The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The address that Intimate Adventures had given Helen was in Bethesda, so we had our choice of about seven thousand restaurants within a few blocks of their office. We settled on a German place we knew and had a nice filling lunch—maybe a little too filling, we were getting a bit sleepy toward the end of the meal. I wanted to order coffee but we were told no caffeine before the meeting, so we got up and walked around a little to wake ourselves up.

At five minutes to one we entered the office of Intimate Adventures, which was tucked discreetly in the corner of a Wisconsin Avenue office building. A strikingly pretty young blonde greeted us, took the invitation and gave us each a clipboard with a multi-page form to complete.

Looking over the form I thought for a second we had wandered into a medical office by mistake; besides the usual name and address stuff the form contained questions about height, weight, allergies, medications, chronic injuries and illnesses, and immediate family medical histories. Then it moved into lifestyle questions: hobbies, work schedules, food preferences, friends and neighbors, TV habits, things like that. The last section had the look of one of those personality assessment tests. It took forever to finish, and more than once I started to hand it back uncompleted. Every time, though, I looked at Helen and saw her answering each question; if she wasn’t uncomfortable, I decided I didn’t have to be either.

After a very long twenty minutes we were done with our forms. The receptionist had left us alone, so I was giving mine the once-over while I waited for her to return. I heard voices approaching from inside the suite just as a man and woman came through the door to the inner offices. They were holding hands and talking softly to each other. The electricity flowing between them was almost tangible. They saw Helen and me toiling at our clipboards and smiled at us, then exchanged a knowing look with each other and walked out.

Shortly after that the receptionist reappeared. We handed our forms back to her and she accepted them with a dazzling smile and told us to wait “Just a few more minutes.”

She didn’t lie. Maybe three minutes later, a woman emerged from the back depths of the suite and smiled at us both. She was tall and broad shouldered, white, with dark brown hair to just below the ears framing her face. I’d guess her age at around 40, certainly not much more. She wore a navy blue suit with an all-business, slightly masculine cut but it couldn’t completely hide the fact that it enclosed a curvaceous female body. “Bob and Helen?” We looked up and nodded, and that’s when I first noticed her eyes. Big, clear, sky blue eyes, the kind of eyes that command immediate attention. “My name is Madeline. Will you come back to my office please?”

We stood up and shook Madeline’s hand, then followed her into one of the back offices. Hers was very elegantly made, furnished with a natural cherry desk, credenza, and a very nice set of barrister’s bookcases. Opposite the bookcases was a daybed, also in cherry, with an assortment of pillows. Instead of standard office chairs she ushered us into deep, high-backed easy chairs that seemed to conform immediately to our bodies. On the wall behind her desk was a series of official-looking framed documents; I couldn’t make out all the fancy writing at that distance but it looked like Madeline had multiple college degrees and a state-issued license or two. Madeline encouraged us to sit back and relax as she walked around to her side of the desk. There was a folder of papers on the desk, and though I couldn’t see anything specific I assumed our questionnaires were inside it.

“You’ve been married seven years, right?” She had a great voice—deep, resonating, clear.

“That’s right,” Helen said.

“No children?”

“Not yet,” Helen answered and looked at me.

“And you were referred to us by Larry and Peg, yes?”

“Yes. They gave us that gift card for our anniversary.”

“Okay. Before we go any further, I want you both to know that everything we say in this room stays in this room. Nothing will be recorded and a bare minimum will be written down. You have my personal guarantee of complete privacy whether you choose to enter the program or not.”

Helen and I looked at each other, then nodded our understanding.

“Good. Why don’t you tell me about yourselves?”

“Isn’t that what the questionnaire is for?” I asked.

“Partially,” she answered. “But I’d like to hear how you describe yourselves. This way is so much more interesting than reading a standardized form.”

“Okay. I’m 34, I’m a procurement officer at the VA downtown.” Madeline looked as if she was waiting to hear more, but I didn’t quite know where to go so I let it be.

Helen broke the pause for me for by chiming in. “I’m 32, and a manager in the telecom offices of the World Bank. I’m originally from western Pennsylvania. I’m an only child, and my parents are retired and living in Arizona. We don’t have much contact with either of them aside from the occasional phone call or letter. There’s no friction, we’ve just grown apart somewhat.”

Seeing Madeline’s approving smile, I decided to extend my own remarks. “I’m the oldest of four, most of whom still live in or near Pittsburgh. We go up there for a couple of days every summer and catch up, no big deal. I met Helen during college.”

“Which college was that?”

“St. Francis.”

Madeline looked mildly surprised; she opened the folder again and leafed through the papers. “That’s a Catholic college, isn’t it?”

