The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Hi Mom. It’s so good to see you. And I wanted to tell you that I feel so much better about everything since our last talk.”

“I’m so glad, Janey. I want you to be happy.”

“I know Mom, and I love you for it. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, my dear. You know, since our discussion, I’ve been thinking about my family. I’ve never been able to talk with my mother the way you talked with me last week. From time to time I’ve considered telling her about your Father and me, and I just can’t. I wonder if she’s ever had similar experiences, but I can’t bring myself to raise the subject.”

“I understand, Mom. If I hadn’t found those letters, I don’t think I could ever have talked with you about it.”

“I know, and I’m so pleased you found them. Anyway, while I was thinking about all this, I remembered a set of letters that my grandmother left me when she died. They’re from around the time of the revolutionary war, and she put a note in her will saying that they were written by one of her mother’s ancestors. I’ve been wondering why Grandma considered those letters so important that she mentioned them in her will. She never hinted at anything while she was alive, and Grandpa died before she did, so I couldn’t ask him. I thought you might be interested in reading them. It seems that our experiences have some historic roots!”

“Really? How fascinating! Would you mind if I read them now?”

“Not at all, dear. I got them out since I knew you were coming. Here you are—take as long as you like. I’m going to write a letter or two while you read.”

“Thanks Mom.” Janey took the small pile, bound with an yellowed satin ribbon. The letters were on heavy paper, colored with the brownish patina of age. Although the ink was a bit faded, it was quite clear, and Janey was surprised by how well the letters were preserved after more than two hundred years. “These must have been well sealed to have survived so well,” she thought. She opened the first letter and began to read.

June 24, 1784

My dear brother Michael,

I must apologize for my lack of attendance to our correspondence, my dear brother. When I tell you of how much I have been in demand, and of the events which have engaged me, I hope you will forgive me. I shall do my utmost to heal the breach, by relating those activities that have been consuming my attention, hoping that they will interest you, and that you will respond with any thoughts you may find apropos.

My sojourn in Boston after so many months on the continent has been far more pleasurable than I had anticipated. The impression made by General Lafayette on my fellow New-Englanders has secured me a place at any social gathering I wish to attend, as a purveyor of the latest news regarding Parisian fashions. In the past month I have attended numerous balls, cotillions, and smaller gatherings at some of the finest homes in this fair city. Several firms of solicitors have expressed interest in employing my services should I choose to reside here, and several young ladies seem to favor my attention.

There is one young woman in particular who has captured my imagination. It is only with you, my dear brother, that I feel free to share my experiences, to relate the events that have transpired, and to speak openly of the thoughts and feelings that have been seething in my fevered brain and breast. I apologize for conveying this in such dramatic style, but I do not exaggerate when I tell you that the occurrences of the last few days have been so far out of the realm of my ordinary experience that they seem to be the stuff of dreams. But I digress.

The young lady of whom I speak is Mistress Abigail Van Horn, the daughter of a prosperous merchant and scion of one of Boston’s leading families. By happenstance, I made the acquaintance of Squire Van Horn at a dance, and discovered a mutual interest in antiquarian manuscripts. Discovering in my person a kindred spirit, he invited me home to view his collection, and attend a small soirée. The squire’s collection really is quite exquisite. He has a first edition Pepys that appears to have just left the press, and two or three medieval illuminations that rival the finest I have seen in London. The evening’s entertainment was also most enjoyable. A handful of merchants, bankers, and professional men were in attendance, all of the city’s upper social ranks, accompanied by their wives. Madame Van Horn presided, a most stately and gracious woman, assisted by her two daughters, the aforementioned Mistress Abigail, and her sister, Mistress Sarah.

Mistress Abigail is a young woman of twenty years, until recently in attendance at one of Massachusetts’ leading finishing schools, now residing with her parents and, I suspect, waiting for the right suitor, of which there are evidently an abundance. Mistress Abigail is of medium height, adorned with a crown of long reddish-gold hair, which she wears loosely gathered, and graced with the fair complexion often found amongst those so clearly descended from the Celtic bards. This ancestry is evidenced by her abundant talents—indeed, she and her equally gifted younger sister graced our assembled company with musical entertainment that lofted our senses far beyond the usual enjoyment obtained by a pair of lovely young ladies employing their skills in the drawing room. Mistress Sarah sang songs with a sweetness of voice I have rarely had the pleasure to experience, whilst accompanied by Sister Abigail on the pianoforte. Mistress Abigail played with a lilting grace that evoked a dance of the Naiads on distant mythic shores; I was transported to celestial spheres by her sweet and simple beauty as she coaxed the most enchanting sounds from the instrument.

You may think me smitten, my dearest Michael, and I must confess I found my mind turning towards thoughts of what a delightful companion the elder sister (the younger, at 14, being too tender of years for my consideration) would make. I hope you will not find me foolish, and that you will indulge your brother in a detailed account of the events of that evening—events that I suspect will have such import for me that I feel compelled to recount them to the very best of my recollection, such that you might know and understand, and advise me as the loving elder brother you have always been.

