The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I closed the hotel room door gently behind me and locked it. The heavy curtains were drawn against the morning sun, so that the only light came from the short hallway that connected the bathroom and closet with the main room. I entered quietly, and looked to the right, at the king-sized bed. My eyes traced her form under the covers, the suggestion of her graceful legs and feet, the perfect curve of her hip, her shoulder, the generous tousle of dark, dark hair. Is there any collection of curves more perfect, more arresting, than the sensual roller coaster of a woman lying on her side? One slender arm was outside the covers, holding her cell phone to her ear.

The diffuse glow from the hall lamp cast a golden glow on her face, and I could see the dreamy, unlined repose there, not of sleep, but deep hypnosis. I spoke, softly.

“... and now you hear my voice here in the room, and you continue to relax, to go even deeper. Relaxing more, going deeper and deeper. Becoming more aroused, and relaxing more, feeling the wonderful, exciting contrast between deep desire and deep trance; serenely drifting, anticipating, relaxing more and more deeply all the while.” I reached over and slipped the phone from her fingers, turned it off, and set it on the night table.

“The sounds of my preparing to be with you relax you more and take you deeper. Each sound, the rustling, the movement, comforts you, relaxes you, and takes you deeper.” I slipped out of my clothes as quickly and quietly as I could, talking to her all the while, spinning visions of anticipation, impending ecstasy,

My socks and underpants joined the pile of clothing on the floor. “As you continue to relax, you’re anticipating the feel of my body, still cool from the outside air, in delicious contrast to the consuming heat you’re feeling now. Anticipating the pleasure to come, waiting for, wanting, needing my touch.”

I lifted the covers, exposing the long, tapering line of her back and the luscious swell of her bottom. As I slipped in beside her, I thought back over the sequence of events that had brought us to this moment.

We were on the phone, talking about her impending business trip that would bring her to my city, that would unite us for a couple of days. I’d be coming to her hotel for breakfast—and something more. We’d been lovers for years, but had only recently incorporated hypnoerotic play into our lovemaking. She loved my fantasies, and was surprised and delighted by the wide variety of scenarios I came up with. She accepted my suggestions eagerly, and enjoyed liberating flights of fancy as I transformed her into a fairy tale princess and me into her dark, mysterious lover, as mystical forces drove us together. She also loved it when I hypnotized her while we were making love and used the power of the trance to amplify a single sensation, to focus her entire body and mind on it, until she went nearly mad with passion, finally finding release in unprecedented, multi-orgasmic explosions.

I’d asked her about her fantasies, things that she wanted to enjoy, to experience. But she always demurred, saying, “Oh, I’m no good at fantasies; I’m better at remembering and reliving all of our wonderful times together—besides, I like your fantasies.”

That’s why I was surprised at our phone conversation, as we made arrangements for our visit.

“You know how I always tell you that I’m not good at fantasies?”

“Yes....”

“Well—I don’t know where this came from—but it was a humdinger.”

I smiled into the receiver. “Go on.”

She hesitated. I could tell she was nervous. I made some encouraging sounds, and she began.

“I’m imagining me in my hotel room. In bed, with nothing on. My cell phone rings, and it’s you. You’re on your way to see me, but instead of just letting me know that you’re en route, you hypnotize me. You take me into one of those deep, sexy trances, talking to me all the while as you approach the hotel. I’ve left a package for you at the bell desk, and it has my room key. As you come into the room your voice in my phone is replaced by your voice in the room. You take me deeper, then as you slip into bed beside me, I find myself coming up through the depths...”

Her voice had grown husky with passion; she was clearly aroused by the telling of her fantasy. I was, too—throbbing hard, mouth dry, as I imagined the scenario, its brilliant, erotic simplicity and the pleasure we would both derive from it.

“... and then we make love. I’m so hot, so ready for you....” She trailed off.

I was capable of one word. “Wow,” I croaked.

There was a self-conscious silence on the other end of the line. I swallowed hard and repeated, “Wow.” I adjusted the bulge in my pants, cleared my throat, and said again, “Wow. Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know, but...”

“We can do this...”

“I’d love to do this...”

“We will definitely do this.”

We both laughed as our words tumbled over one another’s as we sensed and fed upon our mutual excitement. We were both trembling with anticipation as we hung up.

The night before we were to meet I sent her an e-mail. I had sent her hypnotic e-mails and instant messages in the past; she would hear my voice in her head as she read them. They had been very effective.

I wrote,

I’m still loving your fantasy. Let’s see how well we can make it come true!

I’ll call you before I come up, with a very special message....

A deeply relaxing message; a deeply arousing message. A voice that you love to hear, lulling you, exciting you, thrilling you.

Taking you deeper and deeper, into relaxation, passion, and pleasure.

You’ll be eagerly anticipating my call, wanting it so much, already in a trance, consuming your thoughts, ready to go into a deep, sexy dream, a dream to come true, a dream to rouse you and arouse you from.

Think of the wonderful pleasure of being in a deep trance, deeply relaxed, deeply receptive, waiting serenely for your lover’s touch, going even deeper under my mesmeric stroking, the perfect calm before the perfect storm. See it happening in your mind’s eye. Feel it happening in your body’s most sensitive places.

Want it to happen.

Sleep well. Sleep deeply. Dream and fantasize, fantasize and dream about the morning.

Good night, lover.