“Yep.”

“But you listed your religion as ‘None’ on the form.” The arch in her eyebrows made the question clear.

“I was raised Catholic,” I explained. “Catholic grade school, Catholic high school. St. Frances was my folks’ choice, not mine. By the time I got out of there I’d had Catholicism in my face for 20-plus years and I was sick of it. I guess I’m technically still a Catholic but I don’t go to church unless somebody I know is getting married or buried.”

“Is there something in particular about the Church that bothered you?” Madeline’s voice stayed even, but her eyes said that she really wanted to know. I was finding her very easy to talk to.

“No one huge thing,” I answered. “There was a growing discomfort with the people I’d come to associate with the Church. They seemed a little out of touch with the real world. And despite being force fed the doctrine for my entire young life, I never really accepted it all. My folks were, and still are, very devout so I went through the motions to please them, but once I was on my own I stopped pretending.”

“I see,” she replied. “Helen, you listed yourself as Catholic. Do you still practice?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “I never had a big problem with the basic teachings of the Church. I still carry most of the Catholic values, as does Bob.” I nodded agreement. “By the time I met Bob I had already become uncomfortable with the Church as an organization. It had become so political, so intent of trying to force some of its doctrines into laws that would then affect everyone whether they believed or not. That just felt wrong to me, so I sort of dropped out.”

“Were your parents angry about that?” Madeline was looking at Helen when she asked, so I stayed quiet.

“At first. But when I explained how I felt, they were very understanding. I think they’re still a little disappointed that I don’t go to church, but they like Bob and they know that we both try our best to be good people.”

“Mine were pretty steamed,” I volunteered. “They stopped talking to me for a few weeks, but their parish pastor convinced them that Helen and I might come around in time if they would show us a good example of Christian love and forgiveness.”

Madeline kept nodding. Behind the blue eyes I could see her digesting the information and filing it away. “Let’s talk about your relationship,” she said to both of us.

Helen and I looked at each other, silently debating who would begin. I volunteered. “We get along fine most of the time. We work near each other, so we carpool every day. That gives is us more time together than a lot of couples have.”

“We share the housework pretty evenly,” Helen added. “Bob and I both cook and clean, but we do eat out a lot because it’s so late when we get home most of the time that neither of us wants to spend an hour fixing dinner. Larry and Peg are our best friends and we do something together with them almost every week.”

“How about the sexual part of your relationship?” Madeline asked without batting an eye.

Helen’s face froze instantly, and the sense of comfort I’d been riding on was suddenly pulled out from under me. “Pretty much normal,” I ventured after a very long pause. “Once a week or so, on average. Nothing kinky.” Madeline looked over to Helen, but no way was Helen going to step into that bear trap.

“Did you have sex over the weekend?” Madeline continued, her voice still smooth and casual. Helen’s face turned beet red and I felt the heat rising in my own cheeks too.

“Last night,” Helen allowed

“That’s good,” Madeline replied. “Did you talk about it afterwards?”

We both sort of shrugged our answer, knowing we had copped out on the conversation. I think we also knew that she wasn’t going to leave it that way.

“Why don’t you tell me about it?” she asked us both.

Helen started to stammer: “Well . I mean . we—” but I interrupted her.

“I think we’d rather not,” I said, in a tone designed to shut down that line of questioning entirely. “There are some things that decent people just don’t talk about in public.” Helen nodded her agreement.

“I’m sorry, I was not trying to offend you.” Madeline made a conciliatory gesture, then changed the subject. “Any trouble in the relationship? Recent arguments, disagreements, anything like that?”

Puzzled, I shook my head. Helen met Madeline’s gaze directly and said, “No. Nothing important, anyway. Where are you going with these questions? Why do you need to know all the things in that questionnaire we filled out?”

“Most of that you can blame directly on the lawyers. You know how ridiculous they can get. With what we do here, we need to cover all sorts of possibilities.”

“And what exactly do you do here?” Helen had shifted forward in her chair, but it wasn’t really made to be perched on that way. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her give up and sit back again as Madeline answered.

“Intimate Adventures is a very unique kind of counseling service. Our clients are all couples who are in strong, committed relationships and who are looking to take their relationship to a deeper, more satisfying level. We help them to do that by arranging safe opportunities for them to have new and exciting romantic experiences.”

My bullshit detector was starting up again. “What kind of new and exciting experiences?”

“Whatever you and Helen would like,” she answered. “If you decide to enter the program, we will spend the afternoon discussing your relationship in detail. We’ll talk about your feelings for each other, your likes and dislikes, your sexual habits and boundaries, your dreams, your fantasies. That information will be used to script several encounters that you will both enjoy and that will help draw you closer together.”