After the musical entertainment was concluded, Mistress Abigail seated herself near me on the settee, and engaged me in conversation. I found her manner both proper and charming as she questioned me on my recent travels.

“One hears that you have been gracing the salons of Paris, Master Allen. I would so love to hear the latest news from that fair city.”

“Of course, Mistress Abigail. It would be my pleasure to indulge your curiosity, and play the part of emissary from distant shores.”

“Oh, Master Allen. What wit you have. I am sure the young ladies of Paris were all heartbroken at your departure.”

“Perhaps, Mistress Abigail, but if so, the sentiment was not completely mutual—I found none that could compare with the grace and beauty of their American cousins.”

“Master Allen, you are a flatterer.” The young lady blushed and dropped her eyes, then peered up at me through lowered lashes, a smile playing about her lips.

“But tell me, Master Allen, we hear such interesting tales of a Doctor Mesmer. The reports are that he has taken Paris quite by storm. Did you have the pleasure of observing this mysterious ‘Animal Magnetism’ that he claims to have discovered?”

“Indeed I did, Mistress Abigail. I had the pleasure of participating in several such demonstrations. In fact, I had opportunity to become personally acquainted with the good Doctor, and received some instruction in the techniques used in his magnetic experiments.”

“Did you, Master Allen? How perfectly wonderful. I wonder if you would tell us how it works, and the effects that are observed?”

“The principals are as yet unclear, Mistress Abigail. Doctor Mesmer believes that each person had a quantity of magnetic fluid flowing through their body, and that passes of the hands, properly applied, can be used to align that fluid in certain persons, or as he calls them, ‘subjects’. A subject who has been so magnetized, will find their limbs being drawn towards those of the operator, and other effects, some most beneficial, may be obtained.”

“What are those other effects, Master Allen?”

“A magnetized subject reports feeling very relaxed, and often drowsy. They may appear at times to be asleep, yet they are able to respond to the operator when questioned. It seems to be a type of trance, although of a form as yet incompletely understood. The magnetic state has been found to be most efficacious at treating nervous disorders, particularly hysteria. An interesting effect of the magnetic state is that the subject appears to be quite suggestible, and readily follows instructions from the operator, sometimes even days after all other effects of the magnetism have disappeared. Certain subjects after being magnetized, or as some people call it, “mesmerized,” claim to have no memory of the experience.

“Why, that sounds just fascinating, Master Allen. I wonder if you would demonstrate this for us?”

“I would be most willing, Mistress Abigail, if the other guests are interested, and if a volunteer can be secured.”

“As to the latter, I should be most willing to have you magnetize me, Master Allen. Are the ladies and gentlemen interested in a demonstration?”

There was much enthusiastic assent from the ensemble. Mistress Abigail wet her lips slightly, appearing just the least bit flushed as she smiled at me. I had her seat herself comfortably in an armchair, and positioned myself before her.

“Are you ready to proceed, Mistress Abigail?” I asked.

“Proceed at will,” she replied with a smile.

Although Doctor Mesmer is firmly convinced that the magnetic effects derive solely from alignment of the fluid as a consequence of magnetizing passes made by the hands of the operator, he privately confided that verbal suggestions seem to enhance the magnetic process. He also revealed an abundance of additional information to me, much of it gathered in private experiments unknown to the public at large. I may have more to say about this at a later date. One item that I found quite fascinating, is his claim that women are much more susceptible to magnetic effects, perhaps due to the presence of certain humours in their bodies not found in those of the masculine gender.

Taking his advice, I began speaking to Mistress Abigail in a low voice. “I will begin the magnetic passes now. You will notice that each part of your body becomes relaxed, and then begins to respond to the magnetic flow in my hands. When you feel that happening, just allow the magnetic forces to accumulate, do not try to control them in any way. Now as I begin to make passes along your arms, you will notice a warm feeling as the magnetic fluid begins to respond. When you notice that sensation, just nod your head. It will be best if you do not speak, but simply focus on the magnetic flow. There. You feel it. You are doing very well, I think that you will prove to be an excellent subject for mesmerism.”

As I spoke, I was passing my hands over her, three or four inches away from her body, in slow, rhythmic gestures. Her eyes followed my hands, and she began to exhibit the distant gaze that so often seems to accompany the magnetic state.

“Now, as your arms become magnetized, they will begin to rise up. The magnetic force will pull them towards my hands, my magnetizing hands. You feel it, do you not? Good. Do not try to lift them on your own, and do not try to stop them. Simply let the magnetic force pull them. Upwards. Upwards. Upwards. Good. Now the magnetic force will hold them in place. You may try to lower your arms now, but you will discover they are magnetized into position. Try just a bit harder. Good. You are responding so well, Mistress Abigail. I will make reverse passes now, which will release your arms and allow them to lower. Good. You can simply let your hands rest in your lap now, as I continue to magnetize the rest of your body.”

