The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I barely had the time to be nervous, for the guests were arriving faster than I could keep track of them. My brother Joseph had flown in first thing that morning, but we barely had any time to talk.

Gina and her family arrived several hours later. Zelasha and Anna had taken her sister away to do bridesmaid stuff, leaving me with a bewildered husband and two kids. Fortunately, Francine had volunteered to help babysit.

Zelasha’s father was happily surprised to meet Anna’s parents. It turned out that—aside from the occasional Christmas card—the Masons hadn’t spoken to the Harrisons since Zelasha’s mother had died, nigh on twenty years ago. I did my best to mediate, but it was really Anna who brought the two families together. She showed up to assure me that all was going well with the bridal party, and charmed her uncle in no time.

I didn’t realize how much I had been dreading the next encounter until I was in the middle of it. I’d run off to the bathroom, and on my way back to the wedding pavilion had an unpleasant surprise.

“Nicholas?” came a familiar thundering voice.

Oh, for heaven’s sake, I thought. “Father, if you’ve come to—”

“I apologize,” he said.

The world stopped cold.

I stared at him in disbelief. I couldn’t remember a single time I’d ever heard him say those words in my entire life.

“I had a talk with your fiancee’s stepmother,” he said, a little more quietly. Of course, quiet for him meant that everyone within shouting distance could hear, just no longer everyone within a ten mile radius. On the other hand, he’d referred to Zelasha as my fiancee. Things were looking up.

“I could not believe I was talking to a Christian woman,” my father continued. “I hate to speak ill of another of God’s children, but I have rarely seen such selfishness in a parent.” Then, incredibly, he began talking in a volume almost befitting a normal person. “I realized that perhaps I had also been acting in a manner unfitting an upstanding man.”

“You did?”

A bit of the defensive belligerence I’d known all my life shone in his blue eyes, but—to my shock—the man fought it down. “Yes, Nicholas, I did,” he said. “For a woman to have such resentment of a daughter—and I thought that my delivery might have made my own opinions seem similarly—improper.”

Since I didn’t care what he thought, I saw no reason why I shouldn’t enjoy this. “Only improper?” I asked.

“Nicholas, son,” my father rumbled. “I remembered what Saint Paul says about matrimony, and realized it would be far better for you and your fiancee to live as God intended than to live in sin. You should get married, son, and who you want to marry is your decision.”

I continued to gaze at him, waiting for the conditional. To my surprise, it didn’t come.

“I would be honored,” my father finished, “if my wife and I could attend your wedding.”

I couldn’t stop myself from smiling, and extended my hand. With his monster-truck grip, my father shook it.

We started walking back towards the stage. After a moment of awkward silence, I asked, “So... how about them Dodgers?”

The sunlight shimmered through the leaves of the trees above us. My father’s new wife had turned up, looking lost—but Clancy, eager to redeem himself, had stepped up to the plate as an unofficial usher. The drummer quickly settled her next to her husband.

Finally, the officiant walked to the arbor, followed by myself, Joseph, Stewart, Gerald, and Scarlett. The tall Southerner had done her best to fit in: she was wearing an elegant sable gown with a maroon corset. I was wearing a white poet’s shirt, a black leather vest, and sable pants. I prayed I didn’t look too ridiculous.

We stood around for a few minutes, laughing—then the harpist started playing, and I suddenly remembered what I was doing. Lord, I was getting married. Please, I prayed, don’t let me mess this up! The last thing I needed was for Megan to turn up—or to get struck by lightning!

The bridesmaids walked down the aisle, each one carrying a bouquet. Emily came first, followed by Anna, Amanda, and finally Gina.

Finally, Zelasha and her father turned the corner, and my heart leaped into my throat.

