The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Then

“Imagine yourself standing in a doorway,” Nia whispered in Maggie’s ear. “The room behind you represents the present, and in front of you there is a long corridor that stretches off to the left. There are many doors along its walls. Each of these doors leads to the memories of a past life.

“You are stepping out of the room that represents your present life, and walking down the corridor, slowly. You can see that each past-life-door has names inscribed upon it. These names are people who were important to you in that life. Your mind has the ability to translate past names into present names, so when you see names of people from your past lives, your mind will automatically translate their old name into their present name, if they are in your life today.

“Walk down that corridor. Look at all the names on the doors. Do you see one that has my name written on it?”

Maggie saw the corridor Nia was describing, and looked around. Her eyes rested on one door.

“Yes,” the English girl said softly.

“You are walking to the door, and opening it,” Nia said, her Irish voice as gentle as a lullaby. “Inside you see a theatre, a private screening room, with two chairs. I am sitting in one, and the other is empty. You walk into the room and sit down in the empty chair. This chair is extremely comfortable. We clasp hands.”

Nia’s hand was smooth and gentle.

“Now a movie is starting. This movie tells you about the events of this past life. You can see the movie clearly, see the places and people, but you are aware that this is not real. It’s only a movie made from memories long past. It has subtitles for all of the dates and places.

“Watch the movie. The scene we’re seeing now is a particularly significant scene from this past life, where you and I are together. There is a subtitle on the screen. It says the place and the year. Read it out loud to me.”

“France, le 21 Juillet, douze cent neuf,” Maggie read.

“In English, please.”

“July 21, 1209.”

“Tell me where this is.”

“Beziers,” Maggie said, looking up at the castle. It was a grey stone structure, with battlements, towers, and shingled roofs.

“What are you doing at this town?”

“Besieging it,” Maggie said sadly. “Toulouse has been ordered to destroy the Cathars. This is a terrible mistake.”

“What is your role?”

Maggie saw her husband debating angrily with his liege lord.

“My husband is a knight. He and I think this fight is unnecessary. He is trying to persuade Toulouse to end the siege, but Toulouse is frightened. He has had his excommunication lifted and he is afraid of it happening again. He will not resist the pope’s orders.”

“Do you see me?”

“Not now.”

“The movie is fast-forwarding. It stops when you see me.”

“There you are... you look beautiful, Nia.”

Maggie felt the Irish hypnotist squeeze her hand. “Thank you. What’s going on now?”

“It’s terrible,” Maggie said, staring up at the slaughter on the movie screen. “There are only a few Cathars in this town, but the knights have been ordered to slaughter everyone they see. Already hundreds of Catholics have been put to the sword. Arnaud-Amaury has commanded the army to kill everyone, Cathar and Catholic alike.

“My husband has slipped away. He and I are on the outskirts of the city, trying to help people flee. There are so many innocent Catholics dying. We are helping Cathars too. God would never want this.”

“Do you see me?”

“Yes. You are being tied to a stake, and they’re piling wood around it. Your hair is loose in the wind. I am so afraid for you. You haven’t been offered the chance to recant. Why do they assume the worst? Oh no, someone has identified you as a midwife. They think that means you’re a witch. Oh my God.”

“What?”

“They’re lighting the fire. I tell my husband he has to help you, that I’ve known you all my life. He’s riding towards you, drawing his sword. The horse is afraid to approach the fire, but he urges him on. He’s slicing through your bonds, pulling you onto the horse in front of him. You’re riding for your lives.

“They’re shouting after him, naming him traitor. I steal a horse and we leave the town together.”

“What am I saying?”

“You’re crying. This has been the worst day of your life. Your husband was killed. You didn’t know the knight who rescued you was my husband until you saw me. You tell me how frightened you are, how glad you are to see me.”

“What do you say?”

“I’ve been looking for you all day. I was worried sick. My heart was pounding in fear for you. My husband says we should make for Carcassonne.”

“How do we know each other?”

“We grew up together in Beziers,” Maggie explained. “We used to play together, but when we got older our parents forbid us to meet, for yours were Cathars and mine Catholic. We used to meet in secret. I know your people aren’t a threat.”

“The movie is fast-forwarding. What else happens in this life?”