I made passes over her legs and torso, as I continued to suggest the sensations and movements of magnetic response. When my hands moved to her face, her eyes locked onto them, following each movement intently.

“Now I am going to magnetize your eyelids. When you feel them wanting to close, just let that happen. There, you feel the magnetic flow pulling them downward now. Go ahead, give in, let it happen now. Good. Now as I reverse the passes, your eyes will open, and your body is completely magnetized now. Good.”

She responded most readily as I mesmerized her. When her eyes opened, they had a dull and lusterless appearance. Her mouth hung slightly open, and her features appeared completely relaxed. As is characteristic of the deepest magnetic states, she was very focused on my voice, and I was able to elicit magnetic responses with the least word or gesture.

“How do you feel right now, Mistress Abigail?”

“Dreamy. I am floating. Everything seems so far away. I am just listening to your voice, and I feel wonderful.”

“Is it easy to follow my voice?”

“Oh yes, I love your voice, and I want to follow it.”

“You are doing so well, Mistress Abigail. Let us try a few simple experiments now and see how you respond to the magnetic state. Have you noticed how warm it is in here, Mistress Abigail?”

“Yes, I have. It really is quite warm.”

“Yes, it is very warm. Very, very warm. Too warm to be comfortable, in fact.”

“Oh, you are right. It is much too warm. Do you suppose I might remove my shawl?”

“I think that would be entirely appropriate, Mistress Abigail. It is really much too warm for a shawl.”

As she slid the shawl off her shoulders, I was convinced she is what Doctor Mesmer calls a “deep magnetic subject.” She was thoroughly magnetized, and exhibiting the heightened suggestibility typical of that state. I suggested that she was cool and comfortable again, then proceeded with several more trials of magnetic phenomenon. Mistress Abigail continued to prove very responsive to all the experiments, and the guests seemed most interested in her responses. After exhausting my store of parlour demonstrations, with a series of reverse passes I removed the magnetic effects. Mistress Abigail blinked a few times, and assumed her everyday demeanor.

“Oh, that was so unusual.”

“How do you feel, Miss Abigail?”

“I feel wonderful, Master Allen. When you were magnetizing me, I felt so strange. It was such a dreamy sensation, almost like falling asleep, yet I could hear your voice so clearly. When you magnetized my arms, I could feel them being pulled upwards. The magnetic force was so strong. After that everything got fuzzy, and I really cannot remember what happened. Was I magnetized for very long?”

“About an hour, Mistress Abigail. You were an excellent subject.”

“An hour. Oh my, I would have said it was five or at most ten minutes.”

“That is a common response among subjects who respond well to magnetic influences.”

“Well, Master Allen, I must thank you. It was a most enjoyable experience, and perhaps you will magnetize me again sometime.” She smiled at me sweetly, her soft, wide, green eyes staring into mine.

The thought of this young woman responding to my magnetic gestures has filled my mind these last days. She looked so lovely, and was so pliant as she submitted to each trial. Although she is a very proper young lady, I must admit, my dear brother, that some of my thoughts have dwelt in less chaste realms than I should care to admit in her presence. As to whether I shall have future opportunity to explore mesmerism with her, only time will tell.

I hope this missive finds you well. I promise I shall do my utmost to continue my correspondence in a timely fashion.

Your ever loving and devoted brother,

Edward

“My goodness,” thought Janey, “over two centuries, and yet so similar to my experience—and to Mom’s. Maybe this really does run in our family. I hope the rest of these letters tell the whole story.” Eager to delve into the next chapter, Janey read on.

June 28, 1784

My dear brother Michael,

Although it has been less than a week since my last letter, the tide of events has borne me headlong in such a fashion that I feel I must render a complete and detailed report. My experiments with mesmerism have continued, and are taking such a fascinating turn that it will be difficult to convey my excitement. I shall do my best to relate the events in complete detail, that you might be privy to all happenstance and occurrence.

But a single day after my last report, dear brother, I received a note from Squire Van Horn. He had received a shipment of rare books from London and, knowing of my interest, invited me to call upon him at my convenience to view the manuscripts. I partook myself to call upon him the following forenoon, a Saturday, at his home. A pleasant hour was spent in reviewing these admirable treasures, and the squire then graciously invited me to dine with his family. I readily consented, and a more enjoyable meal, in the company of the squire, his charming wife and their two lovely daughters, I have rarely had the pleasure to experience.

After we had finished dining, the squire informed me that he and his wife had a visit to call, but suggested that his daughters would enjoy the presence of my company should I feel inclined to linger. The two girls could chaperone each other, although, he said with a chuckle, he was sure that either would be perfectly safe in the company of such an excellent gentleman as myself, even unsupervised. I blushed at such flattery, and readily consented to extend my visit with the two delightful young ladies. As Squire Van Horn and his wife made for their carriage, Mistress Abigail suggested that we retire to the sitting room.