My fiancee was as gorgeous and daring as she’d always been. She was wearing a gleaming white gown that fell all the way down to her feet; it was followed by a short train. The white silk hugged her lovely hips with an almost-playful sensuality, one that radiated charm and charisma. The gown itself was full of silver sequins and sparkled in the light. Elegant sleeves floated around her wrists. One hand touched her father’s arm; the other held a bouquet of white roses with an occasional red blossom within. There was not even a hint of pink, and the red stood out like a splash of blood. I realized in surprise that the leaves had been dyed black. A jet-black corset with white laces wrapped around her torso; her breasts and shoulders were flattered by white lace. Her face was veiled; a teasing gust of wind touched her back, and I could see her long red hair, unbound, tumbling elegantly down her back. Other than the red roses hidden among the white blossoms, her hair was the only color—all else was black or white. Our eyes met, and she grinned. My heart was thudding so hard I could have counted the seconds it took her to join me in front of the officiant—and as we turned to each other, I could see her crooked smile and the gleam in her eyes.

“Dearly beloved,” the minister stated, “we are gathered here today to bless the union of Nicholas and Colleen.”

“A toast!” Duncan cried some time later, his resonant voice echoing through the grove. “To Nick and Zelasha—the most remarkable couple at the Faire!”

The assembly cheered. Zelasha and I clinked glasses, and downed another draught of ale.

“Another few toasts like this,” she whispered to me, “and I’ll be too drunk to dance!”

I’d been thinking the same thing. “We’ll hold each other up if we have to,” I told her with a grin.

“When my brother called me up and told me he was getting married,” Joseph announced, “my first thought was—who could possibly want to spend her life putting up with him?”

There were chuckles, and Zelasha shot me an evil smile.

“Then he explained to me that he’d managed to reconnect with someone he’d known in college,” my brother continued. “Now that I’ve seen them together, I realize my question should have been: how did those two manage to live without each other for so long?”

More laughs.

Joseph raised his glass. “Here’s to you both,” he said.

Another toast. I was definitely getting tipsy.

Kaitlin stood, and the rest of the Gypsy Songbirds followed her lead. “Here’s to Zelasha, the first of us to get married,” she proclaimed.

“And hopefully not the last!” Francine piped up.

“One, two, three...” Rissa said softly, and the singers began the lively tune of “Mairi’s Wedding.” Soon, everyone was dancing—and Zelasha and I, laughing and holding hands, joined them on the dance floor.

Zelasha and I danced together for several songs. Eventually, I was obliged to turn her over to her father.

For a while we entertained different partners. Cleo and I had a fun romp, and then I ended up twirling Jiliana.

“I see you and Lawrence have been dancing together a lot,” I commented.

The British Songbird blushed. “Yes, and we’re going to keep seeing each other when the season ends,” she admitted, squeezing my hand.

“That’s great!” I congratulated her.

She smiled shyly. “Thanks.”

So the timid British woman had finally told Lawrence how she felt. I wondered how she’d summoned up the courage.

The song came to an end, and we switched partners. I glanced around for Zelasha, but saw Prentice hand her off to Gerald. I turned, and found myself face-to face with Miss Scarlett.

I bowed, offering her my hand, and the lovely hypnotist took it with a smile. I drew her into my arms as the musicians began another song—and we promptly stepped on each others’ feet as we both tried to lead.

Scarlett and I held onto each other, stumbling and laughing. As we smiled at each other—we were the same height—I suddenly wondered how the hell I’d gotten here. I’d run across the hypnodomme’s website years ago, listened appreciatively to her mp3’s, lost myself in the dreamy recordings of her voice—and here I was, dancing with her on my wedding day.

“Sorry,” I remembered to say.

“S’alright,” Miss Scarlett said in her soft Southern purr. “Let’s try that over.” Her knowing brown eyes looked confidently at me as we found the rhythm together.

“I know you and Zelasha will cherish your life together,” she said, eyes twinkling. “I’m so happy for you both.”

“It means a lot to me that you and Emily are here,” I told her honestly.

The hypnodomme smiled mysteriously. “That reminds me, I think Zelasha has a surprise for you.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“She might have mentioned something at the bachelorette party,” Miss Scarlett teased.

