided into sections for the head, chest, hips, legs, and feet. There are slits cut into the sides, allowing us to slide… THESE razor-sharp metal blades into the boxes, easily slicing through the maiden helplessly held captive within.”

The “blades” weren’t very blade-shaped. She held up flat squares of sheet-metal with a rounded wooden handle along one side. The metal edges really did look sharp. I trusted Tracey, and I knew that at least some of this wasn’t real, but that wasn’t very reassuring given those very real looking sharp edges. And I didn’t really have a y choice at this point.

“You will place TWO blades in the slot between each section,” she continued. “Two at the ankles, two at the top of the legs, and so on. Once they are in place, they will serve as the top and bottom of each segment, and your wife will be in several pieces… hopefully still doing well.”

She handed the blades to him and turned back to face the crowd.

“This young man is about to chop up his wife. Please give us absolute silence. It’s critical that we avoid any distraction. The tiniest whisper and she may not survive!”

With that, the lights went out and came back on immediately. The man in the striped shirt screamed in surprise as he immediately came again, grunting rhythmically, his hips bucking as he tried not to fall out of his chair. In a few seconds he was through, panting heavily, trying to catch his breath.

“I’m just kidding, she’ll be fine.”

Then she reached up and closed the box over my face. I swear I saw one of the “fake” bunny ears she was wearing twitch.

It was dark inside the box, but I could see a bit of light shining on my chest through one of the slits she mentioned. Sounds were muffled too. I could hear her talking quietly to my husband just outside the box, but I couldn’t make out most of the words. I did hear her tell him to push the panel all the way through in one big thrust.

I think I heard it before I felt it—a metallic “ssssh-ing!” that reverberated in the box. That’s when the cold hit my ankles. The box wasn’t big enough for me to see down past my chest, but I knew what had happened.

“Are you okay in there?” asked Jack.

It wasn’t painful, and I could still wiggle my toes. “Yes. I’m okay.”

It felt like a really tight anklet, or even a tourniquet made of ice. No. It wasn’t exactly cold, it was numb. Not numb all through my feet, but just where the metal was. I felt him slide the second blade through the same spot. I suppose he could now separate the stack, picking up the top box holding most of me, leaving my feet in a little wooden cube with the sharpened sheet-metal “blade” as the lid.

This was… actually pretty hot. I was naked and all alone inside my box. With nobody able to see me, I started masturbating. The box was pretty good at muffling sound, so I may have let myself get a bit carried away. I was playing with a nipple with one hand, my fingers squeezed between my chest and the rough wood of the box. My other hand was between my legs, fingers moving rhythmically in and out. This may have kept me from losing any fingers as the next blade suddenly sliced through my legs, barely lower than my crotch—“ssssh-ing!”

I think I screamed, or maybe shouted in surprise. Either way, it came out sounding much more sexual than it should have (although I suppose I was masturbating at the time).

I heard Tracey laughing. “What’s going on in there?”

“Sorry, I…” I was too startled and out of breath to really answer. “I’m… phew... I’m… … uh, fine.”

She said something to the audience, and they laughed. The second blade for that slot slid through as well now. I swear my pussy lips were actually touching the metal. Now the compartment with my legs had both a lid and a base. I tried moving my legs, but I wasn’t able to do much. It seemed like they were fused in place wherever they were touching the metal. I could wiggle my knees around a bit, but my ankles and upper thighs were locked firmly in place. I wasn’t walking out of here without Tracey putting me together again.

The place where the metal met my skin felt weird when I ran my fingers along the seam. It kind of felt like the metal had a hole cut in it to exactly match the shape of my thigh, but my skin was glued to the edge. Neither my skin nor the metal would move at all where they met. Still though, the metal was slightly flexible near the outer walls of the box when I pushed on it with my fingers.

“ssssh-ing!”

The next blade went through my hips. My hands were now trapped in the box with my crotch, but were near the outer edges of the space. With my arms in one box and my hands in another, my wrists were solidly stuck in place.

Right then, I really wished I could go back to masturbating again. The fact that it was now out of reach made the desire so much worse. I held my breath as the next one went through that same slot. That just left my head. I don’t know why I was more nervous about that one than the others—I was already in pieces—but something about this cut was different. It was scarier… but also… sexier?

I half expected someone to yell “off with her head!” but I never heard it if they did.

“ssssh-ing!”

A cold blade sliced through my neck. I could see the shiny metal in the dimness of the box. The numb sensation encircled my neck like a collar—like a metal collar just taken out of the freezer. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until I let it out. I was surprised to discover that I could still breathe. In retrospect, it would have been a short performance otherwise.

There was some loud clunking noises, followed by a bright light suddenly filling my box. I blinked and squinted at Tracey and Jack smiling back at me. Tracey ducked down out of sight and fiddled with some more latches. She probably opened at least a couple of door panels, and it occurred to me that I was still naked. I instinctively tried to cover myself, but my hands were trapped.

