The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Layla danced as though the music had taken over her soul. Her half-naked body gleamed with sweat as she writhed in time with the beat. Joe watched, rapt, as she danced in front of him.

The little black dress silently landed on the carpet, and Layla stepped out of the crumpled pile. It took a couple of attempts, as the heels of Layla’s stilettos snagged on the dress a little, but she didn’t let that spoil her rhythm. She turned away, arching her back to emphasize her exquisite derriere as she swayed from side to side.

Apart from the shoes and a small pair of black lace panties, she was now naked, and she stepped closer to her prey. Joe loved it when she did this. When she stepped closer to him and pressed her voluptuous breasts into his face. The moment when he could breathe her intoxicating scent was almost the best part of the whole experience. Almost, but not quite.

As the music continued, she crouched down in front of him, putting herself between his legs. Joe knew where this was going, and sighed a little in anticipation. Layla continued, her head getting closer and closer to Joe’s erection, which was making itself clearer through his trousers. Teasingly, Layla nuzzled against his cock, her mouth pressing against it through the fabric. “I wanna see it,” She purred, “I wanna see how much you want me.”

With her expertly manicured fingers, she reached across and started pulling at his fly, slowly undoing his zip. As his member saw light for the first time that evening, Layla gasped “My, you’re a big boy aren’t you”, and a mischievous smile started to spread across her face. She climbed on top of him, her unclad pussy hovering over his erection.

In the background the music changed. The smile spread even further across Layla’s face as she leant and whispered to him “Would you like another?”

“Wha... Oh. No. I’d better not.” As the sudden realisation of his situation hit Joe, he remembered that he’d already spent more than he should. “That was great though.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it sugar.” Her tone had definitely changed as she climbed off of his and started to get dressed, though as a lap dancer, this didn’t take too long. She kept a wary eye on him as he redid his zip, and reached into his jacket for his wallet. He was a good regular customer (every month she thought), but experience had taught her to be careful with all clients. She didn’t want him running off, or worse, getting violent.

Joe had no plans in that direction. Instead, he reached into his wallet and pulled out three twenty pound notes, leaving just the one for a drink and his taxi home. “That was three wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, hun. You know, if you wanted to stay for a while more, you can use your credit card.” Ever the saleswoman, she wasn’t about to just let him walk out without getting as much as she could.

“No. Thanks, though.” Joe had a rule about using his credit cards in strip clubs, namely: don’t. He didn’t want his details in some seedy company’s database, and besides he didn’t want to lose control over how much he spent. He made his excuses, and left the club to get a taxi home.

“So come on then!” Monica said as she sat down, “Dish!”

“There’s nothing to tell, Mon, really.” Jane lied, flushed with embarrassment even talking about it, “I’ve just been having a lot of these dreams recently. You know. About…”

“I can guess,” Monica grinned, “Anyone in particular?”

“Yes… No… I mean… Yes, it is someone, but I don’t know who it is.” Jane stared at her latte, regretting even mentioning it to her friend. Mind, Monica knew how to extract all of her secrets. She could have worked for the CIA, that woman.

“So it is someone you know then? Can you figure out who it is from what you saw? Maybe we can narrow it down for you. Tall, short, muscly?” Monica grabbed Jane’s arm. “Well endowed?”

“And how would that help us narrow it down?” Jane retorted.

“Well, Dr Connor’s got a bit of a reputation in that department, from what I hear.”

“From what you hear? I’m surprised you don’t have a camera in the mens’ locker room!”

“Well…” Monica took a sip of her drink. “I did try, but they found it!”

They both laughed. Possibly not too appropriate in the hospital cafeteria, surrounded by worried relatives and sick patients, but then nurses’ humour could get quite raucous at times. Besides, it was nothing compared to what they talked about in the pub after work.

“Come on then! Details! Hair colour, height, weight, distinguishing features! We’ve got a mystery to solve!”

“Are you sure you didn’t want to be a detective? You know, I think a future in law-enforcement would suit you.”

“Stop trying to change the subject! Come on, J, your dream hubby could be in this hospital right now! I mean, how long has it been since you last had sex for real, with someone else? Six months? A year?”

Jane stayed silent. Monica probably kept track of her sex life more than she did.

