The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

1.

Haskell Nelson was the kind of boy mothers want their daughters to marry. He was polite, friendly, intelligent—although not too intelligent, not one of the lost and arrogant brainy ones. He was not an intellectual. He came from a respectable family and had respectable prospects himself. He was a hard worker, had held a job all through high school, sung in the church choir, was on the tennis team, and didn’t go nuts on weekends. After two years at State College, he knew he was going to be an orthodontist. He was not the kind of boy, as the saying goes, who might make a woman feel like a million dollars, but there was an awfully good chance that after twenty years—maybe even ten—he would have a million dollars. Mothers whose daughters married a boy like Haskell Nelson could sleep satisfied. But, then, they wouldn’t have to sleep with him. Their daughters—but this was seldom in their thoughts—longing for something more than split-level somnolence, might find their sleep less satisfying.

It was not surprising, then, that Harriet Baker was delighted when Haskell came over one Sunday afternoon carrying a bouquet of flowers “for the house” to tell her and Warren that he had proposed to their daughter Jody—everyone called her Bunny—and was seeking their blessing. They took out the bottle of Spumonti they had been given at Christmas but never opened, and Warren got four long stem glasses from the high shelf in the pantry and Harriet washed them, and they toasted the couple’s future.

Jody was a bunny, pug nosed, blonde, pudgy, sweet herself and plagued with a sweet tooth that kept her endlessly trying to stick to a diet. Haskell was a Teddy Bear, slightly overweight, too, and relatively hirsute back and front with a blackish thatch of hair poking out from his shirt at the throat and covering his back and shoulders. He needed to shave twice a day if he were to look well-groomed, and in his car he kept an electric shaver, which he plugged into the cigarette lighter when he drove to the mall from the medical center for lunch every afternoon.

He worked long hours, and they decided that Bunny would do a four hour shift every day, till lunch time, from nine to one in the office as receptionist/bookkeeper. It was not only good fiscal policy, but it gave them a sense of common enterprise. Afternoons, she kept house, went shopping, prepared dinner, which they ate later than most families in Hathaway Estates, at nine, half an hour after Haskell got home.

Almost immediately they tried to make a baby, and that was the impetus for their nocturnal embraces. But after more than three years, although his practice was going very well and they had easily managed to move from a ranch to a large colonial, they were still childless. Tests showed nothing wrong with him or his capacity to produce sperm, and Bunny felt a diminution in her value as a woman when she learned of her own infertility.

He was comforting and did not recriminate. Why should he? There was no fault, only misfortune. Nevertheless and surprisingly, Bunny found herself irritated by a suppressed resentment towards him. His never getting angry bothered her. Even though it would have been irrational, showing some anger would have shown that he’d had a real desire for a child, just by his expression of frustration over its having been thwarted.

Bunny, of course, felt guilty about her grievance, for holding his kindness, his temperateness against him. What! Did she really want a husband who made her life bitter when she was already pained? She knew it was her problem and best she’d better get rid of it or it would poison the well of their entire marriage. After all, they could adopt. He’d suggested it, in fact, before she’d even thought of it. But that gave her, strangely, just another cause for resentment and regret. It wasn’t just having any old child. It was something about her body. It annoyed her he did not understand that. And she regretted her annoyance. How could he know how a woman would feel?

It was too much, and she realized she was not being fair. Her remorse made her affectionate and solicitous, and Haskell felt himself a blessed man to have a wife who bore a misfortune with the equanimity she displayed, and this happiness of his reinforced her angry resentment and her efforts to stifle it.

Food, of course, was one of the ways, the major way, she controlled the beast of her discontent. She threw herself into gourmet cooking and into endless munching, and plump though she’d always been, now she began to be seriously overweight.

Typically, Haskell did not complain about her weight gain. She did, and he was solicitous. He was supportive in her dieting, and even lost a few pounds himself because of the new lower calorie meals she began to serve. This, too, was a bitter irony for her because she had no success at all in losing weight or in curbing her appetite.

Her battle with her weight became the understood reason for the periods of frozen anger that began to appear and disturbed the apparent contentment of their marriage. After one of her “spells” she would apologize to him explaining how she was being driven crazy by an appetite she found it impossible to control even though she was struggling to do that. He always understood.

And then it came to him. A colleague had asked him why he wasn’t using natural hypnosis instead of Novocain or gas for his patients. He’d answered that he doubted its effectiveness. His colleague demurred and invited him to go to a seminar on Hypnosis in Dentistry he’d been attending to see what a powerful and effective tool hypnosis actually could be. Haskell had no objection and was astonished at how completely wrong he’d been and how strongly the hypnotist could alter attitudes, perceptions and sensations, especially after he saw an actual root canal performed on an actual patient by an actual dentist using only hypnosis as an anesthetic.

It was while driving home reflecting on what he’d seen and determined to sign up for the course and use hypnosis in his practice that he thought of Bunny’s weight problem. That, surely, where everything else had failed, might well be amenable to hypnosis. Why not? It was worth a try. When he got home and he recounted his day, he told her he thought maybe she ought to try hypnosis.