“What makes you think we need drawing together?” I challenged.

Madeline closed the file folder and set it aside. “At this point, Bob, nothing other than the fact that you are here with me. Nobody is suggesting that there is anything wrong with you, with Helen, or with your marriage. Larry and Peg have been through the program, and they clearly believe that we have something to offer to you. Our program works best when the relationship is strong and stable, like yours appears to be, and just needs an extra spark.”

“We’ve been together seven years,” I argued. “Nobody can be like newlyweds all the time. People grow and change; naturally the excitement level drops a bit along the way.”

“You’re absolutely right, Bob. In a successful, long-term relationship it is very normal for a couple to start out very hot, very romantic, and then to cool down over time. At one time or another almost every couple experiences a period of ennui. Maybe you and Helen are having one now, maybe not. If so, then I believe that I can help you to overcome that in a way that will permanently enrich your relationship. If not, I’ll shred your file and arrange a refund.”

The word ‘ennui’ struck a chord in me. Yes, that was a pretty good word for what Helen and I were having. Nothing was exactly going sour between us, but we were definitely in a rut. We’d certainly been going through the motions in bed recently.

While I pondered that Helen raised a question of her own. “What is your role in all of this, Madeline?”

“I’m your facilitator,” she answered. “Together we will talk about your deepest desires, fantasies, hopes and dreams, both romantic and sexual, in explicit detail. Armed with that insight, I will then script and facilitate encounters that will let you explore some of those fantasies in a safe, controlled environment.”

“Why all the secrecy? Why not just advertise yourselves as marriage counselors?”

I could see an extra gleam come to the facilitator’s eyes as she answered. “Marriage counselors are professionals who take troubled relationships and help to repair them. There’s nothing wrong with that; I’ve done quite a lot of it myself. But at Intimate Adventures we take good relationships and work to improve them. We take normal people and talk very frankly, sometimes clinically, about habits and desires and feelings that most people don’t even discuss with their partners. Our clients have to know that all of their dealings with us are absolutely private; therefore we don’t advertise, we don’t sell our client list, and we keep very few records. If you choose to continue with us, you too will appreciate that.”

Helen’s face took on a nervous look as she asked, “What if we’re not comfortable talking clinically about our private thoughts?”

Madeline gave us both a reassuring smile before answering. “I understand completely. Most people are shy about what really turns them on. Sometimes they are afraid they will scare off their partner by seeming too sleazy, sometimes they are just generally insecure. It’s perfectly normal and perfectly okay to be like that.”

Helen wasn’t giving up. “How do you get around it, though?”

“Hypnosis,” she answered casually, sitting back in her chair. “All of our facilitators undergo hypnosis training so that they can put clients completely at ease. I happen to be a licensed clinical hypnotherapist. If you and Bob decide you want to enter the program, I will place you both under hypnosis. While you are hypnotized, I will ask you a series of questions about your life, your relationship, your sexual needs and boundaries, favorite erotic fantasies, and secret desires. I will also implant into your subconscious a number of carefully designed posthypnotic suggestions that will cause you to act out some of those fantasies in a safe way. To avoid spoiling the surprise, neither of you will remember exactly what fantasies we discussed or what the subconscious triggers are. A week from now you will have done some things that will amaze and delight you both.”

At the word “hypnosis,” Helen’s eyes got wide. “So you take control of people’s minds?”

“No, but that’s a common misconception.” Those incredible eyes were warm, smiling. I had no trouble believing she could put people into a trance. “Being hypnotized does not mean giving up control. If I were to hypnotize you right now and command you to commit a felony you would wake up immediately and tell me off. No hypnotist can make you do something that is against your personal morals and beliefs. What hypnosis can do, what we do here, is to temporarily relieve some of your natural inhibitions so that you and Bob can explore your erotic boundaries a little.

“That’s why we only work with couples, Helen. Couples with a stable relationship enjoy our program so much that their referrals keep us in business. No couple has ever left my office unhappy.” Then she turned to me. “What do you think about all this, Bob?”

I couldn’t answer right away. Mostly I’d been thinking about the idea of watching this woman hypnotize Helen, or better yet having her do it to me. I felt the beginnings of a hard-on stirring in my groin and wasn’t sure how to hide it. Madeline just waited, an enigmatic smile on her face. “I’ve never been hypnotized before,” I finally said. “I’m not sure I can be.”

“How about you, Helen?”