Once settled, Mistress Abigail, turned to me and eagerly expressed her continued interest in the magnetic phenomenon she had previously experienced.

“It was so interesting, Master Allen, and so enjoyable. I wonder if you would mesmerize me again?”

Well, how could I refuse such a charming request, brother Michael, particularly a request that so well matched my own desires? Mistress Abigail suggested that I magnetize her, while her sister watched on. I assented, and began to make the passes over her body. Doctor Mesmer has noted that the magnetic fluid seems to have a certain memory; once a subject has been successfully magnetized, subsequent magnetization takes effect much more rapidly with more profound results. A few passes, and Mistress Abigail’s eyes sank shut and her body slumped into the chair. I continued making passes and suggesting a deepening of the magnetic state. When I felt that she was fully magnetized, I turned to the sister to comment. To my surprise, Mistress Sarah’s eyes were also closed, and she had the relaxed appearance typical of a deeply mesmerized subject. I performed a few simple tests and verified that indeed she had been magnetized and was fully responsive to the magnetic force of my hands and amenable to my suggestions.

Doctor Mesmer has told me of occasioning on subjects who have unusual susceptibility to magnetic forces, and who can be mesmerized from a distance, at times inadvertently. It appeared that Mistress Sarah is such a subject. The good Doctor has also conveyed his experience that such subjects are often unaware of events around them unless directly addressed by the mesmerist. I decided to test that conjecture with the young Mistress Sarah. I whispered in her ear that she could enjoy remaining magnetized, hearing nothing until I spoke her name. I turned my attention to Mistress Abigail, suggesting that she open her eyes, but remain in her mesmerized state. Her eyes opened and she gazed forward sightlessly. I asked Mistress Sarah if she had heard what I said to her sister, and she replied in the negative. Reinforcing my suggestion that she remain absorbed in her own magnetized state, I returned to her elder sister.

Doctor Mesmer has broadly hinted that certain women, in the altered state of mind induced by the magnetic process, can be persuaded to act in ways that normally they would not consider proper or fitting. Although he has never made direct statements, I gathered a strong impression that he has found it possible to take certain liberties with young women, with no protestation on their part. Indeed if I interpret his implications correctly, some women find such experiences quite enticing, and can readily be induced to perform them repeatedly, albeit with no memory of the events transpired once the magnetic state has been concluded. The secret of such scenarios seems to reside in the alteration of a woman’s sense of reality, produced as a side effect of the magnetic state. Doctor Mesmer has discovered that a subject’s ability to evoke memory and imagination are greatly enhanced. A magnetized woman can readily be persuaded that she is doing or seeing things that in reality exist only in her magnetically stimulated thoughts.

I decided to give these conceptions a small trial with the entranced Miss Abigail. I suggested to the young lady that she was in her bath, that the water was warm and comfortable, and that she was alone. By the smile on her face, and the change in posture as she sank further into her chair, I was led to the conclusion that the magnetic influence was causing her to accept the thoughts I suggested to her, and that she did, in fact, believe herself to be cloistered in her bath. I continued my suggestions, intimating that she wished to scrub herself, making sure that no part of her body went unwashed. To my surprise and, I must admit my dear brother, my delight, she began to run her hands over her body, making scrubbing motions. I was astonished that she showed no reluctance to run her hands firmly over both her breasts, as well as reaching between her legs to reach her nether portions, with motions perfectly imitative of those performed in her regular ablutions.

When she had finished her washing, I asked if she was enjoying being magnetized. She replied enthusiastically, and in reply to my inquiry as to whether she would seek to repeat the experience, her response was the strongest of affirmatives. I told her that if she wished to be mesmerized in the future, it would be important for her to follow all my suggestions, and she most readily assented. I suggested that she would wish to take a stroll on the Commons the following afternoon, and should she encounter me, would find it natural to raise the subject of mesmerism. I gave her sister similar suggestions before rousing both from the magnetic state. In response to my questioning, both admitted to no memory of what had transpired while magnetized. Indeed, the younger sister was unaware that she had been mesmerized, and was unable to recount any occurrences during the previous half hour. Neither sister expressed any distress over their lapses of memory, and I left with the assurance that these experiments in mesmerism were causing no concern for either of the young ladies.

My dearest brother, I wonder if you can imagine the effect of seeing these two young women respond to my suggestions. As I watched the elder sister engaging in the motions of washing, apparently oblivious to the fact that she was being observed, my mind was taking flight. I have had such fantasies, my brother, such wild imaginings. I envision things with the lovely Mistress Abigail that are hardly proper, yet seem so enticing and exciting, that I simply feel I must explore, delving into the power of mesmerism, performing some of the experiments that the good Doctor hinted were possible.

