The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter I

“And the more ... you try to speak ... the more you will find that ... the words ... will not even form ... in your mind .. to make up a sentence,” the confident therapist told Judy Rogers.

James Brady watched her settle. She had not been easy to trance down at all. She had a very analytical and super-critical mind, questioning him about loss of control and many other things before he had even asked her what her problem was. Her eyes looked right through him whenever he answered her, as if she were looking for every grain of truth in his replies in his words, his mannerisms and his body language.

Nevertheless, James Brady was not perturbed. He’d been expecting something like this since he had received the phone call. He just never expected she would be so domineering and critical.

In fact, after listening to her put him through the third degree he wondered why she was even there. He’d cracked and helped tough nuts before, in spite of themselves, and, he was confident he would again with her, in spite of self-erected defence mechanisms.

Besides, he was half-way there already. It was now only a matter of time, and of that, James Brady had plenty. What else did he have to do with his life except help people who did not want to be helped, initially?

Judy Rogers was visiting James Brady, hypnotherapist, to try to solve a situation with her relationship where she tongue-lashed her poor husband relentlessly whenever he did something that annoyed her, no matter how small or insignificant. Judy’s husband had told her in no uncertain terms that her problem was psychological and to fix it, or she could look for another husband to browbeat.

Judy definitely did not believe in hypnosis, but she had no-where else to go and nothing else to try. The possible loss of personal; control cold not be tolerated, even if it did happen to work. She thought it so much mumbo-jumbo, meant to be used with spineless wimps and weak people who couldn’t make a decision to save themselves, and, who would most times just let life control them, instead of the other way round.

She thought and believed that if she were any tougher, she’d rust, and trusted no man or no thing, except her husband. She believed the self-made image of herself as strong, spring-steel tough, and resistant to just about anything life could throw at her—except herself, which was why she was here. Judy had no answer for how to deal with herself.

But in her personal life, Judy loved her husband of ten years with all her being, and, at age thirty-two, even though she was a highly successful advertising executive with a famous company, reasonably attractive and well-preserved for her age, she didn’t really want to start over again with another man.

So, she was here, half-way deep in a hypnotic trance that she didn’t believe in, and fully focussed on the therapist’s voice in the hope that he could help her.

He had told her to just want the hypnotic procedure to work. She didn’t have to believe in it—just simply want it to work, and it would, he had reassured her confidently.

And now, Judy was doing exactly what he’d told her to—just focussing on his words and the sound of his soothing voice, ignoring everything else; or trying to, at least, and paying no attention whatsoever to interfering thoughts, sounds, feelings, emotions, and anything else that may cause any sort of distraction to her in her concentration.

Judy was now beginning to feel tingly all over, as if she were floating just a little above her body as she listened to the soothing sound of his voice. Her arms felt as light as a feather. In fact, she felt as if she not actually even touching then chair with any part of her body at all.

Her mind was calm and self-assured and became more and more that way as she listened to his soothing, repetitive voice. Every now and then the thought would drift in and out of her mind as to whether she was wasting her time and money in being here, but then it seemed to disappear at the next word he said.

James Brady smiled the smile of the quiet, persistent achiever that he believed himself to be. His favourite saying was that a mighty oak tree, the toughest of them all, could not be felled with one blow from an axe, but would topple after many, many little blows from someone who was persistent and confident and wielding a small knife. He was winning. Slowly, but surely.

Inch by inch he knew he had been wearing her down over the past forty-five minutes—a long induction, but one from which there would be no escape for her, despite her best efforts, consciously or unconsciously otherwise. He watched her shoulders slump more and more forward as he continued to speak to her of relaxation, naming medical names for the different muscle groups of her body that he was sure she wouldn’t know.

In fact, he didn’t know half of them himself. Yes, he concluded as he watched her sigh deeply and relax a little bit more. She was almost there now. Time to close the wound of the psychological surgery he had been performing.

“And ... in the future,” the therapist’s voice soothingly droned on, “whenever your husband speaks to you ... you will instantly fall silent ... cease speaking ... listen to him ... with all of your concentration ... completely agree with whatever it was he said to you ... without question ... without doubt... believing whatever he said ... to be of no concern to you... and in fact... a very good idea ... and complying with each suggestion ... to your fullest ability... even if you don’t want to.”

Judy accepted that as good advice, even though it went against her grain. Nevertheless, she wanted to do whatever it would take to fix her problem with her mouth and so save her marriage. It was just hard to accept things that went against her grain.

She was just not used to it. She told others what to do and how to act and behave. They didn’t tell her—until now. And it was only in sheer desperation that she was even entertaining the idea of considering the meaning behind the therapist’s soothing words.