“Once,” she responded. “Ages ago. When I turned 19 some friends took me to a hypnotist show. I was watching from the audience and then I sort of faded out. When I woke up I was on stage and everyone was laughing and clapping. My friends told me I did some strange things, but all I remember is how good I felt afterwards.”

“You must have been in a very deep trance. It’s a very useful ability to have, Helen, don’t be ashamed of it. Are you willing to let me hypnotize you today and talk about your private thoughts?”

Helen considered. “Does it have to be in front of Bob?”

“Huh?” I started to protest, but Madeline motioned for me to stay quiet.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” Madeline’s manner stayed smooth and unsurprised, like a practiced shrink. “In order to completely enjoy the adventure, you have to trust one another. Having you here together while we talk is an important step in building that trust. It’s natural to be uneasy about how Bob might react, especially knowing that we will be discussing your sex life with him in great detail. Is there something more than that troubling you, Helen?”

Helen thought about it a little before answering. “No, that’s pretty much it.”

“Then relax, Helen, and don’t worry about it. Bob will be here, and Bob will witness everything we talk about, just as you will be here and witness everything that Bob and I talk about. But by the time you leave here today neither of you will remember any of those discussions. You have my solemn word on that. Remember, satisfaction is guaranteed.”

“Okay, I can accept that.”

Madeline nodded approvingly. “Very good. Bob, are you willing to let me hypnotize you today, in front of Helen, and talk about your most intimate fantasies and thoughts?”

Putting on a brave front for Helen’s benefit, I answered without hesitation: “Absolutely.”

“Very well, then. Why don’t you both use the rest room while I get some final paperwork together? We’ll begin in about 15 minutes.”

Helen looked at me sheepishly as she emerged from the ladies’ room. “Are you upset with me for not wanting you there?”

“It surprised me,” I admitted. “I still don’t quite get it.”

She nodded. “When we go back in there, Madeline is going to start asking me frank, intimate questions about our life and I won’t be able to do anything but answer honestly. We don’t talk about . bedroom things . very often, and I’m afraid that you might find some of those answers a little disturbing.”

“Is there something wrong? Something we need to talk about?” An icy chill ran up my spine.

“No no no,” she replied at once, grasping my hand in hers. “Nothing wrong. It’s hard to explain. I really don’t want to try to explain it in a public place, if that’s okay.”

“It’s okay, I can wait. But understand this, Helen: you are my wife, my lover, and my best friend. If you confess to a closet desire for a big, strong guy in a leather mask to handcuff you to the bed and screw your brains out, I promise I won’t think any less of you.”

That got her smiling again. “You wish.”

When we returned to Madeline’s office, she handed each of us another clipboard. “One more piece of paperwork before we start,” she explained. “This is a standard release form. In simple English, it says that you consent to being hypnotized, that while under hypnosis you will answer questions of a frank and intimate nature, and that you will be given sexually explicit suggestions while under hypnosis that will compel you to perform sexual acts. We guarantee to keep all information we gather about you confidential, and you agree not to hold us responsible for any accidental injury, illness or pregnancy that might result.”

“More weasel words from the lawyers?” I asked.

“No, this one was my idea. I’ve found that a client’s subconscious is even more cooperative if the client has already consciously agreed. In your mind, you are giving me permission to hypnotize you and prime your subconscious with erotic suggestions. That permission helps to break down any low-level resistance or fear you may still have.”

I just had to ask: “Has anyone actually gotten pregnant doing this?”

Madeline favored me with another delicious smile. “Only once that we know of. One of my colleagues had a couple conceive during their program. They named the baby after him.” We all chuckled at that one.

Helen and I signed our forms and handed them back to Madeline. Setting the clipboards aside, she continued. “Okay, let’s try a little test. I want both of you to listen closely and do what I say. This will help me to gauge how good your imaginations are and how best to help you enter the deepest trance states.

“First, I want you to hold your arms straight out in front of you. Don’t clench them, just extend them forward and leave them as relaxed as you can.” I extended my arms forward, seeing Helen do the same. “Good. Now I want you to close your eyes. I am going to count to five. With each count, I will say the word ‘in’ and when I say ‘in’ I want you to take a nice, slow, easy, deep breath. You will hold that breath until I say ‘out’. When I say ‘out’ I want you to slowly, easily, gently exhale and feel your body relaxing and settling into the chair. Ready?”

“Ready,” we said.

“One. In .” I inhaled slowly and deliberately until my lungs felt full. “. Out .” I loosened my jaw and let the air escape through my lips. I think I heard Helen doing the same. Madeline praised our early efforts. “Very good, both of you. Now two, in . out . Fine, now three, in . out . just letting yourself settle a little further into the chair. Four, in . out . your mind should be clearing and feeling quiet. Five, in . out . excellent, both of you.