The next day at the appointed time I was delighted to see the two sisters walking on the Commons. They seemed pleased to see me, and we had an enjoyable conversation, sitting on one of the benches conveniently located at the edge of the green. After a time, Mistress Abigail mentioned that she had been enjoying her magnetic experiences, and would like to continue to explore. Her younger sister sat quietly as Mistress Abigail made her request. Of course, I was happy to comply, and a few passes and suggestions were sufficient to deeply entrance her. To my delight, Mistress Sarah also lapsed into a profound magnetic state. I suggested that both open their eyes and walk with me while remaining completely magnetized. To my amazement, both were able to do so, appearing to be in a normal, unmagnetized state, yet it was clear from the way they responded to all my suggestions that both young women were still completely mesmerized.

I led the pair back to my lodgings. Of course, no proper lady would ever be seen entering the abode of a gentleman, but I have discovered a route leading to the servant’s entrance that is removed from public view. We were unobserved in passage, and once settled, I spent a few minutes making additional magnetic passes over the two sisters, ensuring the persistence of the magnetic state. When both appeared to be even more deeply mesmerized, I whispered in the younger sister’s ear that she should sit resting quietly with her eyes closed. She nodded slightly and I noted the appearance of a small smile. Satisfied that she would remain oblivious in her magnetized condition, I took Mistress Abigail by the hand and led her into the adjoining sitting room.

Mistress Abigail had the vacant look so often apparent in those most susceptible to magnetic effects. I motioned her to a seat on the sofa, and seated myself next to her.

“How do you feel, Mistress Abigail?”

“So far away. I am just floating. I feel so wonderful.”

“And what would you like to do now, Mistress Abigail.”

“Whatever you tell me, Master Allen.”

“You want to obey me?”

“Yes. Yes I do. I want to obey you, Master Allen.”

I had been told of such phenomenon by Doctor Mesmer. His understanding of the magnetic state is far deeper than he is wont to publicly reveal. Yet, with a handful of initiates, he is willing to share his knowledge, with the understanding that this information is not be widely disseminated, for fear of its misuse. The learned Doctor has noted that the magnetic state is conducive to eliciting submissive behavior in certain women, and this submissiveness can be employed to gain a deep compliance to the wishes of the operator. This can readily be combined with the ability of these deepest subject to experience hallucinatory phenomenon and profound amnesia—also effects which Doctor Mesmer has chosen not to reveal to the world at large—to induce a range of behaviors far beyond those one would normally anticipate based on the subject’s discernment and moral stature. Based on Mistress Abigail’s responses thus far, I determined to perform a few simple tests, devised by the good Doctor, to determine her suitability for future explorations of a most enjoyable nature. Since we would be engaging in experiences of a more personal and intimate nature, I felt it suitable to employ a more personal form of address.

“Abigail, you enjoy responding to me, do you not?”

“Oh yes, Master Allen, I enjoy it very much.”

“And you want to do anything I tell you, is that correct?”

“Yes, Master Allen, I want to do anything you tell me. Please tell me what you wish, Master Allen.”

“Very, very good, Abigail. I want you to notice the cat sitting on the armchair opposite. A very pretty cat. Do you see it?”

“Oh, what a lovely cat, Master Allen. Is it yours?”

In truth, my dear brother Michael, I own no cat. Doctor Mesmer has noted the ability of a magnetic operator to elicit perceptions from certain subjects based on suggestion alone, with no need for corroborating elements in the physical surrounds. In fact, he has discovered that the subjects most susceptible to magnetic influence will believe anything that the mesmerist suggests, accepting as reality the state of affairs that is presented to them. At my suggestion, Abigail picked up the non-existent cat, and made cooing sounds and petting motions consistent with her belief that a feline was resting in her arms.

Confident that she was in the type of deep state described by Doctor Mesmer, I reached a momentous decision. I would test the Doctor’s theories, enhancing my understanding of the magnetic condition, and taking my pleasure with this beautiful young woman as far as her compliance with my wishes, under the influence of her magnetized state, would permit. It is only to you, my dearest brother, that I can confide a twinge of conscience at this resolution. More than a twinge, should the truth be known. And yet, the temptation was so very strong and enticing, and the protestations in my mind of moral turpitude were assuaged by the knowledge that the aforementioned young lady would have no waking knowledge of the erotic experiences I envisioned, and thus would suffer no regrets or other debilitating emotions. Also, it should be known that my thoughts had already leaped ahead of the dalliance I was planning. Mistress Abigail is such a talented and charming young woman, it is easy for me to conceive of a longer-term alliance, perhaps promoted by the influence of mesmerism on this lovely, pliant creature. Consoling myself with these thoughts, I proceeded with my plan to have her play Danaë to my Zeus.

“Abigail, you are my wife. We were just married and this is our wedding night. You love me very much, and want to do anything to please me. You believe that a wife should submit to her husband and do her best to please him, do you not?”

“Oh yes, husband Edward. And I do so want to please you. What can I do that will make you happy, my husband?”