“My husband offers his services to Guilhem de Minerve. He is Catholic but believes that we should leave the Cathars in peace. He tells the lord that you are his sister.

“The town of Minerve is besieged. It falls on July 22, 1210. My husband is killed, and you are there for me, drying my tears.

“The Cathars are told that if they convert to Catholicism they will be spared. I tell the prisoners to pretend they have converted. Some do, but you don’t wish to lie. You think you’ll go to hell if you deny your faith. Many agree with you.

“Arnaud-Amaury begins to burn Cathars at the stake. I tell them you converted to save your life. You are furious with me.”

“Do I go along with it?”

“Yes, and we flee to Burgundy. You are angry because you had to lie.”

“Do I forgive you?” Nia asked.

Maggie nodded. “Yes.”

“The movie fast-forwards to the time we put it behind us. Tell me what you see.”

“We tell everyone that we are sisters-in-law, so no one is surprised when we share a bed. You help a mother through a hard childbirth, and I assist you. The mother and the child are close to death, but they live. We hold each other that night and promise never to let anything come between us again. You touch me in so many new ways. I never knew my body could do that.”

Nia was giggling. “Does the movie get pornographic?”

“Oh yes,” Maggie related. “Your hands are on my hips, on my breasts, between my legs. You make it feel right. You kiss my ears and I kiss your lips. Your hands make me hot and wet and bothered, and these spasms come and I’m afraid but they’re wonderful. You put my hands on your body, and we talk and talk and figure out how to do it for you too. We’re never apart again.”

“We’re now leaving the screening room,” Nia said. Maggie could hear the smile in her voice. “We’re walking down the corridor, holding hands. We’re now entering the room that represents the present. You are returning to the present, back to today, back to this hour, this moment. On the count of three, I will snap my fingers and you will open your eyes. You will remember everything you saw, but you will remember it as a movie, not as something that really happened to us. You remember it only as a movie. One, two, three, wake up.”

Maggie opened her eyes to see Nia sitting next to her, soft brown eyes intense with affection.

The English woman wasn’t sure if she were in a dream or a memory. Her clothes were coming off; she wasn’t sure if it was her hands or Nia’s. She drew the Irish woman’s shirt from her, and they tugged their undergarments away. Nia was atop her, upside-down, her lips between her legs as Maggie sought her lover’s vulva with her kisses.

Maggie didn’t know if this were a trance or real. Surely she had to be imagining this, making love to another woman, one whose kisses were more real than reality, one who wanted her touch, one who made her feel like she was flying.

She lay on her back, breathing hard, her skin alive with gooseflesh. Nia snuggled up beside her, and Maggie curled her body around her lover’s.

After a few minutes of nuzzling, Nia rolled over, and Maggie’s eyes widened as she took in the magnificent tattoo on the younger woman’s back.

Nia stopped as Maggie’s fingertips traced the lines on her back. Centered between the Irish woman’s shoulder blades was a circle. Serpents profiled on both sides flanked it. Beyond these were a pair of eagle’s wings that extended all the way to Nia’s arms. The lines were done in black, with no other colors. Each feather was so detailed that Maggie could picture the wings themselves moving as her fingers traced their designs.

“It’s the winged sun,” Nia said. “To the ancient Egyptians it represented the eternal soul.”

“It’s beautiful,” Maggie breathed.

Now

“We were together in a past life?” Maggie asked, and took Nia’s hands in hers.

“I hope so,” Nia said. “Past lives are difficult. We can never be sure if those things happened, or we just imagined them.” She tilted her head to one side, her hair tumbling over her cheek. “What do you think?”

“It looked real to me,” Maggie said.

“That’s what’s important,” Nia said seriously, then giggled. “That’s the hypnotist talking. On a personal level, even if your subconscious made it up, it shows you think we’re meant to be together.”

Nia picked up her ankh-pendant, and Maggie’s eyes instantly locked onto it as the slender hypnotist held it up. Nia moved it around in circles, and Maggie’s eyes followed it. “You’re so sexy,” the Irish girl grinned.

“Why’s… that?” Maggie couldn’t remember how to look away. Having Nia hypnotise her felt so natural. How had this happened? Earlier tonight she’d never been under, and now she was as deep as anyone she’d ever seen.