“Now for an imagination exercise. I want you to imagine that I have placed the handle of an empty bucket in your left hand, allowing the bucket to hang down below that hand. The bucket can be metal, plastic, wood, whatever you want it to be. It can be shiny or dirty, old or new, your choice. Now, I want you to imagine that I have tied a string loosely around your right wrist. Just an ordinary, everyday piece of household string, like kite string or package string. It’s soft and not too tight. See it in your mind. Do you see the bucket and the string? Nod when you see them.”

I felt myself nodding. Yes, I could see them. The bucket was a simple metal pail with a wooden grip in the middle of a simple wire handle. The string looked exactly like a kite string, strong but soft on the hands, and it was looped gently around my wrist.

“You are both doing very well. Now please imagine that I have placed a brick inside the bucket. A big, heavy brick like you’d find in a chimney or a fireplace. You can hear the ‘thunk’ as the brick lands in the bottom of your bucket. . Good, you are starting to feel the weight of the brick in the bucket. Now I am going to add five more bricks, each one making the bucket heavier and heavier. One . Two . Three, feeling the bucket get so heavy, your left arm feeling the strain from holding up so many heavy bricks . Four . Five. There are now six heavy, solid bricks in your bucket. You can feel the great weight of all those bricks pulling down, pulling down against your hand as you struggle to hold onto the handle. Don’t let the bucket fall. Hold those bricks as long as you can.”

This was getting strange. I knew it was just an imagination exercise, but I really did feel a huge, heavy weight pulling down on my hand, just as if I really was holding a bucket of bricks. With my eyes closed it was tough to be sure, but I thought I could feel my arm slowly starting to sink down, pulled down by the weight I was holding.

“Wonderful, Bob. Wonderful, Helen. You are both doing so well, you should be very pleased. Now, while you continue to hold your bucket of bricks, I want you to turn your attention to your right arm. The string is still loosely tied to your right wrist and now you can see what is at the other end. You see a balloon, big and round and brightly colored, attached to the end of the string. It is a helium-filled balloon. I now release the balloon and you can see it rising into the air until the string around your wrist stops it from rising further. Watch the balloon as it tugs gently on the string, trying to pull your arm upward ever so slightly. Now imagine that as you watch the balloon, it begins to grow. Bigger and bigger, the balloon fills with more and more helium. The bigger it grows, the more it wants to fly away, the more it tugs on your wrist. Keep watching the balloon, watching as it get bigger and lighter. Feel it pulling up on your arm as it strains to break free.”

There was silence for a few moments while I watched my balloon do what Madeline had described. The string around my wrist went tight, and I started to feel a strong pull upward as the balloon got bigger.

“Very good, both of you. Now you can open your eyes and see the results of your work.”

I opened my eyes and blinked a couple of times. My arms were still outstretched in front of me, but my left arm had dropped almost to my lap and my right had risen so that hand was just above eye level. “Cool!” I remarked, putting them both back on the armrests of my chair. Then I looked over at Helen. Her left arm was pointing almost straight down, having missed the armrest. I could see her fingers trembling as if from heavy exertion as they remained hooked around empty space. At the same time, her right arm was pointing at the ceiling, the hand bent at the wrist as if held up by wires. Her face looked strained, uncomfortable, and she was looking pointedly at Madeline. “This is getting very uncomfortable, and I can’t seem to stop.”

Madeline beamed. “I’m sorry Helen, I didn’t mean to cause you discomfort. Please let go of the bucket, let it fall to the ground and roll away. On the count of three the string tied to your right arm will break and the balloon will float off on its own. One, two, three.”

It was amazing. Helen’s right arm dropped like a stone on the count of three. Her left arm relaxed, then she slowly brought it up before herself and flexed the hand a few times, like you would do if you had just put down a heavy load.

“Did we pass the test?” I asked. For some reason it seemed important to get Madeline’s approval.

“You did,” she answered. “Both of you will have no difficulty entering a deep trance. In fact, you were both in a moderate trance during the test, which is why your bodies reacted so well. You are very hypnotizable. Who would like to go first?”

Helen put her hand up right away. “I will.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, remembering her reservations about having me there.

Helen nodded firmly. “I’m sure. I trust you.”

Madeline nodded. “Then let’s begin.” She rose from her chair, came around the desk and sat down on a short upholstered stool with ball casters. Rolling up close to Helen’s face, she lowered her voice and started talking. “Watch Helen’s face very closely, Bob. She is about to enter a deep hypnotic sleep and you need to be able to recognize the signs that she has done this.”