She was reluctant, expressed doubt, joked about being made to quack like a duck, but ultimately said she would try it, agreeing that it couldn’t hurt and that it might do some good.

2.

Max Frantisek was in his sixties, tall, wiry, eyes gray, like Homer’s dawn, simultaneously magnetic and distant, a head full of thick iron gray hair, a firm jaw, strong teeth still deeply planted in healthy gums, a craggy face, and a tender smile of absolute acceptance. Bunny felt comfortable in his presence the moment she walked in and was drawn easily into his orbit. She told him she was at her wits end because she was trying to lose weight but was only gaining more no matter what she did and that her husband suggested she try hypnosis.

He looked at her with an uninterrupted gaze as he listened. As she spoke her words began to slur and she floated into the sphere of trance.

In his rich east European baritone he told her she was becoming smaller and smaller and that soon nothing would remain of her except that part of her that wished only to obey his commands. She knew that was the only part of her that was true and she was eager to become his obedient slave. She knew she wanted him to be her master.

He asked her what was the matter and she told him she did not love her husband.

He asked her why and she told him he was physically repulsive.

He asked her if she wanted to be thin and she said she didn’t care.

He asked her if she wanted to be glamorous and she said she didn’t care.

He asked her if she thought she was beautiful and she said she was fat.

He asked her if she wanted to feel sexually alive and she said she never had.

He asked her why and she said she found it disgusting to give herself to her husband.

He asked her what she wanted more than anything else and she said to surrender to a man who had the power to make her desire to give herself to him.

He told her that she was falling more deeply into a trance now, that whenever he said Surrender, she would return to this trance state. He told her that when he woke her she would remember nothing. He told her that whenever he said, I am going to offer several suggestions, she would find it easy to obey every one of these commands and impossible not to.

I’m going to offer several suggestions, he said when she was awake. She was smiling because she felt relaxed. First, you will no longer have any craving either to binge or to snack.

Second, he said, you will drive over to the health and fitness club I’ve written down on this card and ask for Ted. He trained with me. He’s first rate personal trainer and a master hypnotist. I suggest you begin working with him on a daily basis. When you see him, you will say, My word is Surrender, and after you do that, you will forget that you did, but every time Ted says the word, Surrender you will fall into the same deep trance you were in with me today.

She felt a glow of energy and said thank you Dr. Frantisek. She gave him eighty-five dollars and set off for the fitness club to meet Ted.

3.

It couldn’t have been more perfect if it had been a movie. She got off at a particularly woodsy exit of the Merritt Parkway, drove for a little while until she approached a chalet or a chateau. She wasn’t sure which was the right word, but it was a large brick and timber mansion with turrets and gables and lead cased gothic windows on beautifully kept grounds that were obviously tended by a very fine nurseryman. The rough flagstone path led up to an oaken double door that could have served as the portal to a carriage house. Inside the carpets were plush red. The receptionist sat behind a large oak desk. She stood up and came forward from behind the desk when Bunny entered. She was an attractive girl with a curvy figure dressed all in red—red suede heels, a red miniskirt and a silken shirt open at the throat revealing a delicate neck and prominent collar bones.

Bunny stammered that Dr. Frantisek suggested she come and that she see Ted. The receptionist smiled warmly and told her that she knew all about it, that Dr. Frantisek had called ahead, that Ted would be out soon, but if Bunny would have a seat she’d like to get her a cup of herbal tea. Bunny thanked her, accepted the tea and sipped it slowly, savoring the warmth, only then realizing that a chill had indeed crept into the autumn day.

Ted was made to order for the place. He was drop dead good looking. There’s no other way to say it even if it is a cliché. Bunny ought to have shrunk in such a presence, but she was aware of a calmness that she couldn’t explain: Dr. Frantisek’s recommendation? the soothing tea? At any rate she stood, offered her hand. His palm was dry and smooth and warm, and from it flowed a gentle and invigorating current. She knew she liked this man very much and was not alarmed that it might even be more than—she was married after all—she ought to.

But the thought slipped from her mind as Ted took her into a large room equipped like a gymnasium only far more luxuriously appointed than any gym she had ever seen in life or in the movies.

She gasped.

It is a good workout room, he said emphatically, and smiled looking deeply into her eyes with his brown green eyes that were as deep as a forest.

She smiled back as if aware that she was saying something of great importance and said without thinking, My word is Surrender.

Surrender, he smiled. The word melted in her mind like honey and her eyes fell shut and he caught her as she slumped and gently said, You can stand by yourself and you can open your eyes when you are in trance.

Her body regained its balance and her eyes opened although they were perfectly glazed and blank as if they were looking at something so far in the distant future that it was beyond what they could see.

He felt a surge of excitement. His cock stiffened.

You will only be at peace when you are obeying me, he said

4

Let us move the shot away from the immobilized pupils of Bunny’s eyes now, tracking across the splendid scene of her transformation to Ted’s oak desk which stands beneath the gothic window and its panes of leaded glass. The prospect is the autumn landscape. There is a calendar on the desk. The window is open, and the autumn wind, gently rustling the leaves of the grand maples—foliage which as if by cinematographic special effect bleeds from green to orange, gold and red and then tumbles earthward leaving branches bare—also rustles and then lifts and turns the leaves of the calendar revealing the tumbling days. Snow covers the branches and the landscape and January and February follow November and December until the cherry blossoms of April and the budding groves of May and June appear in the warm sunlight of the golden primavera.