The mesmerized Mistress Abigail had opened her eyes, and had you been here, my dear Michael, nothing in her demeanor would have hinted at the least at anything out of the ordinary. Any person not privy to her history would have believed her simply to be a young bride, married to the man she loves, and eager to prove herself a pleasing companion. I continued to suggest the scene to her, and ensure her compliance.

“Abigail, you are ready to perform your wifely duties. Even though you may be just the least, tiny little bit scared, you are also very excited. You love me very much, and find me very, very attractive. You sre so glad that you can talk with me about physical pleasures—you feel so open and comfortable with me—and are looking forward to discovering how it is to be a woman with a man, are you not?”

“Oh, husband Edward. I am excited about exploring the pleasures of marriage with you. I love you so, and am so pleased that I can tell you anything.”

The lovely young woman smiled at me, and her gaze was warm, open, inviting. I knew that she would delight me, and then respond to my suggestions to let these events all fade from her mind.

“Abigail, my wife, it is time for bed. It would please me to undress you.”

“Oh Edward, I do so wish that. I want you to see me revealed to you, and I so hope that you will be pleased, my husband.”

“I have no doubts that I will be pleased with such a lovely and willing, sweet wife as yourself, my dearest Abigail.”

At that, the charming Mistress Abigail blushed, lowered her eyes, and then raised them to meet mine, a look of love and devotion on her face. She slid over next to me on the sofa, put her arms around me, and said, “Please undress me, my husband,” as she raised her face for a kiss. How could I refuse to oblige a request put so charmingly?

I know that I should stay my hand, and keep from revealing intimate details of this liaison, yet I also know you will enjoy hearing of this encounter, my dearest brother, so I will press on, trusting to your discretion. As we kissed, I slowly unbuttoned the front of her dress, then slid it off her shoulders. She sighed softly and pressed against me, moving slowly as she continued to kiss me. She murmured, “I so want to please you, my Husband,” delighting me with the depth of her response to the scenario I was painting in her mind. I moved my arms behind, and began unlacing her stays. When her garment was loose, I slid my hands beneath it, and slowly stroked and caressed her firm breasts. Her nipples were tight and she sighed so prettily as I rubbed her.

As I moved to continue undressing her, my eye happened to light on the clock in the corner. Realizing that our dalliance had consumed more of the afternoon than I realized, and that the sisters would be missed should I delay them longer, I instructed the dishabille Mistress Abigail to refasten her clothing. I gave her parting instructions before bringing her out of her trance.

“Abigail, you need not remember what we talked about or did today. Only in your mesmerized state will you remember that you are my loving, submissive wife.” Abigail nodded her head. “Whenever I say to you, ‘Married Life, Abigail’ you will remember how wonderful you feel right now, and will want to serve me as my obedient wife. Do you understand?”

“I understand, husband Edward.”

“Very good. You and your sister will leave now, remembering only a pleasant walk in the park. You will return tomorrow afternoon, making sure that you are not observed in passing. You will do this without thinking about why you are coming, will you not?”

“Yes, husband Edward. I will do as you wish.”

“Excellent, my sweet, loving, obedient wife. You may go now.”

Another of the many magnetic phenomena that Doctor Mesmer has discovered, but chosen not to publish, is the ability of an operator to give a subject a phrase that will, when spoken, instantly return them to the magnetic state. The Doctor claims there is a “magnetic memory” that the body retains, which can be triggered by the voice of the operator. Personally, brother Michael, I fail to see how this phenomenon, if magnetic in nature, can be elicited without the magnetizing passes over the body. I feel that the notion of magnetic fluids is a convenient fiction; that there is an occurrence here which takes place solely in the mind of the subject, and is caused by the operator’s suggestions, but my understanding goes no further. Indeed, it is not truly important, since the effect can be utilized without a deeper understanding of the causal mechanisms. I knew that the phrase I had given Mistress Abigail would return her to a mesmerized trance whenever I spoke it, and that my suggestions for her return the following day would be equally efficacious. I gave her sister a few suggestions that she forget the afternoon’s events, but return with her sister the following day, and then sent the two young ladies on their way.

I shall continue my reportage in my next letter, dear brother Michael, sending this one on its way for your perusal. I hope this note finds you in most excellent health. As always, I look forward to any advice or commentary that you should care to render.

I remain as always, your most loving brother,

Edward

Janey found herself panting as she finished the letter. “This is so erotic,” she thought. “It’s like discovering that one of my ancestors wrote “Lady Chatterly’s Lover,” or “Madame Bovary.” I can’t believe this was going on centuries ago; it’s so wild! I wonder if Edward really was one of my ancestors, and if he married Abigail or someone else? I hope the rest of letters won’t leave me hanging!” Feeling she was on the trail of a mystery, Janey continued to read.

June 30 , 1784

My most beloved brother Michael,

As I am sure you surmised from my last missive, I had planned on a intimate encounter with Mistress Abigail the day following the events related in that note. And so it came to pass. But I get ahead of myself. I shall relate all the details in their proper order, such that you may be fully acquainted with my activities.