I scooted my chair around a little to get a better viewing angle on Helen. Her face looked a little uneasy, but not too scared. I saw Madeline hold up the first two fingers on her right hand in a V and point them toward her own face.

“Helen, I want you to look right here. Don’t take your eyes from mine. Don’t move or speak or nod your head or make any sound unless I ask you to. I know that you hear and understand me just as you know it. If you follow my simple instructions, there is nothing that can keep you from entering a very deep, pleasant state of hypnosis in just a fraction of a second. Take a deep breath now and fill up your lungs.” I noted the slow rise of Helen’s chest, even as my eyes remained locked on her face. As Helen inhaled, I also noticed Madeline’s right hand moving upward. “Now exhale.” Helen’s lips parted and she exhaled as Madeline’s hand slowly sunk back down. As Helen let the breath go her face started becoming softer, more relaxed, like when she is asleep. They repeated the cycle of inhale and exhale several more times. On the second exhale, Helen’s eyes went glassy like she had stopped focusing, although they were still pointing right at Madeline’s face. A couple more breaths and they started tearing and blinking more frequently.

Then I started to notice things about myself. My own breathing had begun to follow Helen’s and Madeline’s, slowly inhaling and exhaling on her command. And as I watched Helen and realized that she was really falling so easily under Madeline’s spell, a raging hard-on took hold of me. I shifted involuntarily, trying to make room in my pants for it.

“Very good, Helen. You are relaxed, you are feeling wonderfully drowsy, ready to enter a deep, satisfying state of hypnosis.” Madeline raised her hand well above Helen’s head level, but far enough in front that Helen’s peripheral vision could probably pick it up. “Now, I’m going to count from five down to one. As I count down, your eyelids grow heavy, droopy, drowsy, and sleepy. By the time I reach the count of one, they close right down and you go deep in hypnotic sleep, deeper than you’ve ever gone before. All right, five .” Helen’s eyes reacted exactly as she was told, I could see her struggling to hold them up. Madeline’s hand moved slowly downward as she continued counting. “Four: eyelids heavy, droopy, drowsy, sleepy . Three: Eyelids getting heavier and heavier, ready to close and relax completely . Two: They begin closing, closing, closing, closing, closing . One. Sleep now, Helen.”

All through the count I could see wrinkles forming on Helen’s forehead as she fought to keep her dazed, empty eyes open. The second Madeline said ‘One’, something snapped and Helen’s face went totally slack. Her whole body just slumped down in the chair like a rag doll. I had to bite my lip to keep from coming in my pants.

Madeline shifted and looked back at me, pointedly observing the tent pole trying to push through my zipper. “What’s your first impression of hypnosis, Bob?”

No point in denying it, the physical evidence was too obvious. “I’ve never seen anything so hot in my life,” I told her. Suddenly I wondered what I would feel when it was my turn with Helen watching, and my cock got even stiffer.

“I thought you might like that induction. You’ll enjoy it even more when your turn comes, I assure you.”

I just gulped and stared into those powerful eyes, still painfully hard and closer to an embarrassing solo orgasm than I ever thought possible.

Madeline’s voice brought me back to the here and now. “Bob, I’m going to spend some time on deepening Helen’s trance state. This would be a good opportunity for you to get up, stretch, walk around a little, have some water if you like. Come back in about ten minutes.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. I got up and hustled to the bathroom like a little kid at the end of a long drive. Once there, I started splashing cold water on my face and commanded my cock to stand down. It took most of my ten minutes and lots of cold water, but I did manage to get hold of myself, figuratively speaking. Fortunately for me, nobody else came in during that time. (Had I known that I would have the restroom to myself for that long, I probably would have jerked off into the commode instead.)

When I returned to Madeline’s office I was surprised to see that Helen had moved. She was now lying prone on the daybed, a body-length pillow underneath her. Except for the fact that she was fully clothed (other than her shoes, which I saw on the floor near her feet), she looked like someone about to get a massage. Her face was beautiful, completely loose and at rest. Even asleep, Helen didn’t usually look this relaxed. Then I realized she was talking, slowly and deliberately. “. My brakes were wet and I couldn’t stop in time. I ended up hitting the car in front of me. The driver came running back toward me and I thought he was going to start yelling at me, but all he did was ask if I was all right. He was so nice.”

“Luckiest accident I’ve ever been in,” I added, but Helen paid no attention.

“He used his auto club card to get a tow truck for my little car and drove me home. He kept asking me if I was all right, and I kept telling him I didn’t know. A few days later we had our first date.”