By an intuitive sensitivity we recognize the lithe and bronzed body, well wrought now and beautiful, in a thong bikini, emerging from a stream in the mountains beyond the chateau, shaking water from her long blond hair. She is glowing with health and freshness, and although she is only a fictional image, as we look at her now, we are drawn to caress her, to fondle her sweet, firm and high breasts, bowing before her, bringing our lips to them, feeling their fullness and warmth meet our pressing kisses. We want to press ourselves against her flat midriff, stroke her long legs and plant our kisses in obeisance on the insteps of her regal feet. She smiles as Ted takes her in his arms and pressing his lips to hers gently plays against them with his tongue while simultaneously caressing the mound of her vagina softly until the lubricating moisture of her inner desire draws his finger into her and she dances on its tip.

Surrender, he whispers.

I surrender darling master, she breathes in response and the words mingle like embraces of the breath until she frees her lips from his command and slowly worships with her tongue the delicacy of his neck, and bows before the magnificence of his hard smooth torso, stopping by each nipple to suck from each the essence of her life, then passing the stony grandeur of his abdomen she kneels before him and slave to her desire and to his supreme mastery takes his iron cock into her mouth and holds his ball sac in her palm as if a priestess bearing a sacred vessel. She rides his cock to the depth of her throat and takes him to a height where she knows she commands, and he becomes her slave until he, restored to power by withholding his orgasm even as her throat convulses as if it were a cunt, pushes her mouth away and tearing off her bikini slams his way inside so that there can be no doubt of his mastery and her dependency. He rides her and she feels the pride of her submission and surrenders to him again and again with her every bucking movement, tearing at him with her kisses, gasping and losing her breath until flying like Pegasus she makes the final leap and her master pulls tightly on her bridal and with orgastic lashes brings her crashing into the shimmering sea where she floats upon her wings.

5

Haskell found himself again alone another evening after work, pursuing angry fantasies. He had suspended Bunny by the wrists with a taut rope, naked from a cross beam in the attic so that the tips of her toes nearly touched the floor, but not quite and they were immobilized by ropes that anchored them to spikes banged into the attic floor. He was dressed only in his sleeveless green scrubs and was lashing her with a whip. She was crying, Please forgive me, Haskell. I will try to become worthy of you. And he was laughing, calmly saying, So now Bunny bitch, how do you like this transformation? In actuality he was pulling at the flesh of his thick dick which was almost solid until the spill of semen fell from it and something hollow grew in him that tasted funny in his mouth and covered him with shame.

The ringing phone made him jump. It was Bunny calling to say she had extended her stay at the health farm for two more days but would be back when he got home Wednesday night, that she hoped he was enjoying his second bachelorhood and not being too naughty. Her silly teasing, so unlike the way the girl he’d married had spoken, and so far from an accurate perception of his state of mind, left him tongue tied and frustrated.

Wednesday night things went from bad to worse.

Haskell still kept long hours, even though there was no financial need to. He had lived up to everyone’s expectations with regard to his earnings. His practice was thriving, he had patented an improvement on a latex dental dam which had been bought by Dental Technologies for two and a half million dollars, and he made three-quarters of a penny on every dam sold.

This Wednesday night, however, he made it a point to get back even later than usual, not wanting to be the first one in the house if Bunny was late. Rather than be found waiting he wanted to keep her waiting. He stopped off after work at Benny’s Annex, had a few drinks, traded cigars and cigar stories with Gus behind the bar and managed to drive home without being stopped by the cops. And still he got there before Bunny.

When he finally heard her key turning in the lock, his fury was contained but high. She sensed it, and she wanted no part of it. She gave him a quick peck with closed lips, and he grabbed hold of her wrists.

Let go of my wrists right now, she said in a soft, cold and steady voice.

What the hell has happened to you? he shouted.

What’s happened to you? she said, pulling her wrists free of his unsure grasp.

Her words—it surprised her too, but she heard it as clearly as he did—were not spoken in anger, nor were they a reproach, but a real question, the kind that recognizes the presence of the other. Somehow something, despite the involutions of desire, ego and betrayal—all types of desire, all types of betrayal—somehow something worthy of being called human had happened. She had recognized, despite herself, it might be, that things were not as they ought to be with him. And he was, at that moment, haunted by the presence of something that was not present, not just by the burden of the world that was. He felt with a shudder the pull of a lost paradise, a desire for something that never had been but which he wanted with all his heart, even if he did not know what it was, and he began to cry. Grief, mixed with resentment, mixed with a need for pity, rushed out in sobs, and his fists clenched at he did not know what.

Her response, however, was disgust. She had no more desire to mother his weakness than to be the target of his anger.

Stop it, she said curtly.

Her words did stop him, as the elimination of oxygen stifles the life of a flame, and he was left in confusion, feeling neither his anger nor his grief but desperate incommunicable isolation.