“From this moment onward,” she heard him continue in the same soothing and strangely-broken tone. “and when you awaken ... you will respond instantly ... to the sound of your husband’s voice ... or the sound of my voice ... and you will not be able to speak ... no matter what thoughts of anger or frustration ... are going through your mind ... Is that clear to you ... for the sake of ... saving your marriage?”

“Yes.” Judy said and nodded at the same time, knowing that that statement was wishful thinking on the part of the therapist with the nice, soothing voice, simply because she knew herself as she had always been. Not to speak whenever she wanted to or felt the urge to? Right, Judy thought. And pigs might fly, too.

“That’s fine.” the therapist told her. “In a moment ... I’m going to count to three ... and snap my fingers ... When I do so ... you will find yourself wide awake ... and feeling fresh and alert ... and completely unresisting to anything your husband or myself might want to suggest to you ... irrespective of your own personal feelings ... Do you agree with that suggestion ... for the sake of ... saving your marriage?

“Yes.” Judy said again. Whatever it took to get the job done. Her marriage and her husband were too important to her to lose, just because she had a runaway critical mouth and a sharp tongue. But she felt she had wasted her time in coming, nevertheless.

She could feel herself becoming more and more aware of her surroundings again, and as she did so she realised that nothing had happened. She could remember everything he had said to her. He had failed, and, so had she.

“One ... two ... three!” she heard the man say. And then she heard him snap his fingers, seemingly right beside her left ear. Boy, was that loud, she thought, as her mental faculties cleared very quickly.

Judy opened her eyes to see the therapist smiling at her warmly. She blinked several times, feeling the immediate urge to tell him that he had not been successful and had wasted both their time for nothing.

“How do you feel?” he asked her as she watched him settle back in his leather chair, looking pleased with himself.

Judy scanned herself mentally from head to toe.. She felt fine, she had to admit when she’d finished. In fact, she felt very good, as if she had just woken up from a long sleep, but without the usual grogginess she always felt when she had, which was strange, to say the least, because she knew she had not gone to sleep, in any way whatsoever.

“Very good, actually.” she answered, her brow knitting, and annoyed that she had even allowed herself to even consider coming there in the first Serves her right, she concluded the thought pattern. You get what you pay for, not that this therapist was cheap, by any means.

“I believe I have installed a trigger that will solve your problem.” he told her with a slight grin. “You did agree beforehand that you were prepared to do whatever it took to save your marriage. Isn’t that true?”

“Yes.” Judy answered. And she had. She only hoped it worked. She had never really believed in all this psyche stuff. She had a very strong and dominant mind, not ever being capable of being told what to do about anything, from anyone, which was her problem, and the reason she was in the mess she found herself in at the moment.

“How will I know if what you did worked?” she asked the therapist in his mid-forties somewhere, not believing for a single second that it had. All that had happened was that he had relaxed her. And that didn’t feel too bad, she concluded as well. The therapist was silent for a moment before he answered. Judy wondered what he was thinking about at that precise moment.

“Well, we could test it before you left, if you like. That way we’d know it if it did for sure, I guess. Would you like to test it now?”

James Brady knew her subconscious mind was still listening fully to him as he applied waking hypnosis to her.

“Sure.” Judy said. “Why not? If it doesn’t work, at least I’ll have tried. Won’t I?” Judy just wanted to get it over with and go home. She had wasted enough of her preciously valuable time already with this rubbish.

“I’m confident.” the therapist told her, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk and just look at her warmly. “Why don’t we start with me saying something I’m sure you would object to? That should really put the trigger to the test.”

Judy thought no further than the surface intent of the question, expecting nothing in particular to happen except that he would be the one with egg on his face, and not her. Serves the fool right, she thought. His funeral, not mine.

“Okay.” she replied.

“Good.” he said with a smile. “I know just the thing. You can stand up and take off every piece of clothing you’re wearing, and allow me to look upon your naked loveliness.”

To say Judy was shocked at what the smiling therapist had just said would have been the understatement of the century. She was offended in every way possible. Her mind spun crazily with the string of abuse she intended to let him have for his complete lack of professionalism and consideration of her as a person.

But for some reason she couldn’t seem to find the words. She was just too angry. And even while she continued to try she realised she was getting up out of her chair and beginning to unbutton her blouse.

James Brady smiled up at the woman with the totally dumbfounded and aggressive look on her face and in her blazing, murderous eyes. Her lips were drawn back over her teeth in a silent snarl of indignance, even as her hands worked to do what he had told them to do, button by small, pretty, silver button.