Madeline had been listening intently, as if making mental notes. She looked up at me with approval in her eyes. “Thank you, Helen. Please relax, let your mind wander for a while, until I touch your leg. While you are wandering, pay no attention to anything you might think you hear. When I touch your leg that means it is time to continue our conversation.”

She turned to me. “Were you really upset with her?”

“I was pretty pissed,” I answered truthfully. “By the time I got close enough to see her, I knew she was embarrassed and upset already. I figured, why be an asshole?” She wrote a little more. “I see you’ve started the Q and A without me,” I observed.

“Not really. I just moved her to a more comfortable position and asked about how you first met, mostly to get her used to the idea of answering my questions while still in hypnosis. Now that you’re back, we can begin in earnest.” She reached over and touched Helen on the back of her leg. Helen didn’t move a muscle. “Helen, it is time for me to ask you some very personal questions. Bob is here with me, but neither you nor he will remember anything we say. You will want to answer me as honestly and completely as you can so that I can help you, do you understand?”

“Yes, Madeline.”

The question and answer session went on for over an hour. I was completely awake during the whole time, but for the life of me I can’t remember a damn thing either woman said. I do remember an emotional thrill ride that had me constantly switching between surprise, shock, arousal, and disbelief.

In hindsight, I have a pretty good general idea what information Madeline was gathering. Some of the questions had to involve Helen’s feelings about sex: preferred locations and positions, where and how she likes to be touched, orgasms, taboos, things like that. Fantasies, of course. There also had to have been a few questions about how she and I were getting along and what our schedules for the coming week looked like. She planted at least one posthypnotic trigger, which she would demonstrate shortly.

The next thing I remember clearly is Madeline telling Helen to wake up. Helen’s eyes popped open, blinked heavily a couple times, then opened wide as she took a good look around. “I seem to have been transplanted,” she remarked.

“The chair wasn’t supporting your head and neck very well,” Madeline explained. “It seemed uncomfortable and was interfering with your breathing a little, so I had you move.”

Then I saw she was looking at me. “Bob, honey? Are you okay?”

I remember a strange, disturbed feeling. After all, at that point I hadn’t been hypnotized yet. Whatever Helen had said in her trance, I had witnessed it and still remembered everything. I remember putting on a smile mask and telling her I was fine. She didn’t seem convinced, but Madeline came to my aid.

“He’s having a very intense emotional reaction, Helen,” she explained. “He has heard a lot of things in the past hour, and some of them were very surprising to him. What’s important for you to realize is that he listened to everything and that he still loves you, despite what you feared.”

I made good strong eye contact with Helen, whose face was flushed again. “She’s right,” I told her. “Some of the things you said surprised me. Some of them excited me. All of them are your thoughts and your ideas, and none of them have made me love you any less. Besides, in another hour or so I won’t remember any of it, so don’t worry.”

Helen rose off the daybed and met me in the middle of the room for a long, warm hug and kiss. Madeline let it go on for several minutes before suggesting that we take our seats and continue. She had us turn our chairs toward each other more to improve Helen’s view, then rolled her little stool over next to me.

Making a V with her fingers, she pointed them at her own eyes. “Bob, I want you to look right here. Don’t take your eyes from mine. Don’t move or speak or nod your head or make any sound unless I ask you to. I know that you hear and understand me just as you know it. If you follow my simple instructions, there is nothing that can keep you from entering a very deep, pleasant state of hypnosis in just a fraction of a second. Take a deep breath now and fill up your lungs. . ”

Just like Helen I woke up prone on the daybed, fully clothed except for my shoes. It was a very strange sensation—one second I was in a chair taking that first deep breath, the next I was in a different place and position entirely. As my head cleared I became aware of Helen staring at me, her face a mixture of puzzlement, fear and wonder. Much like mine must have looked to her when she woke up, I thought.

Madeline’s voice asked, “How do you feel, Bob?”

“Good.” Even as I said that I was double-checking and discovering that good was an understatement. I felt positively radiant.

“I’m glad. Bob, can you please tell me some of the things you heard Helen say under hypnosis today?”

“Sure. Let’s see, there was . she said . I think .” It was the damnedest thing.

“It’s okay, Bob,” Madeline assured me. “You don’t have to remember. You will never need to remember anything that you heard during Helen’s trance, or anything we talked about during your trance.” That was a relief. “Helen, why don’t you sit down next to Bob and we’ll try another exercise?”

Helen muttered a subdued “okay” and joined me on the daybed. We sat facing each other, arms touching at the back but with enough space between our bodies for a third person as Madeline continued. “I want you to watch each other very closely. We are now going to practice a simple suggestion that I gave to each of you. Helen, I want you to start reciting the alphabet to Bob. Do it slowly and maintain eye contact.”