“I suppose that’s true,” I said slowly. “What DID you ladies do at the bachelorette party before you joined us?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Scarlett said with a wink. I started to reply, but the song ended, and the Southern belle kissed my cheek before stepping away to another partner.

For the next song, I danced with Kaitlin, who happily confessed that she and Duncan would probably be moving in together this autumn.

“I’m so glad to hear it,” I told her honestly. Watching those two tiptoe around each other for several weeks had been aggravating. “Just don’t mention it to my father!”

Kait laughed. “I heard about his audition for the Puritans,” she told me. “I’ll be discreet!”

As the song ended, we both glanced around. On the other side of the grove were Zelasha and Duncan, and Kaitlin hurried over to her boyfriend. For a brief moment I wondered if my bride and I should dance with a few other partners, but our eyes met, and she beckoned to me with her stare and a tiny toss of her head. With a grin, I went over to her. How could I resist that look?

The next song started, and we danced, easily fitting into each other’s arms. “Miss me?” the redhead asked.

I shrugged. “I just got the idea that you and I should be dancing today. Not sure why.”

“You blockhead,” Zelasha laughed. “Look at me, Nick. You’re under my spell.”

I was suddenly, powerfully turned on. I could feel myself getting hard. No, I was already hard. There I was, dancing with the woman I loved on our wedding day, and I was going to make us both laughingstocks. But she was so maddeningly gorgeous and sexy! What the devil was going on?

Her lapis lazuli eyes glinted. “You’re under my spell,” she repeated impishly. She was right. My body had responded to her. She was a witch, and I was bound to her. I couldn’t help it; I wanted her so badly. She’d captured my soul and had wrapped me around her finger. My body was hers to play with. I was hard, pressing uncomfortably against my pants...

“You’re under my spell,” she said again. I looked into her dazzling green eyes, the eyes of a witch, the woman who had gotten inside my head and made me completely hers. I was painfully aroused, and wanted nothing more to rip off her wedding gown and make love to her on the grass. My body was responding to her, and hearing her say that was so marvelously sexy.

Why am I thinking all this stuff, I wondered. I’m not submissive. Well, Zelasha and I took turns...

But we’re in public, for heaven’s sake. Taking a deep breath, I ducked off the dance floor into a corner, adjusted myself, then returned.

The redhead stood there smiling like she was the funniest comedian in the world. I took her in my arms again, and we danced close. Her hips swayed deliciously as they pressed against my own. I could feel her body through our clothes... damn it, she knew.

I twirled her. “What are you doing to me?” I asked.

“Well, I do have you hypnotized,” Zelasha said with a grin. “Are you suuuure you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me?”

I gave her a dirty look, then kissed her. “Yes,” I told her. “But what did you do?”

“What, you mean about you being under my spell?” she teased, swishing her wonderful hips against me again. Dammit, it felt so good, I was afraid for a moment I’d ruin my clothes.

“Yes,” I said patiently. “But—when?”

Zelasha grinned and touched my nose. “Remember.”

It had been last night. We had returned to our tent after a small party with Duncan and Kaitlin, but as soon as we were inside, Zelasha had taken my hand.

“I want to hypnotize you,” my fiancee had said.

“What makes you think of this now?”

Zelasha had grinned her sexy, crooked smile. “Do you trust me, Nick?”

“What is this about?”

She’d gazed at me, smiling, and absently gathered a lock of hair and let it fall over her shoulder. Her crimson-red tresses tumbled over her generous curves. She was so sexy when she used that sultry come-hither stare...

“Trust me,” she had urged.

What was she up to? What did she want?

Well, there was one way to find out. “I trust you,” I had told her.

“Look into my eyes,” my fiancee had said without missing a beat. “Look deep into my eyes. Looking into my eyes and listening to my voice makes you so relaxed and comfortable. You trust me completely, and when I talk this way it’s easy for you to follow my words, follow my directions guiding you down into trance. Look into my eyes and let your breathing become easy and regular. Look into my eyes and focus completely on me. Completely on me.”