Her mouth opened and closed several times, but nothing by way of the slightest sound passed through those pretty, full lips, except low, unintelligible grunts of frustration. His smile widened as her hands worked diligently onward in their directed task.

Judy tried and tried to stop her hands from doing what they were doing without her conscious permission, but they would not respond, as if they belonged to someone else and not her.

She started to turn to run out of his office, the tears already streaming down her cheeks.

“You stay right where you are and finish undressing quickly. I haven’t got all afternoon.” she heard him say. Without having any control over her body Judy found herself turning back to face him, slipping her blouse from her shoulders as she did so. Then she reached behind herself and released the clasp of her bra, letting it drop to the floor where she stood.

Judy then became aware of her hands unzipping her skirt. Her mind raced and her skin burned all over her body. Oh, no! she thought. Please! But her hands would not obey her conscious commands. They slid the skirt down over her hips and then thumbed down her underwear until it, too, lay as the last article of clothing on her body to drop to the floor silently with the rest.

Judy stood there, as naked as the day she’d been born, only a lot bigger, and a lot more appealing to the eyes of a man, any man. But no man, other than her husband had ever seen her without clothes on. She had been a virgin when she had met him and wanted no other guy.

She tried and tried to speak, but to no avail. It was as if there was some kind of block in her head where she just couldn’t find any words. It was if she had never even learned to speak at all.

Judy then suddenly became acutely aware of the fullness of her breasts as she sobbed silently in anger where she stood, her breasts jiggling as her shoulders racked with frustration.

The coolness of the air-conditioned air wafted around her thighs and buttocks and rustled through her lush, thick, black pubic hair, only serving to increase her awareness of what he had made her to in front of him, a perfect stranger.

This was outrageous, she fumed internally, but she couldn’t seem to be able to form the words in thought to think even that.

The tears streamed from her eyes, but they were not tears of anguish, they were tears of frustration and sheer rage at what he had made her do. Judy vowed to see him in jail because of this.

“I think I’ve proved that the trigger works.” James said to the obviously distressed and defeated woman who would shoot him on the spot if she had a gun in her hands at that precise moment in time. “Don’t you? You may get dressed now.”

Enraged and mentally inflamed more than any Spanish bull had ever been, Judy found her arms and hands moving again of their own accord. Within minutes she was fully dressed again and sitting back down in the chair at his suggestion. She was still crying silently, but the same anger was no longer there where she wanted to murder him on the spot.

“Before I allow you to speak again.” James continued using waking hypnosis on her in her confused vulnerability. “I want you to know that there could not have been a better test of the trigger to save your marriage. I’m sure when you think seriously about the nature of the test that just happened in front of both you and me, your therapist, you will agree. You may speak now, Judy, if you wish.”

Judy felt as if a thick blanket of invisible fog lifted instantly from her mind. Her thoughts cleared and the words formed in her mouth, telling him of her anger and frustration, indignance and horror at what he had made her do in front of a perfect stranger, but again, to Judy’s increasing anger, she just couldn’t say them.

She knew them and could think them, but simply could not say them. The tears of her frustration again flowed freely down her cheeks.

“And it’s still working.” she heard the therapist confidently say with a smile on his face. “Don’t you think?”

Judy felt herself nod, without conscious awareness that she had done so, which made her even angrier. What had he done to her? What the fuck had he done to her?

“Whatever it took.” James Brady said to her. “That’s what you said you would agree to, and because you did it to save your marriage, which is very important to you, your subconscious mind accepted the suggestion completely, and is over-riding your every wish and thought to do anything other than to accept whatever I, or your husband says, in complete silence. So, you could not possibly bother your husband ever again with your tongue-lashings, because your tongue, along with the rest of your mind and body, will simply not cooperate with you, consciously. All of you wants to save your marriage. And, that is what you wanted. Isn’t that true?”

Judy listened through her tears and realised the therapist was right. He had only done what she had asked him to, even if it had been in such a radical and unexpected manner. She tried to speak again, only this time with no emotion behind her words.

“Is ... this ... how I’m .. going to be .. for the ... rest of my life?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yes.” James answered, knowing he had already arrived in the winner’s circle, but had yet to collect his prize. “It will teach you to think of the ramifications of whatever you are thinking of saying, before you say it, and to consider whether you really want to say it, now that you know that you couldn’t anyway. So, what would be the point of getting angry anymore over anything that you simply can’t express your displeasure about anyway?” and with that James laughed aloud.

As much as she hated to admit it, he was right, Judy thought to herself. He was right. She just wished he had chosen a less humiliating way of solving her problem, that’s all.