“I’m only trying to help you, you know. I don’t want you turning into crazy cat lady” Monica grinned. “Any more than you have already, that is!”

“I’m not that old, you know! And I don’t have any cats!”

“Yet.” Monica finished her drink. She looked at her watch. “Anyway, I’d better get back. We’ve got rounds in ten minutes and I need to sort out Miss Bechdel’s tests beforehand.”

“You go ahead. I’ll join you in a few minutes.” Jane headed for the toilets.

“OK. Oh, and, Jane…?”

“Yes?”

“Miaow!” Monica chuckled evilly as she headed back to the ward.

The comforting privacy of the cubicle settled Jane’s mind in one respect: at least Monica’s interrogation was over, for now at least. Jane knew Monica wouldn’t let it die, but she wouldn’t bring it up in the ward, surrounded as they were with colleagues and patients.

Even thinking about the dream, though, had put Jane on edge. Again! The dreams were bad enough. With increasing frequency they were leaving her frustrated and on-edge. But it didn’t stop there. Even thinking about the mystery man, and the way she felt around him was enough to leave her yearning.

The dreams had started a few months ago. Jane had written them off at first as the results of a George Clooney film and too much wine. A dreamt night of passion with an unknown, unseen man could easily have stemmed from thoughts of being Scarlet Johannson or Angelina Jolie, or whoever it was.

They’d started innocently enough, too. If you count a night of ravishment and unbridled passion as innocent. Just being with that man had been enough to leave Jane as putty in his hands, and Mystery Man had taken full advantage of that… and her. He’d given her satisfaction she never even knew existed.

The satisfaction, however, had been short-lived. As had the innocence. The passion was still there, but it wasn’t… enough. The sex had become more intense, slowly shifting from frolics in a four-poster to vigorous pounding at her lover’s whim. Mystery Man had become more and demanding at the same time; morphing from a romantic cinema god who worshipped the ground she walked on to a sexual tyrant who commanded favours from his woman.

The worst thing, though, was Jane’s response to this transformation. She should have been repulsed by this new aspect of Mystery Man’s imagined personality. She was a woman of the world after all. This is the 21st century for crying out loud. But she had not only accepted this change. It was like she had driven it. The more demanding he came; the harder he was with her, the more it felt right. Mystery Man wasn’t wrestling for control of a relationship. She, Jane Milligan was freely giving it away. And she was desperate to do more.

Jane sat in solitude in the cubicle, a tear running down her face and her hand moving inexorably towards her crotch. There was only one way this was going to end now, and she knew it. Slipping her hand into her knickers, she gasped as her own touch electrified her senses. The cubicle melted away as echoes of the dream filled her thoughts.

“Come here,” Mystery Man demanded, “On your knees.”

“Y… Y… Yes.” Try as she might, Jane couldn’t resist Mystery Man’s magnetic pull. A voice in her mind screamed at her to slap him, yell at him or just walk out of the door. Another voice, warning her to obey or face a lifetime without happiness, was much quieter, but much more insistent. She barely even felt herself falling to her knees: one moment she was standing, and the next she was on the floor, kneeling. But that didn’t matter. It just felt right.

“Yes… What?”

“Yes… Master.”

“Mixed” would be the kindest way to define Joe’s life over the past couple of years. “Steadily downwards” would probably be more accurate. Since his girlfriend left him, he wasn’t getting much in the way of companionship. Or sex for that matter, hence the regular visits to the lap dancing club. He did enjoy Layla though. She was part of the reason he kept going, despite the godawful music in there.

There was also the lack of mental stimulation at work, at least since his recent demotion. He was still on the same money (although he didn’t know why), but his duties had been seriously curtailed. Instead of designing and implementing the systems for uploading television signals to the satellite, he was now relegated to maintaining the machinery, and keeping an eye on the feed. The most taxing part of his days generally involved deciding what to get for his lunch. He kept an eye on proceedings within the company though, just to keep his mind active between pressing ctrl-alt-delete on the servers.

It was an evening like most others. Joe was in his favourite bar: a small place in the city centre called Oscar’s. He could be found in there most days after work, nursing a pint of real ale or one of Oscar’s huge collection of malt whiskies, depending on his mood. This particular night though, he was drinking one of the beers and watching the match on the TV above the bar. He didn’t notice the man walking up behind him.