A few hours later, I checked my incoming messages. She had written,

Oh_my_gawd. What you do to me! You are incredible. I already am SO aroused, so ready, so eagerly anticipating your phone call, your voice, your touch. Tomorrow can’t get here soon enough, but until it does, you bet I will dream and fantasize, and fantasize and dream about the morning. After I re-read your note about 50 million more times.

See you in the morning, my love, my lover.

Our hypnoerotic adventure had begun.

As I approached her hotel, I flipped open my phone and called her. Her “Hello” was husky and soft.

“Good morning. Where are you?”

“In bed.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Mmmm. Just the sheets.”

“Good. Very good. I want you to relax now, relax very deeply, and listen to the sound of my voice. Listen to it as it takes you deeper and deeper, letting all thoughts other than our being together flee from your mind.”

Before I approached the bell desk, I said, “Relax, drift, and dream, dream of our lovemaking for these next few minutes, and I will speak to you again shortly.”

I picked up the package, found the room key, and raised the phone again. “The anticipation is growing, you can feel me drawing nearer to you. And you find this wonderfully comforting, deeply relaxing. The sound of me entering your room will relax you more deeply, even as your dreaming desire, your anticipation grows. The sounds of me preparing to be with you will relax you more deeply, even as your desire smolders within you, ready to burst into flames.”

Our connection held during the brief elevator ride, and it was just a few steps to her door. I slipped the card into the lock and entered.

As I lay down beside her she felt blast furnace hot against my cool skin. I drank in the heady perfume of her skin, her hair. My throbbing member beat with gentle pressure against her bottom and I feasted on the utterly relaxed, sleepygirl expression on her face. I brushed her hair back for a better view. She rolled towards me, her breasts shimmering softly, and extended an arm in a sleepy, welcoming embrace.

Her embrace was something rare and wonderful. She had a way of hugging, of holding me that was incomparably sensual. The only way I can describe it is “complete.” Like Goldilocks’ porridge, it was not too, loose, not too tight, but just right. Every bit of her arm and hand exerted equal amounts of the same gentle pressure on my back. The expression on her face was sensual, too, as though she’d been dreaming of sex. And indeed she had: eyes shuttered, lips parted, begging to be kissed.

She continued rolling over, melting into me, as she came up through the depths. Her smile of pleased-to-see-you greeting quickly gave way to a hungry, devouring kiss as she pulled me to her. Our legs intertwined, my knee slipping between hers. I could feel her heat on my upper leg, then she moved again, so that I was centered between her creamy thighs. I slipped into her and her eyes closed again, making a sweet moan as I filled her.

It was no time for foreplay or teasing; she was greedy and demanding, needing to be filled, needing to be satisfied. We made love hard and fast. She quickly scaled the heights of her first orgasm, and had hardly caught her breath when the next one started. She was a storm cloud, and I had to discharge the powerful lightning bolts that had built up within her. I took her to the precipice and over the edge a few more times, hard as a hammer with the pride of pleasing her so deeply, so thoroughly.

I looked down at her, smiled, and spoke my first words since I’d joined her in bed. “Am I in the right room?”

Her eyes widened in surprised-ingenue fashion, and she said, “I don’t know; who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Exactly what you want me to,” I replied.

And I took her to the heights once again.

I held myself on my arms, a few inches above her freely perspiring body, rocking slowly with her, catching my breath. She opened her eyes and smiled, “You’re incredible.”

“It takes two,” I replied, in our ritual exchange.

She continued to gaze up at me, hips rocking gently. Her hands rested lightly on my forearms. I lifted myself higher, until we were touching in only one place—one utterly divine place. I slowed and deepened my movement, arcing up into her, making my movements very slow and deliberate. Her eyes widened at the change, and I said,

“Concentrate on the sensations you’re feeling now, the slow, fascinating rhythm, focus on the slow, sensual stroking, think of nothing else. Let all other thoughts, all other sensations fade away as you relax, as you become utterly attuned to the marvelous, entrancing sensations you’re feeling. Let go of everything else, and relax. Relax deeply as you concentrate on the timeless rhythm.”

Her eyes closed, her lips parted deliciously, and I felt a wave of relaxation go through her body as she sighed gently. Her hands fell away from my forearms, landing softly on the sheets. I moved slowly, steadily, as if I were a magic wand, mesmerizing her with sure, steady strokes. We’d discovered that hypnosis during lovemaking was a special turn-on for both of us, for a dozen different reasons. It opened psychic lines of communication that enhanced and reinforced all the other connections. She loved hearing me describe the delicious things I was doing to her, telling her what she was going to feel, with sly suggestions and bold assertions. She was invariably surprised and pleased when they happened, just as I’d said.

I kept up a stream of imagery. “Every part of my body is making love to every part of your body. Feel me in every nerve, every fiber. Totally focused on the pleasure, feeling it build and build, building until you can’t contain it any longer, until energy bursts forth along every nerve, every muscle, every part of you.”

She started breathing faster and her body started working again, as the same rhythm that had lulled and entranced her now energized and encouraged her. She picked up the pace, and I matched her, movement for movement. I felt us both moving into the zone, she for her finale, me for my all and everything. Our impending orgasms loomed before us like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow—an incomparably beautiful journey concluded by riches beyond measure. I whispered mad things in her ear, letting my desire for her speak, giving my passion full voice. We caught fire, we melted, we fused.

We were lost in one another’s arms for a long time, until it was time for me to go.

We showered, we dressed, we held each other tightly at her door, as if we’d never let go, even though I’d see her again the next day.

She pulled back a little and smiled up at me, one eyebrow arched. “Give me a call some time.”

I grinned. “OK, I’ve got your number.”