“Now,” James continued with her behaviour modification therapy. “would you like to come around here, kneel down and take me in your mouth until I climax, swallowing every last drop, before you leave, just as a nice, parting gesture?”

Judy’s face flushed instantly, both from extreme embarrassment in the ultra-extreme, as well as a wild, exploding and violent rage at being spoken to that way by anyone, let alone her therapist.

She stomped up out of her chair with all the physical strength she had, and with a vengeance. She started to head for the door, only to find herself running the few steps around his desk and stopping in front of him. Then to her utter horror she began to sink slowly down to her knees beside his chair. He still faced his desk and had not swivelled around to face her.

Judy’s sheer, unadulterated rage and humiliation knew no limits, but had no outlet through which to express themselves as she became aware visually of her hands reaching for his right knee to swivel him around. He turned as she pulled on his knee and was horrified to see herself place her hands on each knee and push them slowly apart.

Her tears of anguish and humiliating horror flowed like waterfalls from the two dams of her red, swollen eyes bursting like Niagra falls when her hands reached forward to his crotch, her fingers spreading to clasp the zipper and pull it downward.

Judy was choking on her own violent rage at not being able to express her blazing, flaming hatred for him and what he was making her do against her free will.

“You, may go back and sit down, now.” she suddenly heard him say. Then, to her instant relief she found herself getting to her feet and walking back around the desk to sit down again.

“Before you sit down.” she heard him say next, as she reach for the chair. “I think it would be nice if you were to turn around and face the office door, then you may bend over and hitch up your skirt high above your hips, pull down your underwear to your knees. And when you’ve done that, you can bend over and spread your legs, giving me an unrestricted view of your secret places, and all that they offer.”

Judy’s tears erupted and burst free again of their retaining walls again as she found herself lifting her skirt high above her hips and again thumbing her underwear down to her knees. Her tears of extreme humiliation splashed onto the carpet as she bent way forward, touched the ankles of each foot, then adopted a wide-legged stance so he could see all she had to offer of her secret places and more.

This was too much. She began to sob, her shoulders wracking like those of a beaten woman.

“Would you like me to suggest to you,” James continued with no mercy and no quarter given. “that you masturbate yourself in that position in front of me, while I watch your buttocks flex and quiver from behind you as you reach your peak.?”

Judy heard him say it to her as she bent even more further forward. Then, to her horror, Judy watched her own two hands began to slowly move toward the junction of her thighs. It was too much for such a strong, disciplined mind like hers to be expected to take.

Judy then collapsed, mentally. IT left her in a rush that she could hear inside her head. And after a few seconds, she had no more anger left to fight him with as her hands and gentle fingers settled warmly over the apex to her jade gates, her fingers already finding the jewel of her Nile.

“You may dress yourself and sit down again, and this time, I hope you’ve realised that I really have triggered away your problem. You no longer have one in that area of which you came to see me about. Not at all, in any way.” she heard him say to her. And then he added, “Please think before you speak in the future. You will save yourself a lot of frustration. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Judy watched, instantly relieved as her hands left the warmth of her furry, soft centre to drag her underwear slowly back up and over her hips. She felt whipped, mentally, and in every other way she could now think of.

Then she pulled down her skirt, remaining bent forward for a few seconds before straightening slowly upward to turn and sit down in the chair. The simple act of standing up straight seemed to take the last of her remaining energy. Judy felt completely and utterly drained of all emotion.

She sniffed loudly as her conscious mind recalled the words he had just spoken to her as she sat back down in the chair and faced her tormentor, as she now thought of him.

He was no longer her therapist in her conscious mind. He had beaten her into mental submission in the manner she had unknowingly requested him to do. And he had done it very well. She no more emotion left with which to fight against anything else he might have to say to her.

“Are we in agreement?” she heard him say with a warm tone to his voice. “Or do you require further demonstrations of your speechlessness at things done in your presence that you do not want or find not to your liking?”

Judy nodded consciously. She believed him completely. There was no point. No matter what he suggested to her she would do, irrespective of whether she wanted to, agreed with it, or otherwise. So what was the point of getting angry or upset? She asked herself silently.

There was no point, she answered herself instantly. There was simply no point at all. He would suggest, and she would do. And that would be that, so why fight it? Why try to stop the inevitable?

Judy nodded again in final admission and acceptance of that which had come to pass at her own request. Judy took a deep breath and sighed loudly. She may as well be a slave. She thought, as she sniffed her nasal passages clear for the last time.

“I..might .. as well.. be a..a..slave.” she said hesitantly, voicing her own thoughts.