“Barkeep! “ The stranger shouted enthusiastically, his loud American accent booming around the bar. ”Two doubles of that Jura up there please! One for me and one for my good friend over here!”

“Who...?” Joe turned around to see his benefactor. “Bloody hell! Felix! I haven’t seen you in years! How are you? What are you up to?”

“I’m good, thanks. Still working in the States. Where are you now?”

“I work for a firm called Sat Tech. Just round the corner from here. I didn’t quite make it to the Ol’ U S of A”

“I’ll bet you’re nerding it up here though. What technical wizardry do they get up to, over there then?”

“Basically technical support for satellite TV, but at the distribution end. We send the signals up there.”

“So are you the one to speak to about free adult channels then?” He laughed and pulled out a note from his wallet as the bartender served them their drinks. “Now, mate. Fill me in on the last seven years!”

The next couple of hours were spent reminiscing about old times. Joe and Felix had shared a house at uni a few years back. Joe had obviously done electronics. Felix had done economics, and apparently half the female population of the university. They had been good friends, and their house had partaken in all manner of drunken nights out, along with the odd bar fight. But Felix had gone to work in the States, and they lost touch soon after that.

As the night wore on, the beer gave way completely to whisky, and the two were effectively on a tasting session. It had to be said, though, that in Joe’s state he wasn’t really tasting anything. Felix on the other hand, seemed completely in control.

All of a sudden the laughter went from Felix’s face. “Look, mate. I need to have a chat with you, but not here. Can we go back to your place?”

“Why? You haven’t gone all… You know. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Whatever floats your boat I say! I’m not that way inclined though.”

“No!” Felix spluttered. “I don’t want to fuck you! I’m not gay! I…”

“Methinks you doth protest too much!” Joe interrupted. “I’m just kidding. The number of women you brought back to the flat… well let’s just say that if you turned the whole universe may need to rebalance! I tell you what. I’ve got a good bottle of single malt and a chess set back at the house. It’ll be just like back in the uni days, except maybe the lack of recreational drugs and psychotic housemates.”

Back at Joes place, the chess set and whisky were duly brought out of their respective cupboards. Joe had sobered up a bit by now, helped by a bit of supper, and was intrigued about what Felix had to say. “So... What did you want to talk to me about?”

Felix put the glass down and leaned forward. “I’m working with a small group at the moment, and we have a... a proposition for you.”

“Go on. No seducing me though.” Joe smiled mockingly. “I could never resist your charms.”

“Fuck off, I’m serious.”

“Sure you are.”

“Before I start, I need your full discretion.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

“No. I mean it. Full discretion.”

“Yes. Full discretion!” Joe smiled. “I swear myself to secrecy! And that’s a full pinky swear an’ everything! Isn’t that what you Yanks call it?”

“I mean it! And I’m not a Yank! I just live there now!”

“OK, OK! I won’t say anything! I probably won’t remember it tomorrow, anyway… Yank.”

“Arsehole. “Felix laughed briefly, returning quickly to his more serious state. “Have you heard of subliminal advertising?”

“What like ‘You are feeling sleepy. Drink Coke’ and ‘Go get a MacDonalds’? Isn’t it an urban myth, along with alligators in the sewers and gangs who steal your kidneys?”

“Yeah that’ll be the one. Not an urban myth though. Back in the fifties and sixties they tried it in a few movie theatres, but didn’t have much success with it. Some, but not much. Like everything else they did at that time, they made a ham-fisted attempt at it. The project got pulled, largely because of other events at the time, and buried. The powers that be decided to make it clear that the project was a failure, to stop anyone else following their tracks. They also covered themselves with the ‘buy Coke’ shit. They hadn’t even mentioned Coke in their experiments, but anybody researching later could see that the sales never went up”

“Clever. Go on.”

“They weren’t all stupid. So the problem with it was that it wasn’t 100 percent effective. It wasn’t even 50%. They had a minor success, and weren’t even sure that the results were beyond the realm of statistical probability. For the government, that wasn’t enough. They wanted 100 percent.”

“How were they sure that it worked at all?”