The next day, at the appointed hour, the two sisters presented themselves as I had suggested. I had given Mistress Sarah a phrase that would return her to a magnetic trance. When I spoke the phrase, her eyes closed, and she let out a soft sigh. Her elder sister looked at me with a puzzled, inquiring expression. Not wishing Mistress Abigail to worry about what was happening to her younger sibling, I spoke the words that would ensure her compliance with my plans for the day, “Married Life, Abigail.”

Abigail closed her eyes for a brief moment, and when she opened them, they had a soft and loving look, matching the sweet smile gracing her lovely face. She spoke, every nuance of expression radiating her desire to please.

“It is so wonderful to be here with you, Husband Edward. I so wish to make you happy; what do you wish of me, my dear, dear husband?”

“It is our wedding night, darling Abigail. Go undress, get into the bed, and I will join you in just a moment.”

“Oh, yes, dear Edward. I so wish to give myself to you. I hope only that you will be pleased with me.”

“I have no doubt that I will be pleased with you, dear Abigail. What man could not be pleased with such a submissive and obedient wife?”

“Oh, Edward. That is what I wish so very, very much. I want to submit to you, and obey you, and make you happy, my husband. I will do anything for you, my dear Edward, anything you wish.”

“I am very pleased my little wife. Now go prepare for me.”

I pointed towards the bedroom, and Abigail hurried off to do my bidding. I spent a few moments ensuring that Mistress Sarah would sit quietly in her deep trance until I roused her, and then, undressing as I went, made my way to the bedroom. There lay my lovely Abigail, nestled amidst the bedding, a quilt pulled up to her chin, casting a look both demur yet wanton at me. I shed the last of my clothing, and slipped beneath the covers.

A peculiar thing about the magnetic condition, my dear Michael, is the way in which a subject can appear to be in their normal unmagnetized state, and yet still retain the belief patterns and suggestibility of a deeply mesmerized state. And so it was with Abigail, my brother. She was immersed in the role of the virginal, yet willing bride, a role most natural and becoming to her. No one would ever guessed that she was anything but what she appeared, and yet her responsiveness to my suggestions, her pliancy, gave adequate testimony to the altered state of consciousness she had so well learned to assume.

Wishing to view the delights that awaited me, I slowly peeled back the covers, gradually revealing the female form that lay beneath. Mere words can bear poor testament, dearest Michael, to the rapturous sight of feminine pulchritude that thus met my eyes. Her skin is clear, flawless, a delicate shade of alabaster that e’en the finest of sculptors would not scoff to lay hand to. Her breasts are ripe and enchanting, requiring neither stay nor corset for their support, and sporting a pair of nipples of the palest, most delicate pink, that the angels must surely envy such ornamentation. Her waist is pleasingly narrow, flaring to enchanting hips framing the most smooth and lovely of thighs. Nestled between these soft and creamy expanses of skin is the richly cloaked golden fur of her innermost chamber. I know that I run on, extolling her physical virtues, but the delight of having such a rich abundance of treasures arrayed before my eyes, knowing that my hands and eyes were free to feast at will, transported me in a way that I can scarce communicate.

My powers of description fail when it comes to the pleasures that ensued. Had I the gift of one such as Master Cleland, I would paint a picture of our tryst—of the toying, the caressing, the exploring, the soft sighs and murmurs as we joined together. Suffice it to say, my beloved brother, that the pleasure so gained was beyond my wildest dreams. No woman could have shown such tenderness, such willingness, such a desire to please. Nor was the pleasure unshared. The lovely Abigail, after the initial discomfort of accommodating me in a place heretofore unaccustomed to such intrusion, quickly became adjusted to the sensations, and began to meet my enthusiasm with an equal one of her own. As we moved together more and more rapidly, borne on the tide of bliss, I whispered in her ear, urging her to let go of any thoughts or feelings that would hold her back from the utmost pleasure. She responded so strongly to my promptings, and soon she was crying out, “oh, my Husband, oh, so sweet, I am dying, oh, oh, oh,” and other utterances of this ilk. It was but a brief time before I joined her in utter rapture, and we lay thus a long time entwined, striving to regain our breaths and our senses.

When at last, our sensibilities were regained, I had her dress, and admonishing her that our activities should not trouble nor even enter her mind following her departure, I instructed the lovely Abigail and her sister to return the following afternoon, then sent them on their way.

I shall write again soon, my dear brother, and keep you appraised of future events. As always, I wish you the best of health, and hope that the business arrangements you alluded to in your last letter were successfully concluded.

As always, your most devoted brother,

Edward

“Wow!” Janey felt small tremors as she put the letter down. For a brief time she had been there—she was Abigail, and could feel Michael stroking her, entering her, bringing her to climax. She laid the letters on the table, and went to the kitchen cabinet for a glass, which she filled from the sink and sipped slowly, feeling herself beginning to calm. Her mother looked up from her writing questioningly, but Janey simply smiled and shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. She finished the glass, and returned to the letters, only one or two now remaining.