That magician stepped back to admire her work… or perhaps to watch me—trapped, exposed, and trying to squirm. Probably both.

“Now let’s have some real fun!” The bunny had an evil glint in her eye as she closed the top door panel, leaving my head in darkness again.

Then the spinning started. My box was on a rolling platform. They’d spin me around a few times, then stop and play with the latches a bit. Then they’d spin me some more. Whatever was happening, the audience loved it. There was applause and laughter at every stop. Finally, Tracey says, “let’s make sure all her parts are facing the same way again, and then see what else we can do with her.”

There was a bit more spinning, more latches, and a quick open-close of the door in front of my face. “Yep, just checking that’s the front,” she said cheerfully before closing me in again.

Those rabbit ears on her head were definitely real.

“Now, why don’t you take that one over there and I’ll take this one over here.”

Suddenly my box was falling over! I tried to catch myself, but… yeah. Of course I was being carried. I was set down with a thud, and the door was opened so I could see. It took me a moment to figure out what I was looking at.

The audience was off to my right. Tracey was the one who opened the hatch. She stood on my left, towering over me. Across the stage, ahead of me, Jack stood by a table with a box on it. The side of the box that was facing me was open. The box contained boobs. Tracey looked tall because my head was in a box on a table. My feet, legs, and hips weren’t anywhere in sight.

She stepped forward to address the audience, partially blocking my view of my chest.

“Now our friend in the back row is not the only one here with a special response to a trigger. Cast your eyes upon the young man on the stage when I say… PINCH!”

I watched the look of surprise on my husband’s face as he reached over towards my chest-in-a-box.

OUCH! My left nipple got a pretty serious squeeze/twist. That was quite a bit harder than I’d like it. It was also really strange to feel it happening to my own body, despite being all the way across the room.

“Pinch! Pinch! Pinch!”

“Aaah!!”

That really did hurt, but it was starting to turn into pleasure as well. I kind of wanted him to keep going at this point, though maybe a bit gentler. Instead, my “head” box was closed and picked up again. When I was set down, the door stayed closed for a while. I got a few more pinches before my door was opened again. I was across the stage next to my husband. Someone had gotten him a chair, and he was smiling at me.

“Sorry about the pinching! How do you feel?” he asked me quietly.

“Horny... Helpless... Excited. I’m a bit freaked out, but I want more. I’d um, even enjoy more pinching.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m feeling pretty helpless and I’m not the one trapped in a bunch of boxes!”

“If my chest is around here, could you keep playing with my nipples?”

“Ha ha! Sure, if Tracey’s okay with it.”

Tracey stepped back proudly brandishing a screwdriver. “Sure, go ahead. I just need the feet—I’m going to take the bottom panel off the box.”

That didn’t sound good.

Talking to the audience, she said, “so the rightful owner of these feet once told me that she would like to be ruthlessly tickled while helplessly trapped… actually, she told me lots of things while she was in trance.”

Jack was reaching behind me and sliding something heavy across the table, out of sight behind my box. Suddenly I felt his hands on my breasts, gently caressing and teasing.

It felt good, but I was a bit too distracted by what Tracey was saying—it wasn’t true! Sure, I enjoyed reading or watching “tickling” porn, but I would never have said I wanted to be the victim. At least, not in real life! There are things that I fantasize about that would just be too… “too much” to actually do.

“So we’re going to pass her feet around and let everyone get a turn tickling her.”

As she spoke, she was using the screwdriver to remove the brackets holding the bottom side of the box in place, leaving the soles of my feet exposed.

When she was done, she stood up with the box and looked at me. “Are you ready?”

I was scared. But I was also so horny I’d agree to just about anything. I wasn’t sure I could handle that much tickling, but I didn’t want to chicken out.

“Do it,” I said.

I don’t know what I could say to describe being endlessly tickled by a room full of strangers. I’ve seen videos online of women being tickled while in bondage so extreme they could barely wiggle. In some ways, I was even more helpless than they were. Yes, I was securely locked in place wherever the metal blades pierced my body, but I was also separated from my feet by quite a good amount of distance. Just seeing my feet being carried away from me was distressing in a way that I can’t quite put into words. Bondage takes away my freedom and my movement, this was like it was “me” that was being taken from me. This was helpless in a way that went well beyond being tied up.

The tickling itself? Well. Looking back on it now, it was easily the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. Nothing in the world could ever come close. Would I do it again?

HELL NO!

Calling it torture doesn’t come close to describing it. It was BAD. I was helpless at the beginning. I had long ago handed control of my mind and body over to Tracey, the magician hypnotist human bunny. And yes, I had agreed to it. But when the tickling didn’t stop after a while… I lost control. I lost… coherency. Completely. I—I would love to experience that again, but I’m much too scared to. I hope I don’t have to, but…

Tracey said this was only the first of an annual event. I don’t know what my body is going to volunteer me for next time, and that scares me a bit... but it’s also thrilling.

I worried that the rest of the show might be as “thrilling” as the first act. If so, I doubted that I could take it!