“The results suggested that it worked, but they didn’t prove it. Anyway, they scrapped the programme and the whole thing went away. Until the seventies.”

“What happened then?”

“I’m getting to that. In the seventies an American scientist teamed up with a corporation to do a large scale experiment in a remote village miles away from anywhere. He had developed a drug that apparently increased the effectiveness of subliminals to 100 percent, or at least somewhere close. They put the drug in the water supply and a bunch of consumer products, and took over the TV transmissions and billboards to distribute the advertising. It worked a treat for a while, but there were side effects. Plus the scientist turned out to be a bit of a repressed perv and went to town up there. The project got noticed by the wrong people. The scientist got killed and the corporation took a nose dive. The head of the company also ended up going missing, presumed dead or in some deep dark government hole.”

“If that had happened, wouldn’t the government have started back up with it.”

“By the time the whole thing blew over, there was no evidence that subliminals were ever involved. Presumably whoever rumbled them was concerned about the technology getting into the wrong hands. The scientist and the corporation had covered their tracks pretty well, in case they got caught. So almost all traces of the experiment, the drug and the subliminals had gone.”

“Almost?”

“Yeah. Once the company had gone bust, all of its assets were bought out, including the scientist’s notes and recordings. They were hidden well, so it was almost by accident they were ever found. Once they were found, though, they made their way onto my desk.”

“That’s lucky!”

“Not particularly. As I said, I’ve been over in the States since uni. I’ve been working with a few companies on defence contracts. Top secret and fairly freaky stuff.” Felix laughed. “You wanna know why I went bald?”

“Oh yeah, that top secret balding agent you developed. I remember it well!”

“Fuck off! It was something I was working on though! Come on. Whisky me up!”

“There you go. So I take it you’re now part of some huge conspiracy to bring subliminal advertising back to the world and become some sort of evil dictator? Is it something like that? Make a few billion pounds—sorry dollars—and have the world do your bidding?”

“Something like that. It’s not huge though. The number of people who know about this is barely into double figures. My, erm, employers think I’m working on other projects, which is sort of true.”

“Go on.”

“No. I’m leaving them out of this. As I said, the scientist hid his work well, so even my lot didn’t know what they had. I made sure of it. I also made sure they would never find out. So it’s just the few of us.”

“The few of us doing what? Come on, don’t leave me hanging like this!”

“There is a few of us with a plan for bringing the subliminals back in. We had to be a bit clever about it though. For one thing, the previous drug had side effects which firstly caused problems, and secondly could give the game away. I don’t want to go into it, but they were serious. So we had to develop a new version of this without the side effects.”

“It’s a shame you didn’t have Sam working with you. Remember, Sam Bryant? He was studying neurochemistry back at uni wasn’t he?”

“Indeed he was, He is. He’s still at uni actually, only now he’s a researcher. It wasn’t too hard to get him on side. We got him to do the development, using the uni’s research facilities as a cover. It’s taken us about five years to perfect the new drug. He added an extra step too: to reinforce the subliminals and really hammer things home, he has the subjects hypnotise themselves. I tell you, the work he’s done is fucking fantastic. He’s a real genius that man.”

“Yeah I remember. He made us look like idiots in comparison. Couldn’t take his tequila slammers though” Joe grinned as he remembered one of their nights out from the uni days.

“Oh I’d forgotten about that. And neither could you, if I remember correctly.”

“True. True. But it was the lime that made me sick!”

“Ha! Was it also the lime that wrecked your chances with Lucy that night?”

“Touche!”

“Indeed.”

“So what do you need me for?”

“OK. So I’ve got the drug sorted out. I’ve even sorted out a method of delivery for it. The next part is the subliminals. We need to get them to as many people as possible, but without anyone finding out and getting us locked up until the end of time. There’s a couple of ways we can do this: add something to the feed of every computer, television, radio , newspaper, magazine, poster or whatever out there, or get them all to watch one large event, which we’re controlling. Number two would be putting all our eggs in one basket, so to speak, so we’re going with the saturation coverage.”

“How are you doing that? You’ll need to have people in every outlet going!”