July 7 , 1784

My dearest brother Michael,

I hope you will forgive the brevity of this communiqué. I have been sadly remiss in keeping you appraised of my activities, and have but a moment now to pen a few brief lines. I promise that I shall write again in a day or two.

My dalliances with the sweet, lovely, generous Mistress Abigail have continued since last I wrote. She and her sister return daily, and but a word is required to place Mistress Sarah into a state that so closely resembles sleep, in which she is unaware of the activities in which her elder sister and I engage, and yet another word to induce that sister to don the role of submissive wife, and to shed her clothes.

Indeed our intimate knowledge of each other has grown by leaps and bounds, dear Michael. She is so eager to please, and will do anything that I desire, without question, hesitation, or protestation. She readily takes me in her mouth, at my suggestion exhibiting the utmost signs of pleasure in this activity. I have taught her to display herself for me, to touch herself, to arouse herself. She performs acts in which I imagine many wives would be most reluctant to engage; yet she is so focused on bringing me pleasure, and gaining my approval, that even the smallest thought that these activities might be amiss seems to gain no lodging in her mind. Her obedience, compliance, and accession to my wishes seems to grow stronger each time we are together. I can only conjecture that the experience of being repeatedly mesmerized enhances her suggestibility, making her more and more susceptible to the sway I have over her.

I am becoming quite enamored of this gentle creature, my brother. I feel that the time is coming when a momentous decision will be called for, and I find myself feeling no reluctance at entertaining such thoughts. But more of this when next I write—for now I must depart,

With words of fraternal devotion, your loving brother,

lEdward

Janey knew what was coming next. This was her Mother’s story all over again ... and perhaps her own as well. With a sense that she reading the “happily ever after” ending to a story about two people she knew very well, she opened the last of the letters.

July 9 , 1784

Michael, my dear brother,

As alluded to in my last letter, I have reached a decision with respect to the charming Mistress Abigail. So enjoyable have my liaisons with this enticing creature been, that I am moved to make the married life scenario that we have been enacting a permanent feature of my existence, and take young Mistress Abigail as my wife.

Aside from her obvious physical charms, and her enthusiasm in performing those duties that so endear the fairer sex to us, I also find the young lady to be an excellent companion, and believe she will be a fine helpmeet. In addition to our daily rendezvous, I have called at her father’s house several times, and had opportunities for long conversations with said young lady. On these occasions, I have forgone mesmerizing Mistress Abigail and her sister, deeming the possibility of being espied in such endeavor to outweigh the benefit. It has given me a chance to know Mistress Abigail, however, and appreciate her many fine qualities. She always seems delighted to see me, and lights up in my presence. I sincerely believe that she does not retain conscious memory of our erotic encounters, but the fondness she seems to hold for me I deem to be an unexpected side-effect.

In addition to these considerations, I find her submissiveness, which seems to deepen each day, to be such a delightful attribute in a prospective wife. Her thoughts, when under my magnetic influence, are so directed towards pleasing me, that it would be impossible for me to not want this fair creature for my own.

I anticipate no difficulties in bringing this course of action to fruition. Her father and I enjoy the most cordial of relations, and my prospects here in Boston are most excellent. That, combined with the not-insubstantial income bestowed upon us by our dear departed father, should be adequate to convince squire Van Horn that I can provide suitably for his beloved daughter.

As to Abigail’s willingness to wed, of that there can be no doubt. I began to give her suggestions with this regard towards the end of our daily visitation just yesterday.

“You would enjoy becoming my wife, would you not, my sweet Abigail?”

“Whatever do you mean, Edward? I am your wife.”

“Quite right, my dear. You know, however, that when you leave here, you will not remember being my wife. You will feel a strong desire to be with me, though, and will be thinking how much you would like to marry me. When I ask your father for your hand, you will so happy. Do you understand, my lovely Abigail?”

“I understand, my husband. I will do as you wish. I will always do anything you desire, dear Edward.”

“Very good, my Abigail. I am most pleased with you.”

As you can see, dear Michael, she responds to me so readily. I anticipate a wedding in the fall, at which I hope you shall honor me as my best man. A life of wedded bliss will follow, a life of which I have had a sweet taste in the last week. I hope that I have your blessing my brother, and that you shall ever remain my closest and dearest relation and friend.

Forever your loyal and devoted brother,

Edward

With a sigh, Janey set the letters down. “What a wonderful story. I wonder how many others there are like this in my family’s history? And are any more of them documented? Mother may be scared to talk to Grandma, but maybe I could talk to her. If I promised not to reveal her story, but only my own, I don’t imagine that Mom would mind.” Lost in her ponderings, Janey picked up the first of the letters and began to re-read.