Our eyes locked together, Helen began saying the letters. When she reached ‘E’ I heard Madeline’s voice say “Helen, sleep now.” She never made it to ‘F’—instead, her eyes turned glassy and rolled back into her head, her mouth dropped open and she melted into the cushions around her. One second she was there, the next she was gone. I remembered the time she had an outpatient surgery and the anesthesiologist let me stay with her to keep her calm; I saw him insert a hypodermic needle in her IV tube, and within five seconds Helen went from being a nervous wreck to a peaceful, sleeping angel. The strange mixture of memory and reality was getting me hard again as I heard Madeline say, “Helen, wake up.”

Helen awoke with a start, looking around, then sat straight up again. “F . G .”

“You can stop now,” Madeline said. “Quickly, though, look at Bob. Watch Bob.”

Helen’s eyes locked on mine again as Madeline spoke: “Bob, sleep now.” Something grabbed onto my eyelids and dragged them down, and my body went totally limp. So this is what it feels like, I thought as I let go to the fog engulfing my mind.

Madeline kept doing it to us in turns, putting us under with a word and then waking us up again. I lost count of how many times we repeated the cycle, but I did notice that waking up seemed to be getting more difficult with each try.

“This is called fractionation,” Madeline explained. “A series of rapid reinductions helps your mind get used to going into deeper and deeper trance states quickly.”

“Wonderful,” I said sarcastically. I was starting to wonder if this was really such a good idea; the power this stranger now had over us was unnerving. “How many more rides on this elevator?”

“Just one, I think. Bob and Helen, sleep now.”

“Fully awake now, refreshed and alert.” And just that easily we were, although it took me a few minutes to be sure we would stay that way. Helen and I were still on the daybed, but now we were sitting closely together, arms intertwined across the back edge. I felt great. Helen’s face had a glow that I hadn’t seen in a long time. The watch on her wrist read 5:40, but somehow that didn’t surprise me.

Madeline offered us each her hand. “That concludes this session,” she said. “I must say I’m looking forward to working with you both. You are a very special couple.”

“What happens next?” Helen asked.

“Next, I take everything we discussed here and work up a plan for your adventures.”

“Can you give us a hint?”

Madeline gave us a thoughtful look. “It’s a little too early to say. I can make a few general observations if you want.”

“Please,” we said together, bringing a broad smile to Madeline’s face.

“Very well. Like many couples in long-term relationships, you two have defined roles for yourselves which feel safe and comfortable, but which are also very confining. You are both strong personalities accustomed to being in control; that leads to unwitting power struggles in the bedroom while you each try to ensure that the other is satisfied, with the unintended result of less enjoyable sex for both of you. Finally, you are also both very shy about discussing your sexual needs and feelings with each other, not just during sex but in general. These are things we will work on early and often throughout the program.”

“What about the fantasies?” Helen asked anxiously.

“You both have some very interesting fantasies,” she answered. “Not surprisingly, control figures prominently in them. Each of you has fantasies in which you are completely in control, and also in which you are completely out of control. We should be able to give you each an opportunity to experience both while hopefully fulfilling some other desires. I still need to sketch out the details, but you have my word you will enjoy it.”

“What will you do, call us or something?”

“I’ll be calling you both often,” Madeline assured us. “Most of the time you won’t remember it, but we’ll be in frequent contact.” She pressed a button on her phone, and right away the cute blonde receptionist poked her head in the door. “Kym, I want you to meet Bob and Helen. Kym will be assisting me with your program.”

“Hi,” Kym said, coming forward with a hand extended. At close range I confirmed my initial assessment: twenty-something, very pretty, with fine blonde hair so pale that the fluorescent lights in the office made it seem almost white. Like Madeline she was dressed in simple business attire, but her jacket and skirt were clearly designed to highlight, rather than mask, her feminine charms. We shook hands politely.

Madeline asked Kym to show us out, so she led us into the hallway, closing Madeline’s door behind her. Once clear of the office, she bent toward us and in a low voice said, “That was a very long appointment. Madeline must like you a lot.”

“Is that good?” Helen asked.

“It’s great,” the girl answered. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. Madeline is a professional; she always does her best for each couple she sees. But when she really likes a couple, her creativity just soars. You two are in for a wild ride.”

Something in her face aroused my curiosity. “Has Madeline ever hypnotized you?”

Kym nodded, flashing a dazzling smile. “Oh, yes. More often than I realize, I’m sure. Madeline is training me to be a facilitator myself. I just hope I can be half as good at it as she is.”

Ushering us out the door, the girl bid us goodnight. I heard the turn of the lock as she closed the door behind us.