“Exactly. I’ve got people in almost all the ISPs, newspapers and ad agencies going. They don’t exactly know it yet, though, if you know what I mean.” grinned Felix “Anyway. You’ve probably guessed but I’m after someone who can sort out the Sat-Tech feed for me.”

“I see. And the other feeds?”

“My problem. What I need from you is something to add to the feed, along with a delivery method. We add something to hook up to Sat Techs gear that allows us to add whatever images, text or sound we like to the signal sent up to the satellite. You’re obviously in the best place for that. I also want you to work together with the other audio visual guys, the internet, cable tv etc, so that if there’s a problem on one, we’ve learned how to deal with it for the others.”

“Okay. So you’ve added some weird chemical to the water supply that makes people susceptible to these subliminals. Then you’ve added subliminals to everything you can get your hands on. What’s next in this crazy scheme of yours?”

“What’s crazy about it?”

“Using subliminal advertising and hypnosis to take over the world? There does seem to be something a bit bond-villainy about it.”

“I never said anything about taking over the world. That would raise far too many red flags. I don’t fancy spending the rest of my life in an eight by ten cell thank you very much. No I just want to be able to use my own brand of special advertising to make a boat load of money and retire to a nice private island with a couple of dozen hula girls. Where’s the harm in that?”

“There’s still something of the Bond-villain in there though. Where is your base? A hollowed-out volcano somewhere in the Pacific?”

“Ah no. A yacht ten miles off Tahiti. Whisky me.”

“A fine choice. But you haven’t answered my question. What’s next?”

“Whisky first! You know that! Anyway, even with the chemicals, the subliminals aren’t fully effective. Well they are in their own way, but not very good on an individual basis. Plus they take weeks to start working, apparently. So we have stage three.”

“Go on…”

“We use the subliminals to convince people to try self-hypnosis. We give them reasons to want to try it: get fit, quit smoking, whatever. That’s just an amplification of their own desire for self-improvement. Then once we’ve got them to put themselves under, we’ve got a whole bag of tricks for implanting our own instructions. The chemical helps these stick better, apparently. Sam can explain it better than I can. It has the same effect as the subliminals, only on a more immediate basis and without relying on the tech.”

“Ah, so that’s how you get the women to sleep with you.”

“And much more besides, mate!”

Joe laughed. “Ah you sure you’re not a Bond villain? Anyway mate. We’re more than a little drunk, and I need some sleep. Either I’m getting older or you’re using that hypnosis shit on me. I know which one’s more likely! You’re welcome to sleep in the spare bedroom. Upstairs, second door on the left. Bathroom’s the first one. We can continue your diabolical scheme for world domination in the morning. Oh, and by the way…”

“What?”

“Checkmate in two moves.”

“Bastard! I mean. I let you win!”

“Now you’re in a nice comfortable chair, in a nice comfortable space. The only voice you hear will be your own, because you trust your own voice. You remember recording this, and you remember how safe and relaxing this recording is.”

Jane’s room basked in the pale green glow of her computer screen. Jane relaxed into her chair, reading the words as they came up on the screen in her most soothing voice. This was Jane’s third time recording a new self-hypnosis tape from Applied Awareness.

The idea was that the person Jane would trust the most was herself, and therefore she would be best placed to record the tape. They would supply the words (previewed beforehand) and the timing via their app, and she would provide her own voice. If there was anything she didn’t like, she just wouldn’t say it. Simple, really! She could then play the recording back to herself at her leisure.

“I want you to lie back and relax even deeper. Concentrate only on the sound of your own voice, letting the sound of your own voice wash over you. You trust your own voice, your own desires. Let it relax you. Let it reassure and soothe you. Let it guide you into a state of complete relaxation, knowing your own voice can’t hurt you. Breathe deeply now, as you take in the sound of your own voice and relax even more. Your own voice fills you with relaxation. Breathe in through your nose… and out through your mouth. In… Out… In… Out…”

The first time Jane had done this, she had needed to keep herself from laughing. This time, however, she was fully engrossed. The previous recordings had worked wonders: her self-confidence was up, as was her motivation to keep fit and healthy. She now jogged every day, rather than just sometimes.