I loved it when Zelasha and I would stare into each other’s eyes and enjoy the other’s presence and desire. I knew the redhead did too—her lapis lazuli pools were full of mischief and lust.

“Look into my eyes and relax,” she continued. “Your muscles become loose, and limp, and heavy. You are focused on me, and that makes you relaxed. We feel completely comfortable with each other, and that relaxes you too. I love you, and being with me relaxes you completely. Look into my eyes, and know that you trust me. Listen to my voice, and know that you trust me.

“And when I say the word sleep, your eyes will close and your body will relax completely. Three, two, one, sleep. That’s right, my love... sleep. Wonderful... now sleep deeper, ten times deeper, fifty times deeper, sleep.”

I had drifted in darkness. My only anchor—my only reality—was the sensual voice of the woman I loved. I trusted her; everything she told me was true.

“And now that you’re deep asleep, I’m binding you to me,” Zelasha had murmured, her sensual voice close to my ear. “You’re hypnotized, and helpless. I’ve hypnotized you, Nick. You looked into my eyes, even though you knew I would put you in a trance. You let me hypnotize you, and I’m in control. I speak directly to your unconscious mind. Your unconscious mind trusts me and obeys me. I choose when you sleep, and I choose when you wake.

“And now you’re in a trance... you’re asleep, and hypnotized, and helpless. But what you didn’t know is that I am a witch as well as a hypnotist.”

Her hands had caressed my face. “And now that you’re in a trance, and you can’t resist me, I’m casting a spell over you, a spell to bind you forever. You’re in a hypnotic trance, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me from casting my spell over you. You’re asleep and helpless... you can’t stop me from mixing the potion, from sprinkling it over you. You can smell the sweet aroma of my magic potion. You breathe it in through your nostrils... your sleeping mind is saturated with the aroma. I’m binding you in my spell as you sleep... you hear me whispering the magic words. You’re bewitched... you’re in my power... you must obey me. You can’t resist my spell—it is too powerful.

“And now it’s done. You lay here, eyes closed, limp and relaxed, hypnotized and asleep, unable to stop me, unaware even that I cast a spell on you. But you feel the spell on you, Nick, you feel my control, you know you’ve been spellbound.

“And from now on, when you hear me say the words ‘you’re under my spell,’ you will want me. Whenever I say the words ‘you’re under my spell,’ you will get hard. You will get turned on when I tell you you’re under my spell. You will get so aroused, so turned on, you can’t help it. You will realize that I have bewitched you. Your body will respond to my spell whether you want it to or not. Whenever I call to you by telling you you’re under my spell, you will want me. You will get hard for me. You will get turned on, and you can’t help it.

“In a moment, I will count to three. And when I count to three, you will wake—but you will not remember this conversation. You will forget this conversation completely. You won’t remember being hypnotized. You won’t even remember that we talked about hypnosis tonight. You will forget...”

I stared at her as the song ended. This was preposterous. Zelasha was a sexy hypnotist, but she couldn’t do magic—because there’s no such thing.

She grinned up at me. “So, you like being under my spell?” she whispered, low so only I could hear.

Ohhh. Owww. Dammit, could I possibly get any more stiff? But we kept on dancing, and I dipped her into a kiss. “Well, I am looking forward to tonight!” I told her.

The redhead tittered. “I can’t wait until we get to Hawaii!”

The next song began. I bowed to her, she curtseyed, and we returned to each other’s arms.

She smiled impishly. “So, do you want to hear more about being under my- ”

I kissed her, hard, and she laughed. “Are you trying to say you want me?”

“You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever met,” I told her. “And you’re driving me crazy.”

“Good,” she said, and swayed her hips against mine. “You’re under—”

I kissed her again. Her arms went around my neck, and we kissed some more, lovingly and sensually.

Well, my mind knew I wasn’t really under a spell, but my body hadn’t figured that out yet. And we’d just been married. What had I got myself into?

“I’ll behave,” she promised. Zelasha smiled up at me, her sexy green eyes shining with lust and mirth. And I knew there was only one answer to that question: I’d gotten exactly what I wanted.