The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

She came to me at the exact time—she was always punctual and could hardly be otherwise. Since my phone call to her earlier that day she would have been thinking only of our meeting. I, too, had had time to prepare for her arrival and by the time I heard her soft knock on the door the lighting had been dimmed and the furniture arranged to my liking.

And what an entrance she made! She always seemed beautiful to me, but today something in her manner, or perhaps her dress, knocked me sideways. As I opened the door for her gaze remained fixed ahead, of course, her heavy eyelids drooping seductively, her elegant, gloved arms hanging by her side. She made no movement, save for the barely perceptible rise and fall of her breasts. I stood and gazed at her for what seemed like hours....time was not an issue with her at the moment and I knew she would remain motionless until I told her to come in. She was dressed in an elegant white gown, low cut, with a round, sparking pendant hanging tantalisingly above her delicious cleavage. A wisp of her long, jet-black had fallen over her face, brushing against her painted lips. Were it not for those brazen, inviting lips and heavy eye makeup she would have looked almost virginal; like a little lost girl, lips slightly parted, the soft, gentle sound of her breathing filling the hallway to the time of her rising and falling breasts. Our relationship may have been one sided—during her “normal” life she had no memory of me, and during our sessions she knew me only as her Master—but I can honestly say that, at times, I loved her.

We had met at a party. She was there alone, having only recently moved to the area, seemed grateful for the attention I was paying to her. I had planned to capture her from the moment I set eyes on her, and, as I guessed, she was extremely susceptible to hypnosis. Her unease at being alone and her gratitude to me for “taking her in hand” allowed her to move, under my guidance, from trust to light trance. By the time we left together, she was accepting and responding to subtle post-hypnotic suggestion. Her accompanying me back to my flat was largely due to such suggestion, and, after we arrived, I took the opportunity to deepen her trance. I had not yet made the connection in her mind between hypnosis and sexual arousal—that would come later—and I concentrated mainly on increasing her dependence on me as a source of relaxation.

After that, we met many times. Each time, her trance would be deepened, and each time she would leave with less conscious memory of me and more post-hypnotic responses. Gradually, I stripped her of her will, and moulded her into an object of fantasy. I instructed her in my desires and taught her to anticipate my wishes. Sometimes she would arrive dressed in tight, shiny latex and high boots, completely unaware of her hypnotic compulsion, convinced that she was a cheap whore. Other times it would please me to have her arrive dressed in her everyday clothes, imagining she was visiting a friend. I’d enjoy watching her succumbing to a strange, overpowering compulsion to masturbate and then begging forgiveness for her outrageous behaviour. With a word, I’d plunge her into a deep trance—her eyes would close and her arms drop to her side—and I’d play with planting compulsions and post-hypnotic triggers.

Today she had arrived in a state of deep hypnosis and receptivity. It excited me so much to see her so vulnerable, and as I led her into my living room I enjoyed relaxing her still further. “Listen to my voice....relax....sleep deeply.....deeply”. I stood facing her, gently stroking her cheek, resisting a strong urge to take her there and then. “Now...", I asked,"....why are you here?”

Instantly her eyes fully opened and focussed on my face. “Please, Master, hypnotize me!” she begged. At that moment, she was absolutely unaware that she was already profoundly hypnotized. I enjoyed seeing her beg with all her heart to become the object of my fantasy—the fact that it was all programming was unimportant. “Please, Master, please!", she cried, tears in her eyes. “Hypnotize me. Enslave me. Make me your hypnotized toy. Hypnotize me! Bring me under your hypnotic control”. Seeing her beautiful, sensuous mouth form these magical words excited me enough to burst. She was on her knees now, gazing up at me. “Mezmerize me! Please Master, put me into a deep, hypnotic trance. I want it so badly! Control me! Turn me into your slave, your robot!". It almost hurt me to see her pleading with such sincerity, as though her life depended on it. She had been programmed to equate trance with sexual fulfilment, and was, at present, burning with desire. As I told her to stand and led her over to the couch, her desperation gave way to gratitude. She knew the routine. As she lay back and relaxed, she cried tears of joy. “Thank you, Master. Oh, thank you!". Her eyes closed again, her face still flushed. She reminded me of a little child, exhausted after a violent tantrum. She drank in my words and caresses as I began to induce trance, the tension flowing out of her beautiful face. Gently, I placed one hand on each side of her forehead and began to massage her temples in slow circles. As I repeated the mantra “Sleep, relax, sleep deeply...” I looked down at her child-like, tranquil face. A few moments ago she had been in agony, craving the trance to which she had become completely addicted. Now she was quiet, at peace, receptive. I loved the power I had over her, the complete control over every aspect of her physical and emotional state. I told her to open her eyes slightly, and gaze deeply into mine. The submissive, entranced look in her eyes was so overwhelming I almost came—looking down into her eyes was like looking into deep, dark pools of water. I bent down and kissed her, running my fingers over her white-gloved arms, imagining her slender fingers relaxing under the silky fabric. “You are my hypnotised toy”, I whispered in her ear and heard her dreamy, far-away assent. “I control you completely. You are a robot, you obey my commands. Each word I speak, each movement I make, plunges you deeper and deeper into a trance, further and further under hypnosis. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master”, came the sleepy, little-girl reply. “Now”, I said, “sit up”. Promptly, she dropped her legs over the side of the couch and sat upright, eyes still half closed. On my command, mechanically, she stood. “I am your robot. Command me. Control me.” I giggled; it amused me when she spoke under deep hypnosis without a prompt. “That’s right,” I told her, “you are a robot. You have no will of your own. I command you to remove your gloves, slowly.”