The feeling of emptiness, of yearning for some controlling master, hadn’t subsided. Neither had her dreams. If anything they had intensified. But the hypnosis was helping her deal with it better, and accept those dreams as part of her psyche. She was also beginning to accept that the only way to exorcise those dreams might be to experience something like them in real life. The idea had excited her, she had to admit.

“I am going to begin to count down, from ten to zero. And as I do, I want you to count down with me. Listening to the sound of your own voice, and joining it. Concentrating totally on your own voice, we count down together.”

With each sentence, Jane paused, just as the computer prompted. The program knew what she was saying and how fast she was saying it, so it could guide her through the process. The sophistication of their voice recognition software was amazing, and apparently helped to maximise the efficacy of their recordings. Another of their unique selling points.

“Ten. Your eyelids are beginning to feel heavy now, but that’s OK. Your tired eyes want to close. You can trust your own voice and let them close. Your own voice is you. You can switch this off at any time. There is only your own voice here. You’re in a warm, safe place.”

Even through just saying it, Jane’s eyelids began to droop. She could feel herself wanting to close them, but knew she had to remain awake. The instructions had told her to be aware of this, but if she did fall asleep it would be OK. The recording would stop, and she would awake naturally from her slumber.

“Nine. You can feel every muscle in your body dissolving into relaxation, from your head to the tips of your toes. Let all that tension go, and allow your body to slide into blissful relaxation.”

Jane snuggled deeper into her chair. It was so tempting to just follow her own instructions and relax, but she wanted to finish the recording in one session. Last time, it had taken her three goes at it, and the program had insisted she start at the beginning each time, in order to get the rhythm of the whole thing right.

“Eight. The only sounds you can hear are your own deep breaths, and your own voice playing back to you. Concentrate on the sound of your own voice, and keep letting it wash over you as you become more and more relaxed.”

Jane knew this recording was going to work, it was affecting her now, and she hadn’t finished making it! She blinked a few times, trying to wake herself up without changing the level of her voice.

“Seven. Going deeper. Let your own voice draw you in. Giving your own voice permission to guide you deeper and deeper into relaxation. Six. Drifting on the sound of your own voice. So relaxed now. Waves of relaxation lapping over your body like a warm sea. Five. Your own voice is the only sound. Soothing you. Relaxing you. Guiding you. Helping you into deeper and deeper relaxation.”

Jane was hanging on now, trying to remain lucid. The room had long since melted away, leaving only the words on the screen in front of her. This chair was too comfortable, she thought. She would have to change it next time. So comfortable and relaxing…

“Four. Handing control to the sound of your own voice. So relaxed. Just let the sound of your voice guide you, control you, lead you into further relaxation.

“Three. Your voice controls you now. You trust your own voice. You allow yourself to slip deeper and deeper into your own voice. Two. Give yourself up completely to your own voice. So relaxed. So weak. So ready to obey your own voice.”

Just this side of asleep, Jane felt perfectly relaxed and at ease with herself. Even the concept of obedience to her voice hadn’t phased her.

“One. So deeply relaxed. Controlled totally by the sound of your own voice. Zero. Existing only to hear the sound of your own voice. So relaxed, you can’t move your limbs. Allowing your own voice to command you.”

“You know why you’re doing all this, don’t you? Listening to this tape… Hypnotising yourself.”

Jane sluggishly thought back to when she had first downloaded the program. The dreams becoming more frequent and intense, as was the empty feeling inside her. She wanted to know why, and more than anything she wanted the empty feeling to go away. In her mind, she knew that if she saw a shrink it would get back to the hospital, and her job would be in jeopardy. The program from Applied Awareness would allow her to treat herself, and her job would be safe.

This text had been provided by one of the techs at Applied Awareness. A really nice man, at least from the phone call anyway. He had put her completely at ease and she had told him in fine detail why she was doing all this. She had even surprised herself by how much she had told him, but he was so disarmingly friendly and understanding. He had responded by emailing her a personalised spiel to use, based on what she had told him. If this turned out well, she would have to thank him by email.

“Deep down you know what is causing that empty feeling.” The screen faded from pale green to a reddish hue. Barely noticing, Jane continued to read out loud as directed. “Your growing need to submit to your Master.”