“Because you’re under my spell,” Nia said in her delicious Irish lilt. “You make me feel powerful, and confident, and beautiful. Even when I’d do little shows with my friends I never had anyone obey me instinctively the way you do. You don’t act like you’ve been hypnotised by a friend. You act like you’ve been hypnotised by the love of your life.”

“Yes,” Maggie agreed.

It took Nia a moment to continue. “Tell me what happened next.”

Then

They spent the next few evenings at Maggie’s place, and she cooked Nia supper. After a week or two, Maggie became as comfortable sleeping at Nia’s flat as she was at her own. The Irish girl practiced different inductions on her, and Maggie—being hypnotised nearly every night—gained more practice in going under than ever before. Nia gave Maggie post-hypnotic suggestions straight from her daydreams, and acted out fantasy after fantasy with her.

One Friday, after they’d been together about two weeks, Maggie was having an awful day at work and couldn’t stop thinking about her lover. Her day was so busy and so stressful, and all she wanted was for Nia to put her in a trance, relax her completely, then spend hours making love with the Irish girl controlling her body. She wanted to ring Nia during her lunch break, but she didn’t have the time. Work piled up all day, and by the time she got home all she wanted to do was sleep. She didn’t think she had the energy to make supper.

The telephone rang a few minutes after she hung up her coat. Yawning, she answered it.

A thought struck her as she rang off. She had to see Nia. She was the most important person in her life. Being with her made her feel so alive and so wanted. She could barely contain her excitement at the thought. It didn’t matter how knackered she was. She had to see her! She grabbed her coat and hurried to her car.

Something struck Maggie as she turned out of the parking lot. I hope she’s home! Nia wouldn’t mind if she just dropped by, would she?

The English woman needn’t have worried. Nia opened the door as soon as Maggie knocked, almost as if she’d been waiting for her.

Maggie grinned as the shorter woman threw her arms around her, and their lips met.

“You look great,” Maggie said. Nia was wearing the same crimson nightgown she’d worn the first time Maggie had spent the night. The Irish girl’s brown eyes were shining, and her wavy hair tumbled over her left ear and down her back.

“What are you grinning at?” Maggie asked.

Nia’s only reply was to stare into her eyes.

Maggie smiled back. “What are you—doing—”

She lost her train of thought. Nia’s eyes were soft and so inviting. Her eyes were beguiling, hypnotising, dominating. Maggie was mesmerised... enticed... enthralled. She couldn’t help it. All day she’d wanted to be hypnotised, to spend all night touching each other with her mind locked in blissful obedience to Nia’s voice. Without even thinking about it, Maggie fell to her knees.

“My sweet,” Nia grinned. The Irish girl looked happy enough to dance.

Maggie had never heard anything so sexy. It turned her on so much to hear Nia call her that.

The Irish girl took Maggie’s hand in hers. “Make me supper,” she said, trying hard to keep the giggles in.

“Yes, princess,” Maggie said, and followed Nia as she led her into the kitchen. She could think of nothing more romantic than making supper for Nia.

The two chatted easily in the kitchen for the next several minutes. The Irish girl sat on the counter, and Maggie fried up some fish and chips.

“You’re so much fun to play with,” Nia commented in the middle of the conversation, seemingly at random.

“Um, thanks, I think,” Maggie replied, smiling at her.

“No, you are,” Nia said.

“Mmm-hmm. Well, thanks for letting me come over,” Maggie said with a smile. “I needed to see you. I was so knackered from work, but coming here gave me a second wind. I feel great!”

Maggie set up candles on the kitchen table and served supper. She danced in her chair when Nia declared the meal delicious.

“Oh, by the way,” Nia said.

“Hmm?”

The Irish girl raised her hand in the air and snapped her fingers.

Maggie blinked, and looked up at the young seductress sitting across from her. “What—I—how did I get here? I—oh— you—”

Nia stared at her in surprise as Maggie stood up, walked around the table, pulled her hostess up from her chair, and kissed her.

“My fantasy,” Maggie murmured as Nia giggled under her kisses. “You hypnotised me without me knowing.”

“Yes,” Nia giggled.

“You made me come over and make supper for you.”

“Yes.”

“I want you,” Maggie said.

Nia slipped her hand around Maggie’s and led her to the bedroom.