“That’s a wise thought.” she heard him respond to her statement. “Thinking that way would be a lot less upsetting. Don’t you agree?”

Judy thought about that for a moment or two before answering. That’s what she’d been reduced to, she decided—a slave. No will of her own in anything she didn’t want to agree with or be involved in. Sounds like something a slave would think, she concluded tiredly to herself as she nodded.

At least she would be upset all the time. Maybe she’d even get a good night’s sleep, or a whole night passing without getting into an argument. Who knows?

She nodded in slow, tired, and defeated agreement. A slave, Judy reflected on his words that she had thought of herself. Me, a slave. Who would have ever thought?

And the thought continued to run around and around in her conscious mind as she tiredly raised her even more tired, red-rimmed eyes to look at the man who had made her into one, and, with her own permission to do so, she thought ironically as she blinked away the last teardrop that had somehow forgotten to fall onto the carpet.

Then Judy nodded again, agreeing with her own summation of her present situation more than her therapist’s.

“That’s fine.” James said to her as she brought up a tissue from her purse and dabbed at her red, swollen and puffy eyes. “You’ve done very well in saving your marriage, and that, should make you, very happy from this moment onward ,and after I snap my fingers.”

“Close your tired eyes now, and the next time you open them, you will consciously forget, everything that has occurred here today. You will not remember, and you will not want to remember one single embarrassing, humiliating moment of anything that has happened here to you today.”

“And I’m sure you will want to agree with that. All you will be able to remember is that your problem has now been solved, and that from now on, you are a willing slave to your husband and myself, in everything we may say or wish to do with you, knowing in your subconscious mind what the result will be if you resist emotionally in any way.”

Judy saw him raise his hand and the snapping of his fingers, but then, strangely, she couldn’t recall him raising his hands to do that. He was smiling warmly at her. She returned h is smile with one equally as warm, wondering why she felt so tired. In fact, she felt drained of all her energy.

“You’re all fixed!” James said to her with a smile. “Better than a bought one!” and with that he laughed aloud.

Judy laughed with him, feeling happy that her problem had been fixed. She sighed. Her marriage was safe from her quick tongue now. She couldn’t recall how he had done it exactly, but she didn’t really care. It was fixed. That was the main thing. Now all she really wanted to get home to her loving husband’s arms.

God, she felt so tired. Wild horses wouldn’t stop her from leaving his office to race home to the man she loved and tell him the good news. He would be so happy. And then they would make soft, sweet love to celebrate, all night long.

“Thank you, Doctor.” Judy said as she stood up and smoothed down her skirt out of habit. “I’ll let you know how things turn out.”

Her therapist smiled warmly at her as she turned and began to slowly walk across the carpet toward the door, with him walking alongside of her. When they reached the door, to her utter disbelief and amazement he reached down and locked it instead of opening it for her.

She turned her face quickly to stare at him in silent, angry question of his strange and totally unacceptable behaviour.

“I already know how it will turn out.” James said to her with a smile and a gleam in both eyes. “You, may go back to my desk and get completely undressed. When you’ve done that, you will get up on it on all fours and widen your buttocks and thighs to my very intimate exploration and usage of every secret place your body and mind can show to me.”

Judy held his gaze in her own, then, for reasons she couldn’t have explained to herself if she had tried, which she did not, she dropped her gaze to the carpeted floor. Then she turned slowly around and started to walk back toward his desk, knowing exactly what she intended to do when she got there, which was everything he had just suggested she do.

For a brief second she wondered why she was going to do what she definitely intended to do, but then she lost the thought, and had another one instead.

What’s the point? She thought as she placed her purse back down to one side of his desk and began to undress. Besides, who knows? I might even like it. And as each piece of her clothing fell away under the touch of her own hands Judy continued her inner dialogue with herself.

Where was it written? she asked herself, as she stepped out of her last piece of intimate clothing she was wearing and climbed up on to the soft, leather-covered top of his desk and spread her hands and knees—that a slave couldn’t enjoy what she was asked to do?

And with that thought fresh in her mind, Judy widened her hands and knees to the very edge of each side of the large desk and braced herself, waiting for what she knew, and now found she wanted to happen next.

Then she smiled. The air-conditioned, cool air felt nice as it wafted deliciously upward between her buttocks and all of her now-very-wide-open secret places.

Yes, she concluded, as she watched her therapist undress, and thinking nothing unusual at all about it. Who said a slave couldn’t enjoy herself in the ranks?

James Brady just smiled at the living, breathing statue of naked loveliness and god- hood called woman who had chosen to mount herself atop of his desk.

And god invented woman, he thought fondly to himself—to serve mankind.

Another Happy Ending.