“I want you to remember some of those fantasies you’ve been having recently. Fantasies of submitting: of giving yourself entirely to another. Let them just enter your mind, and take over your thoughts. Think about each time you dreamed of submission, and the feeling of deep, deep contentment. Think about those powerful men, Mr Allen from school, and how you had a crush on him. Doctor Greene from work, saving his patients through sheer will. So masterful. So dominant.”

“Think about that book you read, and how it made you feel. In every scene you imagined yourself as the helpless vixen, teasing your Master in one moment, obeying him the next. You created your own scenes in your mind. The helplessness felt so good, didn’t it? The freedom to submit entirely to his wishes. The sheer ecstacy of devoting yourself entirely to him. It felt better than even the best sex before your submission. Sex without submission feels hollow. Without complete and utter obedience, something is missing from your life. Even sex feels unfulfilling, next to the thought of your submission.”

“And yet, you still crave it. Sex is the only thing that comes close to submission. That feeling of someone else’s flesh next to your own is the only one that can fill the emptiness, even if it is for a short while.”

“So you will look at your current wardrobe. Your current clothing looks so conservative. So boring. Wearing more revealing clothing would help you find that sexual passion you need so much. Revealing your body will thrill you. The thought that men, especially your Master, are watching will excite you. You will imagine yourself giving yourself to your Master while wearing those skimpy clothes, and your need to submit to him will deepen further.”

“Think about your Master, waiting for you. Waiting to fulfil your submissive desires. Waiting to satisfy your needs for sex and surrender. You want to yield to him. You need to yield to him. To succumb to his will and obey his command, because that’s where true happiness lies. The need is growing within you. With every passing day, with every dream, with every fantasy, your submissive desires gain a further hold over you. Your need to submit is rising, and you crave your dominant master.”

“You want him to command you. To discipline you like in that book. The thought of it arouses you more than any man you’ve know before. You imagine scenarios where he takes your will, like in that book. Your need for your master grows with every scenario. Your Master is waiting for you to be ready for him. Only when you are ready to submit completely will he take his place and grant you the submission you so desire. You know the phrase he will say when you are ready.”

Without thinking, she whispered “I am your master.”

The screen changed again, this time to a light blue background. Again, Jane barely noticed, and continued her recital. “Deep down you know what is causing your empty feeling, and you want that knowledge to come to the surface. There’s no need to keep it buried any more. Just let those feelings rise to the surface of their own accord, and let them become clear in your thoughts. That’s it. Let those feelings float up through your subconscious, into your conscious thoughts.

Since the last screen change, Jane’s words had had no effect on her. Whereas the words in the green and red screens had profound effects in her mind, Jane had read the last set purely as though she was reading a script. Which she was, it had to be said.

“And once those feelings have floated up and become thoughts, then you can decide what you need to do.”

“Now we get to the other reason you’re doing this.”

Jane thought back to the other reason. It was simple enough: she wanted to keep fit. The jogging was doing its job but the drive to go out and get running was dwindling. Jane was proud of her figure, and wanted to keep it.

“You know that the running helps keep you in shape, don’t you?”

Jane paused to allow herself to answer.

“And you’re happy with the shape you’re in. Proud, even. Aren’t you?”

Again, she paused as the computer instructed.

“So what you need is motivation. The drive to go out running, even when you otherwise wouldn’t want to. And that is going to be the phrase “I want to stay fit.”

When you say this phrase to yourself, you will feel your resolve strengthen. Your motivation will bubble up to the surface and you will feel like going for a run. The urge will get stronger and stronger, and the wish to procrastinate will weaken.”

The screen faded to red again. “As you run, you will imagine yourself pleasing Master, and that will make you feel even better. You will also feel the urge to dress in skimpy running clothes, to impress your unseen Master, and show your submission to him.”

Returning to a blue screen. “It would be a good idea to do stretches in your back yard too, to improve your flexibility. On the lawn, in front of the tree will be fine, and will give you the privacy you need. You will buy yourself a workout DVD, one that specialises in stretching exercises, and watch it at least three times a week. It will be your guide when stretching in your yard.”

Red screen. “As with your running, you will imagine your Master watching you, and being pleased with your progress. He says that you will be ready for him soon. Again, to impress your Master, you will feel the urge to show your body. Firstly in your running gear, then in a bikini, and finally naked. The only person who would see you is your neighbour, Joe, and that wouldn’t be a bad thing anyway, would it?”