Slowly, as I had commanded, she raised one hand and, with the other, pulled at the fingertips of the glove. It began to slide silkily off her smooth, white arm. As it slid away to expose her hand, with its crimson painted fingernails, she let it drop to the floor. She held the other arm out and repeated the process. When she had finished, her hands dropped to her side. Throughout this, her gaze had remained fixed ahead. She stood, awaiting her next command. I watched her for a moment, feeling overwhelmed by her beauty. I walked around her, allowing myself to run my hands down her bare arms, stopping to kiss the back of her neck where the hair gave way to warm, soft skin. I knew she was responding to my caresses, not only as hypnotic triggers but on a deep sexual level, by a slight tremor of her fingertips and the smallest gasp of breath. “You may respond, robot, but you may not move” I whispered in her ear. She let out a little moan as I ran my fingers across the palm of her hand and her eyelids fluttered. I stood back from her, watching her swaying involuntarily and breathing deeply, little moans of pleasure escaping from her barely-parted lips. I had taught her to cherish her submission, and I knew that beneath her elegant gown she was beginning to flow. When her excitement had subsided a little I told her to kneel, which she did, mechanically and precisely—robotically. I gently unzipped her gown, allowing it to fall from her shoulders, exposing her smooth breasts and erect nipples. Still she stared blankly ahead, completely entranced, motionless. “Hold your pendant in the air”, I told her. She removed the large gold disc from around her neck and held it, suspended, in front of her eyes, swinging gently to and fro on its long chain. “Focus your eyes on it”. I watched as she followed it’s swinging motion without moving her head.

“With each swing of the pendulum you will become more deeply entranced. You will also become intensely aroused, but you can only move your hand to your breast. You may not touch your cunt. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master” she gasped; she was already feeling the sexual energy building inside her. She began to circle one of her nipples slowly with her fingers while the other hand held the pendulum in front of her eyes. I stood behind her, my hands on her temples, massaging them as though softening and manipulating her mind with my finger tips. At first her arousal was signalled only by her deep, heavy breathing, but as she began to caress her breast more firmly she began to whimper. As her excitement grew she began to knead her breasts with the full length of her forearm—I watched as her fist clenched and unclenched and her shoulders began to tremble. Her other arm shook too, making the pendant swing further which, in turn, deepened her arousal. Caught in an endless circle of entrancement and sexual awakening she began to writhe rhythmically, still kneeling, trying in vain to stimulate her clitoris by rubbing her thighs together. Deeper and deeper she went, further and further under hypnosis, the frustration and ecstasy spurring her on to more and more violent movements. The tears began to well in her eyes as she was overcome by a violent desire for orgasm. I stood back from her, watching my hypnotized princess, moving as though posessed by a demon, eyes ablaze, yet still transfixed by the swinging pendulum, unable to move either hand to her flowing cunt. She was glorious, consumed by a burning energy, and I watched her for as long as I contain my desire to satisfy her. I toyed with her, preventing her from reaching orgasm by hypnotic commands, yet increasing her arousal. “You may not reach orgasm until I touch you”, I shouted above her cries. “You will continue to gaze at the pendulum. You are falling deeper and deeper under hypnosis. You are completely hypnotized, completely consumed by arousal. Fall deeper....keep falling....yet you may not reach orgasm yet.....keep falling....”

Eventually, when the tears were rolling down her face, I took hold of her and plunged my hand into her wide-open, liquid cunt. Responding to the hypnotic trigger, she burst with orgasm. The pendulum fell to the floor as she convulsed in my arms. I continued to thrust my hand into her, rubbing the erect clit between my fingers. She was out of her mind with ecstasy, her cries filling the room. The depth of her trance ensured that she was engulfed in her feelings. She was no longer conscious of the reality of her body or position, no longer conscious of me, even.

After I had allowed her to calm down, she lay in my arms, gazing up at me. After a while, I told her we were lovers, and we spent some time kissing and cuddling. I enjoyed these times, watching her, happy as a child at Christmas. She nestled in my arms and I stroked her like a kitten. Of course, before long, I began to induce trance again, enjoying the process. Soon she was completely under again. With her still lying in my arms I began to bind her wrists.....