Blue screen. “You will feel safe and secure in your back yard, knowing that nobody can see you. It will allow you to relax and enjoy those exercises.”

Green screen. “Good. Now, remember how you felt as we counted down from ten to zero. You remember slipping into the state of total relaxation you’re in now. When you order yourself to ‘sleep’, you will find yourself counting down like just now, and like just now you will become more and more relaxed, until you are as relaxed as you are now.”

“Remember, this will only happen when you command yourself to sleep…” Red screen. “… Or when your Master commands you to sleep.” Green screen. “You will not slip back into this state just through mention of the word; it must be an explicit command, and it must be a command for you.”

“With every use of the sleep command, you will find yourself slipping into this state more easily and quickly. This will become second nature to you. You will grow accustomed to the sleep command, and happily surrender yourself to the sound of your own voice…” Red screen. “… Or that of your Master.”

Green screen. “So we’ve covered the empty feeling of yours, along with your desire and motivation for keeping fit. We’ve also covered a command to help you reach this state more easily. So we’re going to wake you up now. I’m going to count up from one to ten, and I want you to count with me. When you wake up you will feel refreshed, and able to take whatever life throws at you.”

“One… Two… Three… You’re beginning to awaken now. You can feel your limbs again, and move the tips of your fingers and toes.”

“Four… Five… Six… Your whole body slowly awakens. You can move your limbs now, and open your eyes.” Jane could feel her voice rising with each number, as though she was waking up herself.

“Seven… Eight… Feeling more and more awake. Have a stretch. Enjoy that feeling between asleep and awake as you gradually become more and more alert.”

“Nine… Almost fully awake and alert now.”

“Ten! Fully awake! Welcome back to the land of the living!” Jane joked to herself, even though it wasn’t on the screen. She had finally got through the entire recording without falling asleep herself, which was an achievement. Third time lucky, she reckoned, knowing that she had so nearly succumbed again. At least next time, with the sleep command, she would hopefully get straight into the main part of the spiel without having to do all of that counting down stuff. That should make things a lot easier.

She thought back through the things she had instructed herself in front of that green/blue screen. As well as the sleep command, there was the keep fit motivation. But the main thing was that empty feeling. She remembered telling her subconscious mind to bring the meaning of that empty feeling to the surface, so she could do something about it. She knew that it might not be pleasant, but consoled herself that it would be necessary to exorcise whatever demon was lurking within her subconscious. Exorcising and exercising were the orders of the day, she mused.

“Morning! Sleep well?” Felix stood in the kitchen, looking fresh as a daisy and admiring the view into the garden. Joe, on the other hand, felt like fifty shades of shit.

Joe laughed. “Hungover like an absolute bitch! But apart from that OK thanks. Yourself?”

“Pretty much the same. Listen. About what I said last night...”

“I know. You were out of your tree. So was I. It was a good one, though. Subliminal advertising: never heard that one before.”

“No. It’s true.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Felix could keep this up for hours if he wanted to, but so could Joe.

“I want you to remember every word. And I can prove it.”

The smile disappeared from Joe’s face. “You know Felix, I’m beginning to worry about you.”

“No it’s true. I’ve got to go now, but your neighbour, Jane...”

“Jane? How do you know about her?”

Felix gestured to the window. This time Joe noticed that he was watching Jane, exercising in the back garden in a thong bikini and oblivious of her audience from next door. “I do my research. I know that she’s single, that you’ve got a bit of an eye for her, and that she goes for a run every morning before work at the hospital.” In her garden, Jane bent over to pick something up, unwittingly giving the two men an eyeful of her beautifully round behind. “I can see why you like her! Does she normally exercise almost naked in the garden, or is that a new thing?”

“A new… Now wait a fucking minute!”

“She is rather nice it has to be said. Keep an eye on her. She may be doing a few things you find interesting. Think of it as part proof, and part incentive.” Felix handed Joe a card. “When she does, and when you’re interested, give me a call on this number.”

Joe stared at Felix in stunned silence.

“And at this point I’ll be going. Remember what I said though. Keep an eye on Jane.”